Life Shall Go For Life, Chapter 2: An Eye For An Eye
Over a decade later, Laoise Shepard still finds herself grappling with her past. Can she let go long enough to help Garrus come to terms with his?
Flashing lights. Sprinkler water splashing off stacks of cargo bins with inventory no one will miss. An abandoned warehouse in West Philly. One two three four five six shots.
"Harkin's a bloody menace." Garrus's disgruntled tone wrenched Laoise Shepard out of her memories and back into their dismal reality. The two sat in a rapid-transit taxi parked in front of the Orbital Lounge, the bar where Harkin, former C-Sec officer and now fence for criminals evading detection, promised their target could be found. "We shouldn't have just let him go. He deserved to be punished."
The commander sighed deeply before responding. She was grateful it was just the two of them: they had been bickering all day about his hunger for revenge, her attempting to appeal to his better, gentler nature, him to her rigid sense of justice. "I'm getting a little worried about you, Garrus. You were pretty hard on Harkin." Her thoughts went back to the Citadel’s factory district and the dark look that crossed her partner's face as he leveled his gun at Harkin's kneecaps. Even though Laoise prevented him from landing the shot, it didn't stop him from bashing his solid turian forehead against the lowlife's tender human one, leaving him collapsed on the floor in a sniveling heap.
"You don't think he deserved it?" Fair question – she half-wondered if he picked up the headbutt from her own attempts at krogan diplomacy.
"It's just not like you."
The turian turned to avoid her gaze, but she still felt him tense up at her concerns. "What do you want from me, Shepard? What would you do if someone betrayed you?" He practically begged her for an answer.
One two three four five six shots.
"I…" She hesitated. "I know better than you think. And it hasn't changed me." A lie.
Garrus scoffed at her vague dismissal. "I would've said the same thing before it happened to me. Well, I’m glad you have such steely resolve, Shep.”
His usual nickname for her dripped with apparent vitriol. She fought to keep her breathing steady and calm; his walls were already up, and she didn't want to make things worse. Neither of them enjoyed verbal disagreements – sparring was their preferred way to resolve disputes – but there wasn’t much room for throwing punches in the front seat of the cab. There was no avoiding the difficult conversation, no physicality to hide her emotional investment in the situation.
"It's not too late. You don't have to go through with this." Shepard's voice cracked despite her efforts. By the pointed look Garrus gave her when he whipped around to face her once more, he either didn't notice or didn't care.
"Who's going to bring Sidonis to justice if I don't?" His question was loud, frantic. "Nobody else knows what he's done. Nobody else cares." When his eyes met hers, he turned away again, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't see any other options."
One two three four five six Reds. Faces floating in a pool of dirty, bloody water.
Shepard felt a familiar pain deep in her gut. Garrus's appeals read like her own journal entries, but with no Alliance-issued therapist thumbing through his past like a fascinating gossip magazine asking him prying questions about it. She shuddered at the memories but held her tongue – now wasn't the time.
"Let me talk to him." Yeah, that had worked out so well for her before.
It was like the turian read her mind. He let out a dry cackle in response to her offer. "Talk all you want. It won't change my mind. I don't care what his reasons were, he screwed us. He deserves to die."
"I understand what you're going through – but do you really want to kill him?"
"I appreciate your concern. But I'm not you."
"This isn't you, either." Laoise insisted, hoping to break through to Garrus. Instead, he gave her a stunned look.
"Really?" he asked wryly, "I've always hated injustice. The thought that Sidonis could get away with this… why should he go on living while ten good men lie in unmarked graves?"
One two three four five six unmarked graves in an unseen corner in Philadelphia.