"It was different, that time," Shepard says, more to force the thought out of her head, to get away from the double-suckerpunch of Alchera and— "Aratoht."

It's not much, but it's some kind of an explanantion, at least; Garrus deserves that much, to be kept in the loop if nothing else. He's taking it about as calmly as anyone could, but Shepard would have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to see how freaked out he is. In his place she'd want information, to know anything, everything, about the situation.

Honestly, she's lucky that he's been with her through so much. It doesn't take a long explanation of details to contextualize the horrible, debilitating nature of it. He wasn't there, on that mission, but he was there, afterwards. He was there.

"Hell if I know," She says, finally. There has to be some kind of connection, some trigger, some kind of... something. Her mind feels like it's wading through mud, hip-deep and heavy. Shepard knows there's an answer in this, but she keeps going back to the black sky, the sucking cold, and the ticking countdown, "Help— help me up. We're not gonna keep doing this on the floor. Find a cot or something."