Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hair? Flat. Scars? Ominous. Knuckles? Still popping with an unnerving crack.

Shepard let out a heavy sigh, abyss in her reflection’s eyes staring back into her. She knew there was no point in restyling her hair or smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles on her shirt but the urge to check one more time, just one more time, just one more, but for the really, really last time was overwhelming. Even though she knew her looks were not the problem. The problem was simply her.

She propped her arms on both sides of the sink, glaring into the mirror with that look. Famous Commander Shepard look. The one that made her first human Spectre. The one that convinced Saren Arterius to let it all go. The one that was used in so many Citadel ads.

“You are brave,” she didn’t say out loud, of course. But she did think it with that tone. The one that scared Admiral Han’Garrel into not firing at the vulnerable geth fleet. “You are strong. You. Are. Ready.”

The void in her reflection’s eyes was her only answer. And sweat coming back to her hands. And loose strands of hair she had to fix just one more time. And wrinkles on her shirt that demanded just one last check. And knuckles of her hands that just had to be nervously popped – but this time for the really, really last time.

“Okay,” she announced when she finally left the bathroom, her freshly washed palm back to sweaty as soon as it touched the access panel. “Let’s move out.”

Garrus raised his head, datapad in one hand, coffee in the other and no care in the world all around.

“We have 36 minutes left,” he noted. “Not even my father is that crazy.”

And then he just returned to reading.

Shepard couldn’t comprehend that level of calm. And the radio playing joyfully somewhere in the background. And the sunshine flooding Thracia Suite peacefully from all the giant windows. Didn’t they all know what a terrifying day it was?

Shepard had no choice – she had to pace back and forth around the kitchen, doing the worrying for the two of them, the radio speakers and even the Trebia star itself.

“This waiting is going to kill me.”

“Then stop waiting and start relaxing. Here’s levo coffee, donuts and” Garrus placed his datapad next to the plate “my plan. Every stage of today’s event narrowed down to the most minute details.”

Shepard stopped dead in her tracks.

“Uh-huh,” she said with no attempt to hide cruel satisfaction. “So all this cool of yours is just a façade?”

“There’s no façade,” he bit back, so very sure of himself. “No need for one when you’ve got a plan like that.”

He didn’t say anything more. But his eyes were just begging for Shepard to ask him for a rundown.

“Okay,” she sighed mercifully, pouring levo coffee into her ‘GALAXY’S BEST BOSS’ mug. “So what’s the plan?”

There was more than a plan. There was a holo of Tiberius Hotel springing from his omni-tool.

“First,” Garrus highlighted underground section of the building. “the cinema. They’re playing some old human classic today. There’s a high probability dad’s seen it during his time on the Citadel so he will go on and on about his old C-Sec adventures. If not – that’s your place to shine, giving all the necessary cultural context. So, you know – perfect bonding opportunity.”

Shepard shivered at mere thought of a perfect bonding opportunity with a man that all she knew about was “He wouldn’t like you, Commander. No offence.” Then she shivered at the thought of even caring about someone’s dislike like that. How in the world did she find herself in that situation?

“Then, the gallery,” the only person in the galaxy able make her care about his parents’ approval zoomed in on the part of the hotel that connected with Historical Art Gallery’s gardens. “This is dad’s territory. For you, it’s a breather – you get to nod along, smile politely and ask tricky questions. Dad loooves tricky questions, especially if he knows the answers. And when it comes to historical art, he just can’t be beat. You remember the layout, right?”

“Yes, Garrus, I remember the layout,” she scoffed. Thanks to Palaven’s extremely friendly environment, these gardens were the only way to experience fresh air on her face without getting radiation sickness. “Everything is clear except for one thing – where’s Solana during all of this?”

“Right beside me, Shepard, taking dad’s attention off you any time something has a slither of a chance to go wrong. But it won’t. Anyway, take the gallery as an opportunity to relax because then” he tapped the holo of the restaurant floor “the dinner. At this point we’ll be so exhausted, everything will taste like heaven and when we run out of topics to talk about, we’ll just get busy eating. So, as you can see, this is tense-small-talk-and-awkward-silence-proof plan. Nothing to worry about.”

He took a prideful sip of his coffee, his smirk flowing down his face as soon as he saw defeatist look in Shepard’s eyes.

“And the escape route?” she asked.

He dared to raise his browplate at her as if he didn’t skip over the crucial part of every plan.

“Escape route? Isn’t that a little dramatic?”

“Dramatic? Garrus, you downloaded the building’s blueprints to plan a day out with your family.”

“I like having a plan.”

“And I like having escape route.”

“Shepard,” he said with the same voice he sometimes used to call her ‘honey’.

Shepard was way too old to react like that – yet she felt herself blush at that soft, sweet, stupid tone inflection.

“The only way to lose this battle is to escape. As long as you’re the last one standing, it’s a win.”

Okay, where was this metaphor going, exactly?

“I’m not going to duel with your father, right?”

Garrus raised his mug with a chuckle.

“Here’s hoping!”

“Your plan doesn’t help me in the slightest,” Shepard groaned, her palms embracing scorching hot mug. “It doesn’t even start with the assumption that your father will hate me.”

“He won’t-”

“The first thing you ever told me about him was, and I quote-”

“Well, yeah, but that was… before.”

Shepard frowned. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to clarify or preferred to let it rest.

“Before what?” she dared.

He minced his words for a moment.

“Before… slight change in our dynamic.”

Shepard laughed with a stupid relieved laughter. It was obvious this is what he meant. Why would he mention this cursed chapter of galaxy’s history right now? Why did she even think of that?

Still. She was relieved.

“Yeah, Garrus,” she said. “Because parents just looove it when their children sleep with people they disliked in the first place.”

“He doesn’t need to know about the sleeping part.”

She laughed again, almost forgetting what worried her so much. And then she remembered and let out another heavy sigh, planting both palms on the kitchen island as if stretching her arms out could somehow make this whole battle easier.

“Shepard, it won’t be half as bad as you imagine,” Garrus said softly as he took the opportunity to cover her hand with his.

It’s been more than a year, yet Shepard’s heart still pounded in her chest just as hard as it did back then, when he did the same thing on this not-so-distant grim battlefield slowly turning into cemetery.

“Solana is going to like you, I’m sure of it," he kept talking. "And, you know, I’m pretty fond of you, too. So whatever dad’s attitude, he will be outnumbered. And there’s a chance he will join the crowd. Because of, you know. This whole galaxy-saving business. It can go a long way with turian in-laws.”

As much as Shepard dreaded thinking about anything ‘galaxy-saving’ related, turian ‘in-laws’ were not at the top of her favourite topics' list, either.

“Stop saying that word,” she ordered, knowing the blush on her face was not helping her get the commanding tone across.

“Right, sorry,” he smiled, his gaze fixed on her face mercilessly. “I always forget I haven’t even proposed to you yet.”

She hated his visor and how much fun it had to be to see the spike in her heart-rate. Her tone could be full of bravado, her face could turn into a smug mask, but the blood pressure gave her out every single time.

“You’re going to lead me on like that forever or actually put the money where your mouth is, Vakarian?”

“I’m working on it. Checking out some vids. The ones Joker sent me are awfully lacking in marriage department.”

‘Marriage’ just made her heart straight up jump. And her hand clench on his out of some weird, primal instinct.

