So I figured I might as well... Uh. Chose control.

I'm not sure if this is depressing or happy, and it sure isn't cleaned up near as much as it could be.
Years since she vanished. It wasn’t hard, as far as that goes. Hackett heard the last from her, and then the Catalyst fired and the reapers just left. Who it was hard on was her friends as they limped back into Sol. It was hard to rebuild, working from the ground up. And it was damn hard to work without the relays. FTL research was in vogue again, every second it shaved off transit time precious.
EDI and the geth obsessed over it and quantum entanglement. They linked, they processed, they studied. When they weren’t dealing with the problems faced by organics. First problem was doubling the production of the liveships. From there, it became a problem of establishing supply lines, medical care, all the minor emergencies of everyday living magnified by distance.
The Citadel remained in the sky, a hulking ghost hovering over Earth. The Normandy’s heroic drunken crawl back to Earth had made a parade and some news, but that was over a year ago. Rumors surfaced -- the Citadel looked just like it had before the Reapers, as though it was a new Titanic, orbiting with solemn corpse-grace. It turned its arms to the sun, and it hummed with empty, derelict activity, following a routine with no one to appreciate its splendor.
Garrus watched it, frequently, as he dealt with survivors and cleanup, wounds and triage, brutal calculus and burials on ground sick with too many corpses. Somewhere up there, the bravest, toughest, meanest woman he’d ever known had died. She’d died alone, as far as he knew. He didn’t know how, or where, or even when exactly. She’d promised him she’d try to come back, and all she’d left was a spare shotgun and a garbled last message to Hackett. He cleaned the gun, now and again, just in case.
It wasn’t hard to remember her. She’d gone into most things fists and face first, gun blazing. She’d been a spectre first and last, always on the Council’s leash on one way or another. That’s what she aspired to. It was probably what she’d died doing. The last anyone had heard from her was “What do you need me to do?” And then she’d gone.
There was talk of going up to the Citadel. Seeing what was left. It’d been avoided since just after the end of the war. No life signs, beyond the omnipresent keepers. Spirits knew there was enough to scavenge and salvage on the ground. He thought about making the long flight home to Palaven now and again. It wouldn’t be a bad trip, especially if he went in cryo, but somehow he wasn’t ready to leave. He talked with home, and for now, that’d do. Slow travel, instant communication. It made for an interesting galaxy. And he’d been learning to use a hammer.
Time wore on. People returned to the Citadel. It had been cleaned from top to bottom, as perfect as it’d ever been. Ads were still playing. Kasumi and Kolyat told him the only odd thing was the station’s VI network had a tendency to hiccup around them, playing strange advertisements or taking them to the wrong floor. Thane’s boy had grown up, a lot. In some ways, he was much like his father -- thoughtful, quiet, and kind in a hard-edged way Garrus found easy to appreciate. Kolyat said the advertisements frequently referred to him as “Thane’ or “Krios”. It seemed to trouble him. Kasumi mentioned they played the segment when she’d first introduced herself to Shepard more often then not. The whole thing.
EDI was fascinated. She frequently hooked herself up to the station VI network. She didn’t say much about what she’d found. The turian found himself looking towards the Citadel more and more. He wasn’t sure he could face it. A lot of places on the Citadel were tied with memories -- not just Shepard, but all the people who were long since gone or changed. It felt like he was the only one who’d stayed. Even Tali’d grown distant, busy with her duties as Admiral. The flotilla has split, and most of the quarians, including Tali, were making the long trek back to Rannoch. Years of travel waited for them. It didn’t sound like she regretted it.
He was used to being alone, watching the sky. Sometimes Jack stopped by. She didn’t have much to say, but that was all right. He didn’t have much talking to do. And one day, Garrus finally went up to the Citadel. It hadn’t changed, except that it was much emptier than he remembered. Even the ads seemed to date back to before the reapers hit. It was a time capsule, and that made it one hell of a punch in the gut.
The geth and rachni seemed the most visible occupants in the almost empty city. Moving everywhere, testing, disassembling. He knew they were taking bits apart, finding out what’d actually happened. He wondered absently where Shepard had finally fell, what’d taken her down or if she’d just bled out, alone. That wound, he’d picked over until it scarred.
He walked through the streets, half caught up in the past. The whole damn place was like walking in a ghost. His instincts nagged at him steadily. Eventually, he figured out what was bothering him. It was a keeper, of all things, following him. Once he noticed that, he noticed other things. The advertisement holos went silent. There was a sense of something watching. And the keeper kept getting closer.
He kept going until he found a good view, overlooking the Wards. The keeper approached, then stopped next to him. It looked out over the view, too. One ad flashed on behind him. Something about the Archangel vid series. Total crap, but it’d amused him. Pity he’d never seen it. The panel next to him activated. Avina. She flickered, the old VI twitching and jumping.
The voice activated. Same old soothing, mechanical voice that the Citadel‘s tour guide had annoyed generations of visitors with. The words made him stare, though. “Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly.” A long pause. “Of course, so was I, even before I got spaced.” He stood up, mandibles spreading. It repeated, twice more, then Avina shut down. He looked back at the keeper.
After a moment, Garrus chuckled. “Another damned mystery.” Felt good to laugh. Spirits knew he didn’t do it enough these days.