theroguesniper:
He hovered at the door to her quarters, wondering if he should just turn around and go grieve elsewhere. But where else was he to go? Everything reminded him of her. Her smell hung on the battery like the sweetest of perfumes, lingering not only on his sheets, his pillows, his damned clothes, but also on his tools, on the mod table and the console. The Mess was filled with the smell of coffee, the kind she thought was absolute crap.The kind she had poured down the drain and replaced with a full pot of tea because it was better anyway, and if anyone wanted coffee then they would have to deal and make a fresh batch. If that could be coffee anyway. Bottles of the worst Omega had to offer and the best they could find in Illium filled the liquor cabinet in the lounge. He had asked her why, exactly, she kept consuming that piss-poor excuse for alcohol they served in Aria’s domain once; she had said it was the only kind that could really kick you in the balls. She had been right, of course. He should have known better, having spent two years on the space station himself. Everywhere he looked there was her, her smell, her smile, her insults and curses and that particular brand of crazy he had always loved. And now he hung at the door to the one place that was sacred to her, asking himself if he should knock or just let himself in. Wondering what he would be met with. Wondering if his expectations would be met or if he would just run into another wall, salt rubbed on the wound. Gone. She was damned gone and he hadn’t been there at her six. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. The door swished open as he came to the conclusion that he didn’t want to know, that he wasn’t ready yet, that he couldn’t face reality. That he couldn’t face her. And now here she was, standing right in front of him, a smirk slapped on her face and ready to make a joke as his mandibles snapped tight to his face in clear distress. "…Garrus?" He knew she knew he’d been hovering out there for ages. What she didn’t know was why. "Sh-Shepard! I, uh… I was… leaving. Right." The strangled words resonated in the small space, bouncing off the metalwork as the smirk slid from her face, replaced with concern. "Garrus, what–" She was interrupted by a low, keening noise. His own nature had betrayed him, the knot in his throat producing notes that rang of deep sorrow and pain. "She’s… gone, Shepard. Kai, she– Spirits, she’s gone…" And it was all he could do to sink into the bulkhead, hoping against hope that this was a nightmare, that his lover hadn’t died. That the person Shepard had once called a sister was lost to them both, this time forever.
[[Fuck you so much.]]