Garrus laughed with amused satisfaction, squeezing her hand back. Then he raised from his chair, leaning in close to Shepard’s face while she was standing stubbornly still, not intending to make it any easier. And when he was finally about to brush her lips, when her eyelids closed in anticipation – that’s when the intercom started playing its annoying tune.

It was Shepard’s turn to smile with amused satisfaction as she let go of Garrus’ hand and walked up to the door. She picked up the phone and turned around to observe as he settled back with a sigh.

“Yes, hello? Allegedly future Mrs. Vakarian here.”

His head snapped at attention and he sent her a smile that made her wish she had heart-rate fluctuation monitor of her own.

“Good morning, Mrs. Vakarian,” the receptionist said and Shepard laughed nervously now, ready to explain it was just a joke to the stranger who really couldn’t care less. “Mr. Vakarian is waiting for you in the lobby.”

It was stupid. On some level Shepard knew how stupid it was – but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t decide, she didn’t think, she didn’t remember, but she had vague half-conscious awareness of her focus momentarily becoming combat-level sharp, muscles all around her body tensing and her biotic implants letting her know that while a bit rusty, they were always inside her, just waiting for a call to action.

“Then who’s the man sitting in my kitchen?”

She didn’t even take her eyes off the man as he gave her puzzled look.

“Emmm… If I were to venture a guess, I would say his… son?”

There was a voice next to the receptionist, saying something Shepard didn’t catch.

“Oh, I guessed correctly, I have a confirmation,” the receptionist let out a perfect bureaucratic giggle. “Mr. Vakarian is in the lobby waiting for his son and-”

Shepard almost smashed the phone into its hooks.

“He’s here!”

Garrus almost jumped off his chair.

“My dad?”

“Waiting in the lobby!”

“Already?!” he pulled up his omni-tool only to learn they theoretically still had 26 minutes left. “Well. Apparently he did get crazier since the last time I saw him.”

Shepard barely heard him, rushing into the bathroom to check wrinkles on her shirt for the really, really, really last time.

Chapter Text

It would be a lie if Shepard said she didn’t revel in that feeling of cruel satisfaction as she watched Garrus fumble with the buttons of his shirt on the elevator ride to the lobby. All his cool evaporated the moment it was time to face his father and now he was looking into the mirror with this intense glare that was way too familiar.

“Giving yourself a pep talk?”

He looked at her reflection, startled, as if he forgot she was there. Damn, he must have been really going at it in his mind - but immediately, the façade was back on.

“No. Just checking if the scars are bringing out my eyes.”

Shepard chuckled quietly.

“They do define your cheekbones very nicely. Heard this is the look this Winter.”

“You think?”

“Mhm.”

When he shifted his gaze from Shepard’s reflection to Shepard in the flesh, she instantly forgot why they were even leaving their luxurious Thracia Suite. What could possibly be more important than them being close to each other, as close as it was physically possible, alone, right now?

But before they managed to close the distance, the door swooshed open and they were not alone anymore.

The lobby was crowded, the coffeehouse in the middle bristling with tourists enjoying their last drinks before putting helmets of anti-radiation enviro-suits on. In her mind, Shepard once again thanked Macen Tiberius for coming up with extremely profitable idea of small ‘cities inside the cities’ – big hotel complexes protected from deadly rays of Palaven’s sun by the dome of anti-radiation shielding that allowed alien tourists not to feel terrible at least in some areas of the planet. Shepard really enjoyed the city life of Cipritine and variety of nature surrounding it, but she just hated the enviro-suits. She was used to shooting, rolling around and jumping through obstacles while wearing heavy armor. Not maneuvering through festival crowds, walking through the shopping malls or downing shots through induction port.

However, despite all the comforts Tiberius Hotel provided, Shepard would get into her enviro-suit in the blink of an eye if it could only take her far away from this place and the man standing up from his seat in the lobby, striding right towards her.

“That’s him,” Garrus whispered, nudging her gently to go and face the music.

Even without this astute observation, Shepard knew it was him. Castis and Garrus were awfully similar, the former simply older and sporting different pattern of face markings, still staying with the same shade of blue. However, when it came to his… aura…

There was nothing similar about it.

Before he got up, he regarded his surroundings with something like calm hostility. When he did get up, his steps were long and flowy, his hands tangled behind his back. With that, he reminded Shepard of Primarch Victus which was a good sign. She never had any problems getting along with Victus, after all.

But the look Castis gave Shepard when he was finally up close, was nothing like any of the looks Victus has ever given her. Even when she told him his son died on her watch.

Castis’ glare took only fraction of a second, yet was enough for Shepard’s blood to turn into ice.

“Good morning,” Castis said, his voice like Garrus’ voice from another dimension in which Garrus was cold and terrifying. “You’re almost late.”

“Good one, dad,” Garrus noted, shaking his father’s hand with no shadow of terror. “You couldn’t wait to see us?”

“Well, it’s not like my son craves my company every day,” he said with no shadow humor. “And not every day do I get to meet illustrious Commander Shepard.”

Shepard knew she should say something right about now - but then Castis looked at her again. Right about now seemed like a perfect time to turn around and run.

“Ah, yes,” Garrus said. “So. This is Shepard. A-Alexandra Shepard.”

Shepard actually snapped out of the shackles of her fight-flight-or-freeze instinct to raise eyebrow at Garrus’ stutter. Did he just forget her name?

But then she realised she should probably be looking at Castis.

“I-I am,” she stuttered herself, meeting his steel-cold gaze. “Alexandra Shepard. Just Shepard will suffice.”

“Commander,” he chose to call her and as much as the word stung, at least he shook her extended hand. “I hope Garrus made the effort of telling you who I am?”

“Of course,” Shepard went for a friendly smile that was not returned. “He told me a great deal about you.”

“A great deal? Too bad. He had to run out of good things eventually.”

Shepard was on it before Garrus could mount a defence.

“Actually, he never did. And I heard great things about you from other people, too. You made quite a name for yourself back in C-Sec, sir.”

“Ah, don’t flatter me. What’s my name compared to great Spectre Commander Shepard?”

She hated hearing her rank and her title and somehow she had an inkling he knew that. Now she felt like regarding him with calm hostility. This intimidating figure revealing his ploys to get under her skin. To destroy her. Defeat her.

…Or no such conspiracy was taking place and she was actually just paranoid while he was nothing but over-respectful.

“Ah,” Shepard said, trying to remember Castis was not actual enemy on actual battlefield, but merely her boyfriend's father in the hotel lobby. “I was just in the right place at the right time. But your C-Sec record, sir, is spectacular. I’ve read about this one case, the big fire of Tayseri-”

“The last time I checked, this case was classified.”

Now his calm hostility wasn’t directed at his surroundings. It was directed at her.

“Oh, it still is,” Shepard hurried to explain. “I just… happened to have a clearance to take a brief look at that.”

“Ah, yes. Famous Spectre privilege. All the power in the world used solely to protect the galaxy. Never to amuse oneself.”

“Dad.”

It was one simple word but Shepard knew when Garrus was giving a warning. And she knew she stepped right onto that ‘Spectre privilege’ mine.

Castis bowed his head gently.

“I feel honored to have such a thorough background check done. When it comes to you, Commander, I’m unhappy to report I had to rely just on the newsvids.”

“Well, I’m unhappy to report they constantly give me too much credit.”

“Credit? Hell, I apparently can’t keep up with all the pieces coming out about you. But I was practically glued to the vidcreen during your six months on Earth.”

He cracked the first smile after that.

