Epilogue- Sidonis

"Tell me you didn't do it? Tell me you didn't kill an innocent child just to destroy her father?"

I await his answer. On this one question, this one simple inquiry, my entire future in regards to Garrus Vakarian hangs in the balance. The memories flash by almost instantaneously, triggered by his small nuances that are almost as familiar as my own.

He intakes a breath: Running in formation, leading the group, when suddenly I hear, "Move up, Vakarian." My breathing is matched, then we both increase our pace, as the swampy ground beneath us absorbs all but the muted thud of our bare claws. "Sound off!" the instructor yells. In unison, our voices cry, "Kurat!" in a moment of brotherhood.

He wears her markings: "Lantar Sidonis, meet Mishta Vakarian, resident jewel of our clan." She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and yet ducks her head at the praise. I bow over her hand, wondering at the shy presence behind so much radiance. "Pleased to make your acquaintance…" I finally say, and am rewarded with a giggle. At that moment, I know that no matter what the cost, she will be mine one day.

His hand moves minutely: Aboard ship, the cards snick as I watch my opponents. The four of us have a week's wages riding on this hand, and I'm confident until I see Garrus's trigger finger twitch. Without hesitation, I fold, a sentiment echoed by my two compatriots. Mandibles flaring evilly, Garrus reveals a flop hand, and Jerlah glares as he collects his credits. The scout is not likely to forgive his trickery any time soon.

His favorite band in the background: "Vakarian," I say, "I need to talk to you." He sits up on his bunk, removing the earpiece that then fills the room with steady golah rythms. Tapping his omni-tool, he turns off the music to give me his full attention. "What is it, brother?" he asks. Snickering slightly at his choice of words, I reply, "It's about Mishta. I know I'm supposed to ask Gallus first, but…" He jumps up, embracing me, all the while saying, "If she says yes, I'll be the happiest man alive."

His muscles flex: I yell with the rest of the crowd, watching as Garrus and Jerlah circle each other. She's shorter, but uses it to her advantage as she constantly evades his grasp. After nine straight rounds, a draw is called, and no one is surprised when they both head in the direction of his quarters. "Lucky bastard, she doesn't give that level of respect to anyone."

His arms tense:"You're almost there, my love. Just a little more!" But with the last gasp that should have delivered my son, the life goes from Mishta, a freak accident even the doctors later can't explain. I throw myself over her, only to feel strong talons pull me away so they can try to save her. The monitor is silent, doubly so, and nothing but her face registers until Garrus turns me to face him. "She's gone, Lantar. She's gone." I allow him to embrace me, crying into the only shoulder I ever would have dared to, the one time in my life I've shed a tear for any reason. And her brother is my keeper, the rock that keeps me grounded in sanity despite his own pain and loss.

The dull sheen of his armor: His voice rings above the music and crowd, a reminder of times of happiness and sorrow, but I've never seen him like this. He's drunk, and hurting, talons clenched around a shot glass in agony. I'd seen him on the vids, ever flanking that human Spectre that everyone was talking about, as if he were her shadow. I know him. Hero worship is not in his arrogant nature; but it was always on his face when he looked at her. I can't believe it's coincidence he's here after so many years, "Garrus Vakarian? No fucking way…"

The images leave me at his refusal to deny the act; is all the proof I need. He wouldn't admit he'd killed that child… my little boy…

As I walk out the door, I contemplate Garm's previous offer. Garrus has become that which he abhors, is emulating Saren, who was nothing but a monster killing for his own ends. And I'm the only one who knows, who can stop this before it begins.

Even in retrospect, even I'm not sure why it was his life I chose to spare, and not the lives of the comrades I'd shared my last two years with. Maybe so Mishta's Spirit wouldn't have me. Maybe as a way of living with myself.

Or maybe, just maybe, as a way of making sure that one day I wouldn't have to.

A/N: So, it's not over. The story will pick up upon the completion of Partners, Comrades, Friends with E Tenebrae Et Lux, which will continue Garrus and Teandra's story. I'm also planning a series of one-shot vingettes from the point of views of Garrus's fallen team, called Only a Moment.

Thanks go to my awesome Coauthor, LunaMax1214, and to my critic, The Outlander, for making this story happen.