Chapter 7: Emotional Baggage

Udina and Anderson tried to convince Shepard to wear her N7 uniform to the memorial, to be an easily recognizable figurehead. But of all the "figurehead" shit they made her do the past week, this was the one she refused.

This memorial wasn't about her and her suit of armor. It was about those who weren't so lucky at the end of the battle.

This was about Ash.

So, Shepard wore simple black pants and a button-up shirt. She didn't want to stand out at all. Not today, not when she was the one who made the call that meant Ash couldn't be here. The main memorial was held in the Presidium- Udina and Anderson wanted people to be inspired by the up-and-coming reconstruction.

But afterward, Anderson let her and the crew use his apartment as a more personal funeral for Ashley. She appreciated it, because they couldn't make it back to Earth for the one her parents were putting together. Though, she wasn't sure her parents would want her there. That, or they'd say the words "noble sacrifice" or "hero" too much and Shepard would have to find the nearest bar to burn that out of her brain.

No, they all just needed to remember her as a team. The past few months had changed all of them, and Ash was a huge part of that.

Of all people, Wrex was the first to talk about the Gunnery Chief. "Williams was an asshole when I met her, and maybe she was still an asshole by the time she was gone. But somewhere in between, we took a lot of shots together. It woulda been nice to take a few more with her."

Everyone clapped at the short speech, and even though it was only a handful of people, it was nice. Much like Ash would've preferred, there was an open bar and implied dancing later. Shepard really didn't feel like dancing, but if Ash goaded her, she would've.

But Ash wasn't here, was she?

Yeah, that one hurt like a motherfucker when she swallowed it down, watching Tali pull the rest of her crewmates into swaying to Ash's favorite songs. The unofficial wingwoman now became the leader, at least for one night.

Anya knew she wasn't being a great participant in the memories, but she had already done a rousing, Councilor edited speech about Ash and the others during the big memorial. Right now, she was spent and all she wanted to do was remember that Ash loved these people and she'd love this party and damn did she wish she was here.

While she didn't mean to leave as early as she did, Anya didn't know if she could keep up the strong hero facade much longer. Saren was gone and it was time to finally experience all the pain and feelings that had been gnawing at her heels. And she had to stop running.

But before she could slip out the door, someone grabbed her arm.

Anya looked up and two bright blue eyes were glaring down at her. "You said I'd get to help."

Staring back at Garrus Vakarian, his voice low and his grip firm, Anya couldn't keep fighting. Nodding, she let him walk out with her. They stopped by Flux to grab a bottle of classic Russian vodka before heading to the empty Normandy to do the whole feelings thing in her room.

She really didn't need the whole crew accidentally seeing her turn into an absolute disaster when they came back. She didn't even really want Garrus to see her like this, but the damned turian insisted. So, might as well prep him for the firing squad.

When they got into her room, Anya stopped dead the second the door closed behind them. She couldn't look at him, but she could already feel the pressure build on her face as she pictured the last time she heard Ash's voice.

Whispering, she said, "It should've been me."

"What--"

Anya wrapped her arms around her shoulders, felt the tears run down her cheeks. It only burned worse. She got to cry about this shit, and Ash-- "It always should've been me. There were better soldiers on Akuze that deserved to survive more than I did, but my Commander chose me to head back because of my tactical cloaking abilities. I got to run because I could hide. And with Ash, I should've made sure that mission was complete, not left it to a soldier who had so much less baggage to give the world. And the council. Why do I always end up alive when everyone else ends up dead?"

Garrus walked around her, stood in front of her, but she still wouldn't look. He seemed desperate not to push her, so he kept his hands to himself and tried to keep things simple. "Sounds like you're really struggling with that survivor's guilt."

"Of course it's survivor's guilt. Because I keep surviving and people I love keep dying. Hell, I don't even need to love them. It doesn't matter. If I love them, if I push them away, even if I fucking hate them. They're dead. People die in the military, I get it. But I've been on fifty missions where someone didn't come back. Twenty of them, it was more than one. Three of them, I was the only one left alive. I've watched more friends die than friends I have alive, by a painfully wide margin. I don't know if I can keep doing this, but everyone just keeps looking up to me like I'm some hero when really I'm just always the only one left."

This time, he stayed quiet. After a prolonged silence, he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. They were gentle and warm and more than she deserved. But she pressed her face into his shirt and balled her fists against his chest, holding onto the fabric like it was a lifeline. "Survivor's guilt is hard, but it's starting to feel like I'm the one killing people, Garrus. And I don't know if I can live with that."