Shepard just stared. No smile, fake or otherwise, staying on her face. Not even an angry frown. Not even shock. Castis knew why she destroyed Alpha Relay, he had friends in the Alliance who could fill him in on the case and Garrus had explained it to him long before Shepard was officially pardoned. And yet he brought it up.

Shepard realised she was at war with this individual. She was at war with alternate dimension senior Garrus with different markings and rougher voice. She was at war with C-Sec legend. She was at war with an asshole committed to… to do what, exactly? Make her lose it? Make his adult son break up with her? What possible goal could be in his power to achieve and what did Shepard have to do to win?

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Garrus crossed arms on his chest, his voice something much sharper than a warning. “Where’s Solana?”

That wiped the smirk off Castis’ face, quickly replacing it with annoyance.

“If I only knew. She’s in one of her moods now.”

“Meaning?”

“Pardon him Commander,” Castis said to Shepard, again with a gentle bow. “Not feeling like airing out our family’s dirty laundry in front of you.”

“That’s okay,” Shepard managed through gritted teeth, catching how damn swiftly he excluded her from that family. “I’ve heard Solana and Garrus have a lot to put up with.”

Garrus shot Shepard a glance that felt like under-the-table kind of a scolding kick. Shepard scolded herself in her thoughts too, just before patting herself on the back for getting Castis’ mandibles to move a little bit, making him lose some of that damn smug look. His composure, however, returned to its place terrifyingly quickly.

“Since I am here so early, what would you say about getting some coffee?”

“We’ve just-”

“Yes,” Shepard cut Garrus off immediately. “We would love to get some coffee.”

Castis approached the cashier first and not being an object of his constant suspicious scanning was a greater relief than Shepard anticipated. She had no courage to say anything to Garrus behind his father’s back, even as he reassuringly squeezed her fingers under the counter. She sent him a bitter smile though, and wanted to add a shrug in that I-told-you-so manner – but that was the moment Castis heard the price for his coffee.

“HOW MUCH?!”

The whole coffeehouse was startled to attention as poor asari cashier – who Shepard and Garrus got to know well enough to receive free cookies with their orders – blinked, taken aback.

“Fifty three and-”

“I heard all that!” Castis roared. “I just can’t believe it!”

“I’m sorry, sir. I can provide a cup in smaller size if the price is not up to your standards.”

“What?! Not up to my standards?! Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?!”

“Damn it, dad, it’s my treat,” Garrus put his credt chit on the counter as quickly as if his life depended on it. “Just take your coffee and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You can’t think this price is reasonable!”

“I don’t think! I pay the price, take my order and shut my mouth!” he turned to the cashier with apologetic smile, almost pushing Castis away from the counter. “I’m sorry for him, Lira. His day is wasted if no one has a reason to piss in his coffee.”

That got a laugh out of Lira, her co-workers and even some of the coffeehouse clients. Castis’ mandibles spread wide in indignation as his mouth opened, ready to say something.

But then he said nothing. He just turned around and stormed off to one of the free tables, putting his coffee down with a loud THUD. Garrus, on the other hand, turned to Shepard with expression she could best compare to human eyeroll.

“He’s not always like that, I swear,” he said to her as Lira took care of their orders. “Solana got him angry and now he has to make everyone’s life a living hell.”

“Ahhh,” Shepard let out a theatrical sigh. “It seems your genius plan didn’t take his hatred for me into consideration. Do you think I’ll ever get bored of being right?”

She meant it as a joke but Garrus did look genuinely bummed out.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect… I hoped for the mission perimeters to be different."

He thought for a moment, tapping the edge of his chit against the counter.

"But you know what? You can go do something less miserable while I'll stay to make sure the rest of his day is nothing but miserable.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Shepard hurried with an explanation. “I was ready for it to be like that."

He didn't look too cheered up.

"Besides," Shepard kept on talking with almost desperate light note in her voice "we planned no escape routes. I can't leave you all alone even if I wanted to. And I don't want to let him be the last one standing.”

That finally got Garrus to smile softly as their drinks were ready and it was time to get back into the fight.

Shepard couldn’t help but feel pretty good about this whole overpriced coffee ordeal, anyway. It turned out Castis’ controlled façade was actually extremely easy to tear down. It also turned out an ally like Garrus was an invaluable asset on this battlefield. His plan was maybe not the best but he could improvise, had experience with the enemy and his heart was in the fight. He was also smart, nice and funny. And handsome, too.

“You’re in one of your moods, too, dad?” he asked innocently as they sat down in front of Castis.

“For that price, this coffee should make me at least a biotic,” Castis barked back. “And it doesn’t even taste good. We should go to Aventen Plaza, they have the best coffee in reasonable prices.”

“But they don’t have anti-radiation shielding.”

Castis looked at Shepard as if her lack of protective metallic scales was her own damn fault.

“Ah. That.”

He said nothing more. Just took a sip of his coffee. Shepard did, too.

“So when will Solana join us?” Garrus pushed.

“I don’t know,” Castis replied. “She doesn’t tell me where she goes. Even when she slams the door in the middle of the night.”

“What does that mean?”

“That she slammed the door in the middle of the night.”

Garrus leaned his elbows on the table, switching to the bad cop mode.

“You had a fight. Before family dinner. I told you not to have a fight, I specifically requested it.”

“She started it!”

“I don’t care who started it, you’re going to call her and apologise!”

“Why me?!”

Garrus took a second to actually process.

“Right. She probably won’t pick up if she sees it’s from you.”

And to Shepard’s horror, he stood up.

“I’m going to call her and when she’s here, you’re going to put it behind you, no excuses,” he turned to Shepard now. “You’re coming with me? It will only be a minute, I swear.”

Shepard was about to get up, eager not to be left alone at Castis’ mercy – but then she saw his eyes studying her intently. He was clearly assessing her level of fear. Which was pretty high – but not high enough to give him the satisfaction.

“I’ll just stay here, then,” she said, coffee back in her hand. “Don’t worry. Go call Solana.”

He smiled to her in admiration and made a… movement. Like he wanted to put reassuring hand on her arm. He resigned at the last second, though, probably feeling weight of Castis’ gaze as intensely as Shepard did.

“Okay. Be literally right back.”

And as he left, there was tense awkward silence. Castis sipped quietly, not even observing her, but the buzzing hotel lobby with giant sculpture planted in the middle. ‘Spirit of Community’, the plaque under it claimed, but no matter from what angle Shepard tried, she had no idea which part of it was supposed to represent what. There was no way she was going to figure it out now, staring at her knees and trying to break out of the awkward silence.

“So what about that coffee?” she bit. “Still no biotic effect?”

“No,” was the deadpan answer.

Then it was back to silence, this time not only tense and awkward but straight up making Shepard wish evolution spared humanity from ever developing ability to speak.

But just as she decided to take the vow of silence, Castis proved to have a heart by elaborating:

“It’s just astronomically overpriced coffee. I wonder what it says about the rooms here.”

“They’re very good, actually,” Shepard said, happy to have at least some expertise in the field. “Not like there was much choice in the matter, though. Tiberius is the only hotel with anti-radiation shields they managed to rebuild so far.”

He finally was somewhat invested in the conversation.

“I knew Palaven trip is inconvenient for aliens but I never realized how expensive. How are you paying for all of this? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Early retirement, sir,” she smiled bitterly. “And don’t worry, we have a pretty major discount.”

Castis’ cup stopped halfway to his mouth.

“You got a discount?”

“Yeah, we-”

“For doing your duty? And you accepted?”

Shepard really should have committed to that vow.

