Home: Chapter 14

He sat motionless in the chair. False light splayed through the large glass windows, illuminating the office in a white glow. Vehicles floated by noiselessly, content in their leisurely pace.  Colorfully garbed figures walked to and fro, letting the light and water add some beauty to their lives. Groundskeepers pruned and preened every vestige of greenery. They have no idea what's happened. His eyes roamed to the curved heights of the Presidium. Supports latticed the sky in patterns of strength. A bitter grin ghosted along his lips at the sight. I would have liked to go up there with you. But now…

"Garrus," Anderson interrupted in a soft voice. Garrus' gaze snapped back to the human across the desk. They eyed each other, failing resolve mirrored in their rigid muscles.  Steel of discipline tempered their faces until no emotion remained. "Say something, would you?"

Garrus nearly snorted at the human's words. Say something? What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed snap a salute and thank him for the information? Was he supposed to fly into a fit of tears and snarls, cursing the spirits? What was there to say? Shepard was dead. Words were pointless.

He locked eyes with the Councilor again. Deep in the pools of brown, sadness wept and wailed for the lost commander. Neither of them could rage against the cruel machinations of the universe. Neither could crumple to the ground to weep and grieve. No, men of duty had no time for such things. They locked it away in a vault, deep in their hollowed chests.

"I… uh – " His mind whirled for the right words to say. "Thank you for telling me yourself, Anderson. It's… it's a lot to take in."

"That's quite the understatement," Anderson softly chuckled. He slowly stood up from his spot. Wear wrinkled his dark face as he straightened his stiff knees. "I'll keep you updated on the… arrangements."

"Again, thank you."

Garrus rose from the seat. The motion broke the spell of the brightly lit room. He was still alive and the words carefully buried in his mind were real. Shepard was gone, wrapped in space and fire. Garrus quickly grasped Anderson's hand in an amicable shake. The military firmness was gone and replaced by the comforting touch of empathy.

"You might want to consider taking a vacation," Anderson let his hand fall to his side. "You look like hell."

"What's that human saying?" Garrus crossed his arms tightly. With no more touch, he was alone. "Pot calling the kettle black?"

"Point taken." Anderson faintly smiled and nodded farewell to the turian.

The smell of flowers and crisp water lightly wafted about his head as he left the human embassy. The Presidium stretched out before him, bathed in it's surreal light. Everything glowed with a lost magic in a time of science. People milled about the seemingly endless walkways and businesses. New couples and old lovers clasped hands and reveled in the smallest of embraces. All laughed and smiled and enjoyed the newfound beauty life. Cold slid painfully into his stomach, pooling deep in the reaches of his body. He'd never see her smile again or hear her laugh. Never again will the cool light of the Presidium touch her face. I can never tell her how I feel. Never know how she feels in my arms. Shepard was dead. His mentor, friend, unrequited love was gone.