"I can't change what hurts, and I can't bring those people back. But I can say that you don't bring people together because you're some angel of death. You bring them together because you're willing to fight the fights everyone else calls a lost cause."

Anya finally looked up at him, with all his sharpness and angles and alien features, and only found someone that made her feel safe. The only person that really made her feel safe.

Garrus continued, "You got a jaded C-Sec officer who probably would've gotten fired to drop everything and help stop the bad guy that he thought no one would stop. You did something I used to think might be impossible. You're hurt, and you're still a squishy human, but you're also still a hero that people would follow into hell."

Taking a deep breath, Anya added, "Yeah, but sometimes I wish they'd stop following me. And I think she could've been a better hero."

Garrus didn't say anything. Not because he agreed, because the way he tilted his face and eyes when she said that said otherwise. But because she was pretty sure he also knew that she didn't care if he disagreed with her.

Instead, he stepped back and picked up the vodka. "You didn't seem to need this to get out the feelings. Still wanna go for it?"

Anya shook her head, figuring if she could cry without the booze, there was no point risking it. "Nah. I'll save nectar from the motherland for a different occasion." Grabbing the bottle out of his hand, she put it on her shelf. She had no clue when she'd ever take it down, but she didn't really want to know.

"What made this time different?"

Turning back towards him, her eyebrows raised. She didn't know what he meant by that. "Hmm?"

"I mean what made you have to break down."

She didn't mean to laugh, not in such a sarcastic, dark way. But when she let out a snort and stopped, she thought she might as well tell him the truth. "I always break down afterwards. The only difference this time is that you were here, wanting to help put the pieces back together. I always used to do it by myself."

His eyes met hers and she couldn't tell what he was thinking. There was something sad and deep and soulful in the way he was looking at her. And then he started stepping towards her, and she didn't mean for her dumb heart to race or for her face to flush, but they did. Garrus probably just pitied her, just feeling bad about her sad life. But then he stopped mere inches in front of her and asked, "Why did you do it alone for so long?"

"Because until you, I didn't believe anyone when they said they wanted to help me."

If she didn't know better, she'd say things felt very warm in between them, almost electric. And the way he was looking down at her, it felt like he was so close, and she knew she shouldn't even think about leaning closer, but everything about him made her feel like...

Well, it made her feel like she had a home. And she hadn't felt that way in years.

But just as she closed her eyes and accepted the consequences of whatever was happening, her door pinged open and Joker walked himself over to her bed and laid down. Both she and Garrus jolted and just stared at him while he did it, but he seemed too drunk to give a damn.

The confused turian gestured to their pilot and asked, "Do I need to know something about you two?"

Anya was ready to throw Joker out the fucking airlock.

"Yes. I mean, no. Nothing like you think." She tried to run a hand through her hair, but her damn bun was in the way. Right. She had put it up to be formal at the memorial. Pulling out the ties and pins, she then got the proper stress relief. Anya explained, "When at the Academy, Joker's condition meant he couldn't stay in the dorms like everyone else just in case he had a bone break. My mother taught when he went there, so he stayed with us. He's like my younger cousin, and he has a bad habit of hijacking my room whenever he gets drunk so that I can help make sure he didn't break himself. Or be there to help if he did."

Garrus tried to stay straight-faced, but even he wound up laughing. "So this has happened before?"

"Unfortunately. Even on this ship. I'm kinda surprised I haven't had to explain it until now."

They both just stared at the passed-out Joker until Garrus sighed, seemed to accept the state of things, and sat down on her couch. On the left side, like he did every movie night. Anya tried to be casual sitting next to him, but her heart palpitations were still struggling to calm down. He had this perplexed look on his face. "So your mom was a teacher? I thought she was Navy."

"Not by choice. I was trying to rebel by not joining the Alliance. She was making a point to keep me close to it, even taking in a very enthusiastic flight student, to try to convince me otherwise. When she finally got her way after a few months, she left Joker and I the apartment and went back to being a Captain. She's a soldier, through and through."

"So you weren't kidding when you said she pushed you to be like her. Like my father pushed me."

"Absolutely not. And I've become everything she could ever dream, despite my attempts to just be a good person and not get too much attention."

"Sounds like one hell of a childhood. Is it a Russian thing? You talk about that Earth region you're from a lot and it seems... very intense."

"Not quite, she just happens to be a terrible stereotype of a super intense Russian woman. But she's not all vodka and muscles and "for the motherland". She fell in love with an American, after all. John Shepard. Also an Alliance pilot, before he died. I think it's why she took such an unnatural liking to Joker."