Thankfully, Garrus was back in the chair next to her.

“Okay, Sol’s going to be here as soon as possible but won’t make it before the vid. What did I miss?”

“How big is your discount for that place?” Castis asked with murder in his eyes.

Garrus looked at him, confused.

“What discount?”

“The one you got for doing your job.”

It did not clear up any confusion.

“There’s no discount.”

Castis shifted his murderous gaze to Shepard.

“Did you lie to my face, Commander?”

“What? No, I-”

“I’m getting old,” he sighed. Not without theatrical oomph. “Used to spot a liar by the change in their breathing pattern. One of very rare things universal for both turians and humans.”

It’s been a long time since Shepard felt this kind of anger. She placed her hands on the table with a firm thud.

“I’m not a liar, sir.”

“Are you saying Garrus is a liar, then?”

“He did tell me you were funny and fair, so.”

“What are you even talking ab-” Garrus tried to cut in.

“So you are actually calling my son a liar to my face? Brilliant tactic to get me on your side.”

“Why are you not on my side in the first place, sir? Why are you so against me?”

“What is happen-”

“I’m sorry, Commander, didn’t know there were any sides. I thought we had a nice day out.”

“But you just said-!”

“As much as we can be out in this claustrophobic anti-radiation bubble.”

“Hey, I think we should-”

Shepard’s attention finally turned to Garrus.

“Do we have a discount on this hotel or not?” she snapped.

He took a moment to comprehend the question.

“We don’t.”

That was not the answer she expected. Now their entire alliance was hanging on a very thin thread.

“But the owner himself told us-”

“Yeah, but we refused. We’re going to pay full price.”

“…I thought we were bluffing”

“What?” he chuckled, taken aback. “It would be… Accepting a discount for doing your job doesn’t fly on Palaven.”

“From my time on the Citadel I’d say it doesn’t fly among honorable people as a rule,” Castis downed last drops of his coffee like it was the most delicious drink he ever had. “Regardless of the species. But then again, Spectres are beyond all rules.”

Now Shepard’s fists made quite a spectacular THUD.

“Vakarian, sir, you were honorably whining about coffee being too expensive for the past ten minutes!”

“As is my right, Commander! But I would never accept a damn discount for doing my duty. It’s like stealing when you think about it.”

“Like stealing?! You shouted at the poor girl over a coffee you got on your son’s dime!”

“On my son’s dime?! How dare you even-”

“Shepard, dad,” This time Garrus added raised hand to his warning tone. “Not a word more. This day will not be ruined because of coffee, no matter how expensive. Let’s go catch that vid, it’ll give you time to cool off and we will start again, off the right foot this time. Deal?”

Shepard was far from interested in any deals. This man hated her and she was more than happy to hate him in turn.

…Except she wasn’t. She didn’t want to hate Castis and didn’t want him to hate her. She cared about Garrus too much not to care about his family.

She crossed arms on her chest, still unable to wipe angry frown off her face, but hoping it would die down in a minute.

She got way too angry at such insignificant stuff. And ‘hate’ was such a strong word.

“What vid are we watching?” Castis was already back to calm and unbothered.

 Oh, she hated him.

“200 years old human classic, they advertise,” Garrus answered. “Something about the woods.”

It was ‘Forrest Gump’. The moment Shepard saw the feather, the bench and Tom Hanks, she just sank into the soft chair, praying for the hotel to collapse and bury her under the rubble.

It’s not that she didn’t like the vid, even though the whole Vietnam War section made her want to curl up into a ball. But it was very not up to traditional turian standards and now she was watching every scene through Castis Vakarian’s hateful eyes

Has he ever seen it during his time on the Citadel? What would he think about such depictions of war, military and soldier’s honor? Will he have a stereotypical turian view or on the contrary? What will he think of humans now? And, more importantly, of her? Will he view her as Forrest Gump’s foil? Damn it, she should have checked cinema’s repertoire earlier!

She had no idea how to start off the right foot after all this. She wanted to or she really tried to want to, if only for Garrus’ sake. But with the vid, his brilliant plan did not help her in the slightest. As Forrest forgot about his big speech to reunite with Jenny in the middle of the Central Park, displaying affection publicly not only to the hippies gathered in the park, but also to the scandalized turian audience in front of the screen, Shepard leaned a little bit forward and peeked to the side, trying to figure out Castis’ opinion. That would, naturally, determine her own.

But he, just as Garrus, simply stared into the screen with his eyes wide open, barely even blinking. Was it offense or fascination? From this angle Shepard had literally no idea.

It was such a relief when the vid finally ended, Shepard was the first one out of her seat. Garrus and Castis hurried after her to join the column pouring out of the cinema.

“So,” Shepard said when they were finally out. “What do you think?”

Castis did not even attempt to voice an opinion. Garrus thought carefully about every word he was intending to use.

“It was… Thank the Spirits, Solana is here!”

Indeed, there was a girl waving at them from the lobby’s armchair. She got up from it with some difficulty – the braces keeping her right leg together made her every step stiff and heavy.

Shepard heard Solana’s leg was not healing properly, but she did not expect this many cybernetics, metal plates and screws running from Solana’s ankle, through the whole length of her leg, up to her thigh. In her time, Shepard hauled soldiers with their bones sticking out of their limbs to the infirmary, only for them to report back for duty a week later. Shepard herself… well, died and was brought back in a matter of two years. Some time later, she had to have her crushed arm amputated but they just cloned it back on. The process was painful, weird, uncomfortable and not something she would really like to think about right now, but at least she had priority treatment. Now her ‘first’ right arm was just a murky memory from the life before.

Solana, however, had cosmic kind of bad luck when it came to the life before. Her leg broke in the middle of a war zone on a scale no one has ever anticipated. When the squad of krogan soldiers evacuated her and Castis off Palaven, their medical equipment and supplies were scarce. They had to save them for the people who could be thrown back into the fight and Solana, while a soldier like any other turian, was copyright law student. She was never interested in reaching super-soldier rank and they needed super-soldiers for this war. In short, she was not a priority. And even if familial connections could get her better treatment, Shepard guessed her and Castis would be too proud to accept it.

It didn’t matter in the end – krogan squad with evacuated turians on board had to go dark for long, long weeks, trying to sneak into the mass relay through enemy lines. Solana spent all this time basically unable to move, with medi-gel and painkillers running dangerously short.

Cosmic kind of bad luck.

By the time her open fracture was properly treated, the damage was so widespread, even cybernetic implants could not fully heal it. Rehabilitation also turned out to be a bitch. There was a chance Solana would be able to walk without braces one day – but the limp was going to stay. Shepard heard her talking about it with Garrus on a vidcall once. She was joking about it, calling it a souvenir. But now, when she walked up to meet them, she did look pretty miserable.

And she didn’t smell much better.

“Hi,” she smiled, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“Hi yourself. Sol, this is Shepard and, Shepard, this is my…”

Garrus looked at Solana properly now, her smile a little absent and her eyes blinking slowly.

“…drunk sister.”

“I’m not drunk,” she protested, immediately offended. “I slept at Kendra’s, we had a few drinks yesterday and they were a little stronger than I thought. Anyway – nice to meet you in person, Shepard. Hope you’re not having the worst day of your life so far.”

Solana’s look was pointed in certain someone’s direction and Shepard chuckled as she shook her head. They said ‘hi’ to each other through Garrus’ vidcalls a few times before but she saw Solana in full for the first time. She was surprised to find out she was about the same height as Shepard, maybe even a little bit shorter, making her stand out among most of the turians proudly towering over average humans. The resemblance to her family was undeniable though, with her smiles just as spare as Castis’ and her eyes just as piercing as Garrus’.

