This mess-hall was deserted at this hour; most of the Normandy crew had long since retired to their cabins to rest, even if just for a few hours. The only sounds that could be heard was the dull hum of the ship's drive core below in the engineering deck and the sound of Garrus' feet against the metal flooring as he walked across the mess-hall. He moved towards the small kitchen that was open for any member of the crew to use, intent on grabbing a glass of water before returning to Shepard's cabin.

After grabbing a glass of water, Garrus moved to the large table at the center of the mess hall, setting his glass and datapad on the table before sitting down. He slowly took a sip from the glass and allowed himself to be absorbed by his thoughts. He often woke up during the late hours (of what one could call night, although night truly didn't exist here) and used these still, quiet times to simply think. There weren't enough of them in the galaxy anymore.

The craziness of the war with the Reapers didn't allow for time to think; they were constantly going out on missions, trying to bring the galaxy together long enough to pitch a fight again those merciless machines. Although they seemed crazy at the time, the pursuit of Saren and the fight against the Collectors paled in comparison to the sheer chaos of this so-called war. There was nothing quite like seeing your cities burn and crumble around you or the sounds of the innocents — women, children, civilians — screaming, and nothing could have fully prepared the galaxy for the ruthless calculus of this war, not Saren, not the fight against the Collectors, not even Shepard's warnings three years before. The Reapers brought a fight far greater than the anyone in the galaxy could have expected.

Despite the chaos and despite the odds, Garrus watched as Shepard — his commanding officer, his best friend, his lover — continued to rally everyone she could against the Reapers, day-in, day-out. While her combat abilities were exceptional (and he should know, as he has continuously watched her six through nearly every firefight since they met in 2183, barring the two years she was dead), She had this ability to instill hope in the people around her, himself included, and her determination was relentless. He admired her ability to make tough decisions and diplomatic calls where others could not — her decision to destroy the Alpha Relay, sacrificing over three hundred thousand innocents for the good of the galaxy; her choice to cure the genophage and unite the turians and krogan against the reapers; her call to have the geth and quarians cooperate — and perhaps to any other face, she always seemed to be ready to fight, whatever the cause and whatever the cost. But he knew her better, and he knew this war was wearing her down, slowly but surely. Her nightmares were growing more and more frequent as the war dragged on, which only made her insomnia worse. There were rare times when she would sleep through the night, but more often than not she either had trouble falling asleep or woke up, shaking, from her all too frequent nightmares.

Fortunately, tonight was one of those rare nights when Shepard seemed to sleep peacefully. Before Garrus came down to mess hall, she hadn't tossed, turned, or broke a sweat — all of which were signs that her dreams were going downhill. Garrus thanked the spirits that she seemed to be getting a good night's rest, even if he wasn't. The Normandy had set course for the Asari homeworld Thessia, which was now suffering a full onslaught from the Reapers, and Shepard would need all of the rest she could get. The mission was to recover a top secret artifact that was too valuable to fall into the wrong hands, and with any luck, this artifact would help Shepard locate the Catalyst. As key component to the Crucible, a superweapon with the potential to destroy the Reapers, locating the Catalyst had become top priority for Shepard.

Thoughts of Shepard and the upcoming mission brought Garrus' attention back to the world around him and, more specifically, to his datapad in front of him. He picked up the datapad, tapped the holographic screen a few times, and opened the mission statement Shepard had sent to all of the squad members. He reviewed the specifics of the mission, mentally preparing himself for what they would be facing. Before she went to bed, she had informed him that she would be taking him on this mission and that he "should get some rest", as they would arrive in the Parnitha system the next day. He chuckled at the irony of that.

Once he finished reviewing the mission statement, Garrus opened his personal messages on his datapad, tapping Shepard's name to open up their message thread. With all of the chaos of the war, smiles were few and far in between for Shepard, and he hoped that he could at least bring a smile to her face when she woke up. It was the small things — a message, a conversation, a memory — that made you forget the war raging all around you, even if just for a moment. He knew she needed that, now more than ever, and he desperately hoped that he could at least give her that. Using his two talon-tipped fingers, he quickly typed out a message that read:



Garrus' mandibles flared in a turian sort of smile as he sent the message to her datapad. She would read it in the morning, no doubt, and he knew it would bring a smile to her face. It was always the small things.

Once the message was sent, Garrus downed the rest of his water before standing up and moving away from the table, glass and datapad in hand. He put the glass in the sink, beside a few other stray dishes that needed cleaning, and moved across the mess hall, toward the elevator.

Before boarding the elevator, Garrus stopped in front of it and gazed at the memorial wall. On the wall was a list of fallen Normandy crew members, their names permanently etched into metal to honor their lives. Some of the names brought back memories of friends for Garrus — friends like Kaidan, Mordin, Thane and Legion. As the war raged on, the list of names seemed to be growing longer and longer. Currently, the memorial wall honored twenty-six individuals. It was a small fraction of the lives lost in this war, to Saren, and to the Collectors, and the casualties were only growing. Garrus took a moment to honor the lives lost, and prayed to the Spirits, if they really did exist, that no more names, the names of friends and those that fought to end this war, would be etched into those cold plates of metal and added to the memorial. He knew it was unlikely, but he couldn't help but hope that they would all make it out of this alive. This galaxy had seen enough loss, and he hoped and prayed that it would end soon.

Garrus stood there, silent and motionless, for what seemed like hours, considering the losses and sacrifices of this war. He sighed softly before tearing himself from his thoughts and turning around to board the elevator, ready to return to Shepard's cabin. He needed rest, even if it was just a few hours worth, before they landed on Thessia and faced the ruthlessness of the Reapers once again.

Story and Profile by sentinel
Pixels by ren
Much love to Lucifer to snagging this name for me!

Garrus is a fanpet dedicated to Garrus Vakarian of the Mass Effect trilogy, and therefore his character is owned by Bioware. In addition, any other mentioned characters and lore are copyright to Bioware.

The message Garrus sends to Shepard is taken directly from a message Garrus sends on the Mass Effect: Datapad app for iPhone.