Chapter Text
The metal was soothing against his forehead. The mantis was still in his hand, barrel still slightly warm. The artificial light was aggressive against his eyes as he opened them. He groaned, moving slightly, his foot knocking the pile of thermal clips. Causing them to roll and bump into his helmet with a soft clatter.
He sat up quickly, the noise jolting him awake. He had been on Earth, on the battlefield. He reached down to his waist, trying to find the bleeding. But there was nothing there. His armour was intact. He reached up to his cowl, fully intact. He ran his free fingers along his face. No blood, No scarring. But it had all been so real?
The sound of a bullet glancing off the balcony brought him back to his senses. He ducked low, placing his helmet back on his head before checking his surroundings. Clinical, purpose built architecture. Beds along the back wall. Sofas, chairs. Those damned decorative plants. The metallic roof of a space station, sterile metal and artificial lights. Distantly he can hear voices and the whirring of machinery. He’s on the balcony, bullet holes litter the surface. Almost every surface. Omega.
It wasn’t real. Any of it. The banshee, Earth, the collector base, Menae, Tuchanka… Everything. It had all just been some crazy dream. And if the throbbing headache he had was anything to go by, a side effect of taking too many stims.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the not memories that still clung to him. He did a quick scan down the scope. Eclipse, Blood Pack. All still there. He could hear their excited chatter even from here. They probably assumed the silence was him bleeding out from a lucky hit. Idiots. His finger twitched on the trigger. No. Wait. Probably better to let them think he was dead. It gave him some time.
He slumped back against the wall. Shepard. He couldn’t get the image out of his head. Her sprinting toward the beam. The brute behind her. That wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. He hadn’t seen her in months. She was gone. Dead, down along with the Normandy. And Cerberus? Bringing her back? Ridiculous.
He’d blacked out thinking about her, stims burning through his system. That was all. His brain gave him some wish-fulfilment nonsense. Shepard as a teammate again. That voice. That look. A hallucination. That was all.
And yet… The feeling remained. Crawling up his spine, like a whisper just out of earshot.
He slid a fresh concussion shot into the mantis, before scanning down the gauntlet, past the merc barricade. And then, he saw it.
The armour. Black with the red and white stripe down one shoulder. N7 on the breastplate. A salarian beside her, a Cerberus logo following behind.
He didn’t think. He fired, mercs be damned.
The round caught her clean. Her shields flickered blue, then failed. She staggered, the same way, the same moment. The same everything.
By the time he was waking up in the Normandy med bay, half his face bandaged and Dr Chakwas explaining about the cybernetics she had grafted into his face, neck and shoulder he was convinced he was going mad. He scarcely paid any attention to her, the corridors were familiar. Too familiar. His legs moved without thinking, carrying him straight to the comm room.
He hadn’t been here before. So how did he know every turn?
Shepard smiled when she saw him. The real her. He laughed, genuinely, when she mentioned the facepaint. It was the same line. Same look. Same everything.
And it just wouldn’t stop.
Back in the main battery and pacing like a caged varren. Garrus tried to glue the pieces of reality back together. This had all happened before. It had to have. Sidonis. Horizon. The relay. Jack dying. Tali dying. Palaven. He remembered everything. Not like a dream. Like a memory.
Was it possible? How could it be possible?
“Are you okay Officer Vakarian?”
“Hm?” He was knocked out of his train of thought. It took him a moment to realise it was EDI talking.
“You have been pacing for a considerable amount of time.”
“No, uh.” He stopped in his tracks. Cerberus, EDI, cameras. He needed to be careful
“Just thinking EDI. Old habit.”
“If the loss of your squad is affecting you Officer Vakarian, Yeoman Chambers is trained in psychological evaluation and would be happy to assist you.”
“Yeah.. Uh. Thanks EDI. I’ll think about it.” EDI’s blue orb blinked out and Garrus found himself seemingly alone again. He placed his back to the bulkhead, sliding down until he was seated on the metal floor. He couldn’t move past it. The memory, the dream.