“It was alright,” Shepard said. “Be glad you missed the vid.”

“And coffee,” Castis added from behind Shepard’s back.

“Heard it was a shitshow,” Solana said, not even looking in her father's direction. “Sorry about showing up late but now I’m at your full disposal.”

“Are you?” Garrus said, his voice heavy with disappointment.

“Want me to go home and sleep through the hangover? I can do that, I don’t care.”

Her response was sharp, quiet and annoyed. But then it seemed like she suddenly remembered Shepard was standing right in front of her.

“I mean, I do care about our guest here, so let’s not bore Shepard with this passive aggression. Let’s hit the gallery!”

Chapter Text

“Wow. It is bright in here.”

It was bright, hot and beautiful. The air was filled with sweet smell of flowers and fruits hanging from the tree branches and bushes growing around – and sometimes on – the sculptures, paintings, murals and benches. No matter how many times Shepard walked through these gardens, they always put her in some kind of an exalted state. Like, she not only knew, she felt this was art, the great art, the true art and all this other stuff that art is. Thanks to Garrus’ teachings she had some general knowledge about the trends in turian artistic history but honestly, even without his much appreciated commentary, she would just love this place. Everything felt so grand, important and alive here.

But before they even started proper tour, Solana fell heavily on one of the benches hidden in the shadow, her tired eyes having difficulty adjusting to the light. Shepard smiled to herself, turning her back to the poor girl, pretending to be extremely interested in one of the red-leaved bushes she saw a billion times before, right next to Castis studying impressive construction made out of traditional turian spears. Apparently, they both decided to spare Solana from torture of having to keep up the conversation.

Ahhh, to be young, stupid and hangover once again!

But Garrus approached Solana with much less understanding attitude.

“Problem?”

“Fuck off,” was Solana’s answer

“Aaand that will be five credits to my account.”

“I’ll make it ten if you let me get out of here.”

Shepard froze. Castis tensed. He heard that one, too.

“It’s not like that, I want to be here,” By the way Solana’s voice dropped to panicked whisper, Shepard guessed Garrus’ face had to express the same dread she felt. “I’m just much more hangover than I thought, Garrus. It smells like cheap perfumery in here.”

"Just try not thinking about it and-”

Solana stood up. Rapidly.

“Oh," Garrus jumped away from her instinctively. "You’re kidding me, right?”

“I’m sorry but I-”

Solana's hand covered her mouth.

And then she ran back into the lobby, clank of the braces making it as far from discreet as possible.

Garrus immediately rushed behind her, only with his hand on the access panel realizing what he was about to do.

He turned to Shepard and Castis, their eyes shining with silent plea for Garrus not to make the mistake of leaving them alone once again.

“Go on ahead,” he said quickly. “We’ll be right back. I swear.”

And then he just made the mistake of leaving them alone once again.

And just like that, Shepard was on her own.

Actually, she would kill to be on her own right now. Instead, she was with him.

“So,” Castis said when the same thought probably stopped dawning on him. “Shall we?”

Okay. At least they were on speaking terms.

“I guess we shall.”

But there was not much speaking after that. Castis walked at leisurely pace, stopping only by some of the exhibits and not doing much to boast about his knowledge. Shepard desperately tried to find something, anything she could ask about, just as Garrus’ original plan advised.

“'War on Teatrus’,” she read from the plaque hanging below messy sculpture made out of paper and wires. “It was pretty rough.”

Castis didn’t say anything. He just walked right up to another work of art, this time the painting transparent enough for Shepard not to have to look at the title.

“‘Crash of Kara’. Brutal.”

Again, Castis just moved on to another painting. Now Shepard tried to start a conversation out of pure spite.

“I heard it-”

“There!” Castis suddenly exclaimed. “This is the one I wanted to show you.”

The painting was so small, it was almost hidden by petals of giant cinnamon-smelling flower, its contents just tangles of chaotic, colorful lines on the black background. To decipher this one, Shepard had to wipe the plaque off the sticky pollen.

“‘Admiral Mehrkuri, 1982 CE’. Self-portrait?”

It was kind of a joke since Shepard knew turian artists traditionally stayed anonymous, creating not for fame and splendor but glory of the art itself. Castis, of course, didn’t appreciate her attempt.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he scoffed. “Have you ever heard about Admiral Mehrkuri, Commander?”

“You have me at a disadvantage here, sir.”

“When he got the message that Krogan Rebellions ended, he announced his immediate retirement. He didn’t ask anyone for permission or advice. He let his crew go back home, took lonely ship into unmapped territory of the Skyllian Verge and disappeared. His ship was found centuries later, in 1981, abandoned on some backwater planet with no signs of emergency landing. Admiral Mehrkuri, however, was nowhere to be found.”

Ah. Veteran soldier going on retirement and taking a pleasure cruise through space, doing his best to vanish off the face of the galaxy. Right.

Shepard looked back at the painting, gnashing her teeth. It did not remind her of any concrete shape, surely not turian. Surely not human. Surely not her. These were just some stupid colorful scratches.

“What do you think?” Castis asked.

Oh, now he was curious about her opinion.

“What do you want me to think, sir?”

For the first time, Castis chuckled at something she said. She was not particularly happy about it.

“I see Garrus doesn’t like you for your artistic sensibilities.”

“I’m more of a music person.”

“Music. Of course.”

There was a jab hidden in his tone. But the acknowledgment of Garrus liking her was at least some step in the right direction. Maybe they were starting off the right foot after all.

“It unnerves you,” he sat on the bench. “This painting.”

“Well, it is mysterious,” she leaned against one of the trees.

“You really think so?”

“Yes. I really think it is mysterious.”

He knew he stabbed some spot hidden deep inside her and was far too happy to twist the knife.

“It’s chaos. Disarray. Life out of order. Life out of place.”

“And I suppose that’s bad?”

“You tell me. Is it bad?”

Shepard hoped the glare she gave him was at least half as murderous as the glares he tossed her way all day.

“It’s not bad at all. My life right now is actually the least chaotic it has ever been.”

“Really? So where is your life heading?”

“Forward.”

“Is it? Holidays on Tuchanka, Palaven, what’s next? Thessia, right? Seems like you are moving a lot but your life is not moving at all.”

“And what, if I returned to service, it would suddenly be all good? There would suddenly be order? Respectfully, sir, you have no idea what I went through when my life was heading in a clear direction. I deserve all the vague purposes, retirements, holidays and discounts in the world.”

There, she thought to herself. If she says it out loud, if she says it specifically to him, she will finally believe it.

It had much better effect on Castis than on her. His browplate rose and his mandibles moved, more in taken aback than disapproving way.

“There are many ways to serve. Running and gunning is not the only purpose of life, Commander.”

“I’m not a commander anymore. I’m tired of serving – running and gunning or otherwise. I want to do nothing for the rest of my life. And be happy about it.”

If he was taken aback before, now he was simply stunned. Shepard couldn’t hold his gaze any longer. She couldn’t do this conversation any longer.

Thankfully, Castis got up from the bench, wiping pollen off his clothes.

“Let’s find my kids and be done with this dinner. Shall we?”

Finally, they were on the same page.

“Yes. We shall.”