"My father did that with my childhood friend, Panek. Always brought him with us on field trips to his office or military bases. Said he reminded him of his brother, a reckless young soldier who got himself killed during the Skyllian Blitz."

"And what happened to Panek?"

"Let's just say he was probably a bit too much like my uncle." Garrus leaned into the couch and, despite the loss that tinged his face, he almost seemed nostalgic talking about it all. Anya liked to hear him talk. "But my family isn't all difficult military men. I have Solana, my sister. I've mentioned her before. She's the responsible one, got into politics and interplanetary relations more than the military, but she is also the pestering kind. Speaking of, I'll have to message her after this. Haven't done that this week and if I don't, she'll give me hell."

When he laughed, it was filled with familial love and admiration and years of memories. Anya almost wished she had more of a traditional family. Before the Citadel, she couldn't remember the last time she heard from her mom. Was it when she got Spectre? Was there any time in between? And she definitely couldn't remember the last time they met face to face. But with all her musings, Garrus was giving her this serious look and said, "I already know Joker and you clearly don't talk like... Well, I see you're a different kind of close. But does him being around help?"

"Yeah. Even though I don't really know how to talk serious with him, I do know he'd do anything for me. Sure he might break his ribs in the process, but that's part of the charm."

"What was it like, having Joker as a roommate?"

"Absolutely insane. Picture how sarcastic he is now, but buried in an exhausting zeal for flying Alliance ships. I would wake up at 4 am, at least once a week, to him training or studying, even when he was piss drunk like tonight. My favorite time was when, totally plastered, Joker woke up my mother to try to give him access to the flying sims because he "needed to be prepared in any scenario". She let him, but then she also started making him do oddball scenarios for "just in case". And trust me, nothing is as terrifying and funny like Joker flying a ship and getting perfect marks while completely naked."

Even though Garrus didn't have a drink, he looked about ready to spit one out. His eyes darted back and forth from the passed-out drunkard on her bed to Anya. "He did that?"

"Yeah. Any dare mom threw at him, he did every single one. He and my mom were always just trying to one-up each other, but neither of them would ever fucking budge. I don't think I ever laughed so much in my life, seeing them prank and push each other to the edge. But he did convince me to join the Alliance, so what do I know, he's clearly more than just a good laugh."

"What did convince you? I don't think I ever knew you didn't want to be a soldier."

Anya shrugged, knowing this was weird waters of her past. "I don't exactly advertise it, not when I ended up the first human Spectre. Don't think people would love knowing it wasn't my childhood dream. I just wanted something different. I didn't know what, but I think I just didn't want to be my mom. I think seeing someone like Joker still excel in the Alliance made me think that maybe there was a place for me. I mean, hell, guy wanted to pilot while drunk and they still loved him."

Garrus pressed his talon to his temple and chuckled under his breath. He could barely believe it, she could tell, but she didn't blame him. Sometimes she could barely believe her academy days with Joker, either. But then his bright blue eyes flicked up and her whole body was frozen still under his gaze. "It's nice to hear you have history. And not just military history." Then his arm extended towards her and she knew she was holding her breath, which she shouldn't, but he just poked the soft flesh of her wrist. "I told you that you were just a squishy human."

"Oh, and you aren't squishy? You practically begged to help me talk out my feelings."

"You're definitely squishier."

Anya was more than ready to play the verbal sparring game with him; honestly, it was nice. She hadn't done much... fun in awhile.

With a smirk and proper snark, Anya countered, "I don't know. When you get uppity about temperatures..."

"That's a biological thing. What about you and that childhood cat you talk about? You get all wistful."

"Crackers was a very special boy, but at least he was a living being. I've definitely caught you sleeping with your sniper rifle, and you got pretty upset when it got a scratch a month ago."

Garrus cut his eyes, and looked ready to start throwing some real shots at her. Anya leaned into her knees and was ready. This fight was on. "You cried last movie night."

Okay, she didn't expect that one, and got aftershock emotion thinking of Saving Private Ryan. With such a backstab frying her system, she gave a weak ass rebuttal. "No I did not!"

"So that tear I saw was what? Space rain?"

Anya was grasping for straws. "It was a very dramatic, emotional final scene. You probably were so caught up in it that you imagined me crying, because that would be an acceptable response. If I did cry, which I didn't."

"Now you're just lying to me."

"It's pretty squishy of you to be getting so bothered by if I cried during a movie or not."

Garrus glared at her, looking like he wasn't sure if he wanted to continue. Anya was pretty sure she just gave the most annoying, pre-teen answer she ever could. But was it annoying enough to get him to back off before she managed to get even more annoying? Finally, Garrus said, "You're impossible."