Chapter Text

When they found 'the kids', they were leaving hotel’s infirmary, Garrus clearly pleased with himself to be the one more responsible this time and Solana back on her feet, apologizing profusely. After getting some pick-me-up, she moved and talked much faster, close to the version Shepard got to know while overhearing Garrus’ vidcalls. Garrus himself was overjoyed to hear both Shepard and Castis saying the gallery tour was fine. Apparently, despite their differences, they shared a goal of not ending this day with Garrus completely defeated.

The restaurant floor was high up in the building, its giant glass windows replaced with screens. Instead of sun setting over Cipritine’s skyline, they got to admire fractals fluctuating in complicated patters, casting colorful shadows over elegant tables. There was also bar and further in, small stage where krogan singer was preparing to add charm to their extremely expensive meals.

It was just… so much. Shepard usually enjoyed mingling with the rich and the pretentious, always feeling out of place but… in a good way. Now there was something uncomfortable about it. Suffocating.

“Krogan,” Castis muttered to himself, taking his eyes off the singer beginning his performance.

“Yep,” Solana confirmed. “Singing krogan.”

The krogan, indeed, began to sing. He held the tune alright, jazz-like arrangement of his band was really cool and his voice was deep and powerful. Unfortunately, he picked such sad nostalgic songs, it was impossible not to find him a little funny.

And Castis and Solana did just that. They simply exchanged looks and burst into laughter, hiding behind datapads displaying restaurant’s menu. Garrus managed not to laugh out loud - but he was smiling, too.

Shepard looked at each of them, so similar to each other, so different, suddenly sharing a laugh over the same thing. Without speaking to each other, without resolving any issues they had before. Suddenly they were just… together. Like a family.

Shepard barely understood it. But she never had a family.

The waiter with two bottles of wine couldn’t have a better timing.

“Five stars by levo and dextro standards,” Castis noted innocently when the waiter left. “And no prices on the menu.”

“Give it a rest, dad,” Garrus cut his complaining short. But there was barely any warning in his tone now.

Shepard was not really sure about that shift. Suddenly, her allies were all friendly with her enemy. Because they were a family in the first place. Shepard never had any proper family. She was always alone.

That’s not true. She had Normandy once. But now… Normandy was gone. Everything was gone. Everyone was far away, their messages taking months to get from one comm buoy to another. Everything was different. Everything was scarred and broken and slowly rebuilding. And that scarred, broken family slowly rebuilding in front of her was not her family. Not entirely and undeniably. She was still alone.

She had no idea why she was thinking about it right now. She was just tired. It was a long day.

“Oh, they have a universal section,” Solana scrolled through the items made artificially digestible by both dextro and levo species. “‘Roasted potatoes, Earth delicacy’. Is it really a delicacy, Shepard?”

“In some way, I guess,” Shepard grinned. “But eating them in a restaurant seems wrong. It’s more of a campfire food.”

“Campfire food? How do you do camping back on Earth?”

“Well… When it comes to the potatoes, we put them on a stick and roast them over the fire, singing old songs, telling ghost stories. When I was just starting in the Alliance, me and my squad spent every shore leave camping.

“That sounds so cool. During our camping trips, we ate military rations and cried.”

Garrus chuckled at that one.

“We did a lot of camping when we were kids but it was nothing like that,” he explained to Shepard. “We walked, climbed, ran obstacle courses and then, as a reward – target practice. And for food – military rations. To get us prepared for boot camp, of course.”

Shepard nodded with slow understanding.

“That sounds… intense.”

“I hated it,” Solana added. “Me and Garrus ran away once.”

“Don’t even remind me,” Castis groaned. “Sometimes I still wake up in cold sweat.”

“Come on,” Garrus sipped his wine with a smile. “We told mom where we’re going.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t tell me.”

“Part of the ruse, sir,” Solana remarked with pride. “And let me tell you, Shepard, for all his detective experience from the Citadel, dad was absolute crap at tracking us in the wilderness.”

Before Castis managed to voice his defense, the waiter was back to get their orders. All of them got a side dish from the universal menu – except for Castis.

“And how did it end?” Shepard asked when the waiter was gone, swirling sour wine in her glass. “Your big camping escape?”

“We made it back home on our own,” Solana replied cheerfully. “Garrus had some important party to attend to. He was so pressed about it, he ended up dragging me more than dad usually did.”

“Dad never carried you when you complained,” Garrus protested.

“He also never made me actually unable to move my legs.”

“What party could be this important?” Shepard looked at Garrus, trying to imagine him as a teenager caring about things like parties.

Garrus’ eyes narrowed as he tried to remember.

“I can’t remember now but it was probably some school council thing.”

“You were in the school council?”

“Are you kidding?” Solana chuckled into her glass. “He was the school president.”

“Only for a year,” Garrus waved it off as if it was something to be embarrassed of.

“Yeah, because then they sent you off to boot camp.”

“School president?” Awe in Shepard’s voice was hard to hide. She never even bothered voting in her school elections. “You must have been pretty popular.”

“Not really, just-”

“He was,” Solana was quicker. “I was known only as Garrus Vakarian’s sister for the entirety of my school.”

“I was known only as Castis Vakarian’s son for the entirety of mine.”

“And I was known only as Castis,” Their dad said with the tone of voice suggesting there was a big lecture incoming. “My school was up in the mountains, the only one in my town. I had to climb for three hours every day-”

“And hungry nathak waited to ambush me at every corner,” Solana finished, mimicking his voice.

“Well… yeah. And there’s nothing to mock, I had only a stick to scare them off. You had a bus and security and everything. And one day you will appreciate it.”

“We already do, dad,” Garrus assured. “Your camping trips showed us what hell we were spared from.”

Solana laughed into her glass as their food arrived.

Tiberius Hotel’s head chef was a turian with an incredible touch for human food. Shepard knew any kind of pasta was a safe choice, and she had already tested out something that amounted to a dextro salad washed out of all the proteins. It tasted fake but tasted somehow and after years of military slop, Shepard deemed any somehow better than nothing.

Solana, on the other hand, really liked protein-free roasted potatoes and declared it more than a few times, extremely enthusiastically, staring at Shepard as if she was the one responsible for preparing the meal.

“I don’t believe you,” Castis said, looking at Solana’s side plate with disgust. “It can’t taste good.”

“Try it.”

“I’m not eating that.”

“Why? Because it’s alien? That’s xenophobic, dad.”

“You’re calling me xenophobic? I’m sitting at the table with an alien.”

Even Castis must have heard how it sounded since he cleared his throat ostentatiously, quickly taking a big sip of his wine as both Garrus and Solana glared at him with disapproval.

Shepard smiled into her glass. At least that one seemed like an accident. She would even find it funny if someone who didn’t hate her said that.

“Anyway, it’s really good,” Solana turned back to Shepard. “Wish they served it in some normal joints. That hotel is a bit above my poor student scholarship.”

“Then come here as often as you can, as long as we’re here,” Shepard said, realizing how much she would actually like that.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Garrus agreed eagerly. “We’re leaving in about two weeks. Hitting Thessia this time.”

There was sudden sadness in Solana’s eyes, even as she said:

“Wow. Thessia! You’ll send me something really nice this time, right?”

“What, you don’t like the postcards?”

“I would never give up the postcards. But send me some, I don’t know, asari diamonds or something. You know, to celebrate your new income bracket.”

Garrus chuckled as Solana tapped tips of her talons against her glass, smiling to herself.

“You were on Tuchanka before coming here, right?”

“Yeah,” Shepard said. “But it was more of a diplomatic mission than proper vacation. Had to clear up a few things with krogan leaders.”

“And you chose Palaven for proper vacation? I admire your spirit but this planet hates visitors.”

“It’s not that bad. Especially if you’re suddenly filthy rich and can afford all that.”

Shepard gestured towards the screens hiding the outside world from the restaurant’s guests.

“If I knew Alliance pays this well, I would sign up for their interspecies initiatives a long time ago.”

“Actually, Solana, it’s not a payment,” Castis cut in suddenly. “It’s retirement fund.”

He finished his glass of wine with satisfaction that hardly had anything to do with the taste.

“All money and no work,” Solana sighed and Shepard was either tipsy or paranoid - but she genuinely couldn’t tell if there was a jab hidden in that tone. And at whom it was directed. “A dream. I mean, it was hardly a dream getting to that point. Wouldn’t want to go through that.”

Shepard really didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s not exactly retirement,” she said, to her own surprise. “It’s more like a break. We still had this diplomatic mission on Tuchanka, we had a few meetings here and it will probably be the same on Thessia.”

“Ah. So you’re like an ambassador now?”

“No, not exactly. I am… no one, really, now. Just trying to get my life back on track. Or not really back, just on any track.”

“Right, right, I understand it. We’re all probably at the same point.”

“Right.”

It weighted heavy over the table. What they didn’t talk about. The thing they were shielded from in this hotel, thanks to the screens hiding Palaven’s landscape. The sound of Solana’s grim souvenir as she shifted her leg under the table. Shepard’s scarless arm that didn’t remember the time when it had scars all over.

“You can go to Thessia with us,” Garrus said, desperately trying to change the subject. “Both of you. We have priority clearance for the relays they managed to fix so far. Haven’t used it yet, but why not?”

“Thanks, but I have exams coming up,” Solana smiled charitably.

“And not really feeling like spending weeks aboard a ship anytime soon,” Castis added.

“Ah, right,” Garrus said, the dark shadow back over the table.

It was miserable, Shepard realised. They were all so miserable.

“We’ve been to the opera yesterday,” she said, not really caring it was completely out of nowhere. She just wanted to say something.

“I love opera,” Solana hurried with a warm smile. “What have you seen?”

“‘The Weight of Duty.’”

Castis laughed. He was not fast enough to stifle it with another sip of his wine. Shepard looked at him. She was really unsure now if she would be able to proceed or if it was the moment to abandon the battlefield.

But before she could decide, Garrus had his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together in the investigator mode.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Castis said. “I just remembered something.”

“Care to share it?”

Now Castis actually met his glare.

“Care not to speak to me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Disrespectfully. Commander, what have you thought about ‘The Weight of Duty’?”

“I liked it,” Shepard shrugged.

“You liked it? No deeper thoughts?”

“I-”

“I have some deeper thoughts,” Solana cut in. “‘The Weight of Duty’ is nice flashy piece of disgusting military propaganda.”

“Sol,” The warning note was back in Garrus’ voice.

“A classic’s still a classic,” Castis shrugged in return.

“So you don’t like it, sir?” Shepard inquired.

“‘The Weight of Duty’? I think it’s excellent.”

“Dad loves the weight, the duty, the service, all that lovely stuff,” Solana explained before anyone managed to get the conversation back on track. “He also loves the work, the workaholism, the excuses and the setting-your-life-the-way-he-wants-no-matter-if-you-asked-or-not.”

“Sol!”

“What, Garrus?! What?!”

But it was Castis who said:

“Can’t we seriously have one nice family dinner?”

Shepard quickly busied her lips with drinking before they had a chance to speak.

“I don’t know, dad, can we?" Solana took the opposite course of action. "Can you not be an asshole for one single day?”

“Me? An asshole? I didn’t slam the door in the middle of the night and showed up the next day reeking of horosk!”

“Dad-!”

But before Garrus managed to get his plea out, Solana pointed the talon at the middle of her father’s chest.

“Fuck you.”

“Sol!" And Garrus turned back to her. "Please, just shut up and-”

But Solana got up from the table, her chair almost falling and Garrus’ soul almost leaving his body.

“No, Sol, I beg you-”

“He knows why I slammed that door!”

“I warned you she’s in one of her moods,” Castis said grimly.

He definitely pushed his luck now. And he miscalculated terribly. Terribly for everyone involved.

Solana turned to Shepard with rage blazing in her blue eyes, glasses and plates clinking as she planted her fists on the table.

“Shepard, my dad is dead set on hating you. Because of you, Garrus had half of his face blown off. Because of you he is on vacation instead of working his ass off to make this world seem like the REAPERS never happened. Because of you he was not here when… we needed him. We both needed him. And to top it all off, you’re a human and a Spectre so, you know, no bonus points there. That’s why I slammed the door on him and fuck, I’m going to do it again!”

But Castis got up and there was silence. Solana glared up at him with a challenge as he towered over her, no distress on his face, even as his posture was all tense.

Then he just turned around and walked away, soon disappearing in the crowd gathered around krogan singer’s stage. Leaving the battlefield.

Their table was silent. Shepard vaguely knew they got some looks from the staff and other guests, but right now she couldn’t care less. It’s not like Solana said anything Shepard didn’t already know. But to hear such a loud and clear confirmation… It stung.

“Thanks a lot, Sol,” Garrus finally broke the silence.

“You’re welcome.”

“You really couldn’t hold it in just for an hour longer? You just couldn’t do it?”

“No!” she slammed her hand on the table, making tableware clink again. “I couldn’t take him dragging you both over living your lives even for a minute longer!”

“We spent the whole day with him acting like adults and you come here, late, hangover, just itching to cause trouble!”

“I told you it’s a bad idea! But you called me on a fucking emergency line and told me you need an ally!”

“An ally in making all of this go smoothly and nice!”

“Nice? Spirits, Garrus, in what world do you expect nice? From him?”

Garrus took a pause. As if he knew he shouldn't say that. But then he did.

“From you.”

All the fight seemed to leave Solana’s body.

“Yeah. Of course you do. I should hang my head low and let him berate all of us for the rest of the evening. So at least he would feel nice. I’m getting out of here. Have a nice trip to Thessia.”

“Sol, wait-”

She turned around, trying to storm off to the door leading out of the restaurant, her braces taking everything out of her momentum.

“This fucking leg!”

She stopped halfway there, trying to fix some screw on her thigh and then there was Shepard in front of her face.

Solana let out an exasperated sigh but at least didn’t rush right through her.

“I’m sorry,” Shepard said.

Solana left the screw alone, looking at her in confusion.

“For what?”

Shepard smiled awkwardly.

“For the Reapers.”

“…Rumor has it we don’t have the Reapers thanks to you.”

“It’s just a rumor,” Now her smile was back to bitter. “There was a lot of us doing the job.”

Solana sighed once again, this time speaking much quieter.

“And Garrus was one of them, I know that. Still. It was hard. On a lot of us. And he won’t make it nice in one day. Not like that.”

“I know. He probably does, too. Still. He really cares. He had a plan and everything.”

“Of course he did. But it had zero chance of succeeding the moment he invited this asshole-”

“But it was irrelevant. Family’s a family. And I’m under the impression you have enough to quarrel about without the subject of me added into the mix.”

“Well, yeah. But you’re part of that family now. You have to deal with that mix.”

That was the nicest thing Shepard heard all day. The kind of nice that made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“I’ll do my best.”

“You better,” Solana nodded, much calmer now. “Do we seem very crazy to you?”