Anya didn't mean to smile so wide at him, which only seemed to annoy him more.

After all that, she tried to soothe his ego a little and nudged his shoulder with hers. "Only because every dumb thing I do with you turns me into a shameless goofball. I still can't believe I danced with you."

The genuine smile on his face was not what she expected. "Yeah. That was nicer than I expected."

It was a little too nice. She felt her insides warming up, and her heart pumping a little fast, thinking of how close they were, and even how close they were a few minutes ago, before Joker came in. Maybe they were about to--

Nope, Anya had to diffuse that train of thought and fast. She jeered, "Well, you thought it was a sex ritual, so--"

"Will you ever let that go?" Garrus crossed his arms.

Good. Back to best-friend banter, as things should be.

"Never."

There was a long pause after that. They sat right next to each other and the air got still again, like there was something charging up. It started to make Anya's skin itch. But then Garrus leaned back into the couch and asked her, like it was simple, "So, how are you feeling?"

She stared into her hands and tried honesty. "Still a little raw. It's going to take a while for it not to hurt so much. But it's better. You helped make it better."

"I'm happy I could."

That's when she looked up at him, trying to be her white knight of emotional trauma. Sure, she was a fucking mess, but he had scars, too. And she wasn't just going to let him lean back there and bottle anything up, either. She put her hand on his knee and tried to show him how serious she was. "Are you doing okay? Sure, I'm the Commander, but Ash was your teammate, too. And I did make some tough calls."

He almost looked like he was about to crack a joke, but then he sighed and leaned forward, closer to her. Garrus said, "As fine as one can be before a war. I wasn't close to Ash, because she was kinda squeamish about the whole turian thing, but she was getting better at the end. It would've been nice to get to know her. It does make me feel like I need to do more to help the galaxy, now that Saren's gone. I need to be more than just a rogue C-Sec officer." With them both leaning on their knees, he turned his face and they locked eyes. He looked so vulnerable and honest, things she admired so much in him. At least, because that's how he was with her. "Thanks for asking, Shepard."

So the least she could do was keep herself honest for him, too, when it came to the important stuff. Anya smiled at him and said, "If you're willing to carry my emotional baggage, I can be here for yours."

She didn't mean to do this, but again they were close, and again she remembered that maybe he could be something more than a friend. And they weren't leaning in or anything, but looking at his face in her room, just being there for each other? It just meant so much. She didn't want him to ever leave her side, friendship or not.

But just as she was about to say something dumb and sentimental, Joker sat up and walked over to her bathroom and started puking. The mood, whatever it was, was definitely killed. With a grimace, they both stood up and Anya said, "I should probably take care of that."

"And I'd probably just get in the way. Call it a night?"

"Calling it. But it was a good one." Then they heard another gag and stream of vomit into her toilet. Patting Garrus' shoulder, Anya couldn't say out loud how much she didn't want him to leave. If she didn't know any better, he was lingering, too. But maybe he was just concerned about how'd she do, post-funeral and taking care of Joker. So she reassured him, "I can take care of us and I'll be okay. It's practically muscle memory at this point."

He laughed while he walked out of her door. "Alright. Goodnight, Shepard."

"Goodnight, Garrus."

From the bathroom, Joker yelled, "Night, Garrus!"

"Night, Joker." In the doorway, they looked at each other, and Anya almost wanted to say it. Just ask him to come back in, give him a datapad game to play, they could spend more time together once Joker would stop puking. Anything. She just wanted him to stay. But instead, Garrus gave her a flimsy salute and said, "See you tomorrow."

And she let the door shut behind him.

Anya walked back into her bathroom and took Joker's hat off so it wouldn't fall into any of his alcohol overdose. While it was nowhere near poisoning, Joker clearly drank more than he should.

She sat down next to him and waited on standby for any emergencies. In a moment of clarity, he turned his face to look at her, all groggy. "You and Garrus a thing?" Before she could set him straight, he started laughing and shook his own head. "What would you guys do with all those ass sticks? That's too many sticks, Anya. Also, you bruise easy and he's a walking hawk dinosaur. Nah, that'd be silly."

Right. It would be silly.

Interspecies awkwardness, or something.

That didn't stop her from thinking about how every time she was with him, things felt right.

She grabbed a water bottle from under the sink (preparation for this eventuality) and handed it to him. "Drink up. We don't need our pilot hungover."

"I could do it."

"I know you could. But I still prefer you sober."

"Fair enough."

And so she helped her pilot get his shit together, because it was the least she could do when she was still struggling to figure out hers.

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