Shepard thought about the way they all laughed at sad singing krogan.

“Yep.”

“Making a scene in the middle of the restaurant didn’t help?”

“Nope. You’re coming back though, right?”

Solana peeked over her shoulder as Garrus immediately tore his eyes away from them, the glass in his hand suddenly the most interesting sight in the entire flashy restaurant.

“I already made a big exit,” Solana turned back to Shepard. “How awkward would it be if I just… came back there?”

“Very.”

They both knew it did not change a thing.

“Okay. But there’s no way I’m apologizing to anyone for anything.”

“Deal.”

It took a while but all three of them convinced themselves to go search for Castis. They found him sitting alone by the table right next to the speakers, making him hear precisely all flavors of sorrow in the singer’s voice. They sat down by him without a word. Castis said nothing, too, preferring to stay facing the stage.

“This song,” The singer’s voice faltered with emotions. “is dedicated to the human soldier who saved my life when I was in London.”

There was immediate enthusiastic reaction, especially from tipsy human part of the audience, when the band started another mournful tune.

Why does the sun go on shining?

Why does the sea rush to shore?

Don't they know it's the end of the world

'Cause you don't love me anymore?

Why do the birds go on singing?

Why do the stars glow above?

Don't they know it's the end of the world?

It ended when I lost your love

There was a loud applause as the song ended and singer waved to the happily drunk crowd. All four of them applauded too, Vakarians raising their drinks high, Shepard doing her awkward human clap.

Castis finally turned back to them, his face all serious, his mandibles tense. Then his expression changed as he did something Shepard would best describe as a turian side-eye directed at this one-in-a-lifetime performance.

The three of them laughed at the same time, together, with no explanations, no apologies, no words, not resolving any single issue they had before. It was nice.

Chapter Text

When taxi arrived, Solana was the first one to say goodbye.

“See you around,” she gave them both a firm handshake. “I’ll drop by in a few days. And you should jump in your enviro-suit so we could hang out somewhere where it could actually be my treat.”

“I’ll hold you to it, Sol,” Shepard said with a bright smile.

Castis was the first one to extend his hand to her.

“It was nice to meet you,” he said and Shepard did notice he didn’t use ‘Commander’.

“Likewise,” she replied and it was comforting to know she wasn’t lying any more than him.

And then they left. The day was over. It was only two of them now.

“So,” Garrus said when the skycar was not even a dot on the horizon. “That was my family.”

“I gathered that.”

They turned back to the building, walking through the crowded lobby, yet finally feeling blissfully alone.

“Drinks?” he asked.

“On the roof?” she replied.

“I love you,” he agreed.

It was a casual, off-hand remark, acknowledgment of their great minds working in similar ways rather than a confession of a fact she already knew – but Shepard still giggled, all too aware of warmth in her cheeks. In fact, there was warmth in her chest, too. It’s been more than a year since she said that for the first time, it’s been more than a year since he said it for the first time, yet now it hit her in a way it had no right to after such a long time of saying it back and forth.

This ‘I love you’ was like sealing the deal. Yes, his family doesn’t accept her unconditionally, yes, they are justified to feel that way about at least some of the stuff and yes, Shepard does not like his family in its entirety either – but Garrus loves her. No matter what. They’re going to get their favourite drinks and admire Cipritine from Tiberius Hotel’s rooftop, just like they always do. No matter what.

It was technically illegal to get on the roof – but who gave a damn? They were rich and brave and they had a tradition.

“Your turn,” Shepard patted her thigh as they sat down with their legs hanging over the roof’s edge.

Garrus laid down with his head on her lap, closing exhausted eyes with a contented sigh as her fingers caressed edges of his rough faceplates. This warmth in Shepard’s chest was not going anywhere. Not when he was so close and looking so peaceful. Not when he opened his eyes, admiring the city behind faint shimmer of anti-radiation shields, lost deep in his thoughts. Not when Shepard followed his gaze and saw the good part of the city. Already rebuilt part of the city.

She always took special care not to look to the sides where dark ruins stuck out like rotten bones. She always took special care not to look up at Menae. Truth be told, there was hardly any planet Shepard could escape to and not have to be careful about looking the wrong way.

Today, she looked.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said.

“Me too,” Garrus’ head turned to face her. “But still no idea how I’m going to make today up to you.”

She smiled down at him, shaking her head gently.

“I have one.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s stay here. On Palaven.”

His bodily functions paused. He wasn’t blinking and it seemed like his heart stopped beating.

“What?”

“Let’s stay here. Find something to do. Buy an apartment. With no discount, of course.”

He sat up now, settling next to her, his legs joining hers over the roof’s edge.

“Why?”

“Your family is here. They missed you, you missed them. It just makes sense.”

She said it all like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Meanwhile, Garrus looked like he could hardly believe his ears.

“You want to stay this close to them? After today? Really?”

“It was not bad enough to run to another star system, come on. And you need them. And they need you. You’re all a mess.”

“Not that I disagree but… I thought you wanted to take a break from all of that.”

Shepard sighed heavily, as if taking a look at Menae drained all the energy out of her body.

“The only way to take a break from all of that would be finding a planet so unhospitable, even the Reapers paid no attention to it.”

“True. But there are some planets where the sun is not trying to kill you.”

“Yeah,” Shepard chuckled. “About that… I could get anti-radiation implants. It’s not like one cybernetic more is going to kill me. And I’ve read about humans getting them and most of them say it’s just fine.”

Garrus stared at her, taking a long disbelieving pause before speaking again.

“But it’s… You don’t have to do it. I can figure my family out, we have vidcalls and mailboxes and our own separate lives. You don’t have to worry about them.”

“I will because you will. And it's not like we have to stay here forever-forever. But would it be so bad? It's pretty nice when you get over radiation sickness and ruins.”

Garrus didn't chuckle - he cocked his head to the side, his visor probably scanning her for some signs of distress.

“Did my dad threaten you into this?”

“He wishes,” Shepard scoffed. “It’s entirely my idea and I don’t think he will be too happy to hear it. He is an asshole but he does read people pretty well. Don’t ever tell him I said that.”

“Deal. If you don’t tell Sol how much I admire her every time she tells dad exactly what she thinks.”

“My lips are sealed.”

It was Shepard’s turn to put her head on his lap now.

It was never exactly cold in Cipritine, sometimes it was just perfectly cool. The night air was perfectly crispy. Garrus’ talons going through her hair were just perfect. This whole thing they had going on was just perfect. This moment was just so perfect. There was simply nothing that could ruin it.

“So, Shepard,” Garrus, of course, attempted to prove her wrong. “You want to move in with me? I’m not sure if I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

“We’ve been living together for-”

“Yeah, but the ship, hospitals and hotels just don’t hold the same weight. Buying apartment is a pretty big deal. What’s going to be your next great idea? Marriage?”

She sent him a deadly glare.

“We’re not talking about marriage today.”

“Okay. What about tomorrow?”

“Don’t push it, Vakarian.”

He chuckled now, his hand cradling her cheek. Shepard straight up sighed with bliss.

“Alright, Mrs. Vakarian.”

She groaned in embarrassment, blush creeping back onto her face, his laughter loud and happy.

“I’m not taking your last name, by the way, it was just for comedic purposes.”

“We have different customs for names here, anyway.”

“Really? Damn, I have so much to learn about turian culture.”

“Mhm,” he tore his eyes away from her to take the full view of Cipritine in. “Good thing we’re staying at the heart of it, then.”