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The door to Normandy’s docking bay opened with a hiss, giving way to the man who had eluded her ever since one hell of an awkward elevator ride with the Council.
Arms crossed, Kaidan leaned against the glass surrounding the bay’s front side. Beyond Normandy’s massive bulkhead, smoke still billowed across the horizon. He straightened upon her entrance, as though surprised. “Shepard…”
Her breath hitched at the ragged edges of her name uttered. With him, it was always so much more than just that. And the low timbre of longing, regret and awe all jumbled together in one word settled deep into her bones. It froze her in place. The warmth of his gaze wrapped around her as the moment stretched in stasis, caught in an immovable in-between of time.
No longer cold nor distrusting like hours ago through the crosshair of his pistol, but open he regarded her. Tender, even. Though a hint of confusion also mixed into his gaze the longer she stood there rooted in place, at a loss for words. Dammit. She should – but what was there to say? She’d nearly lost him. Again. After Alchera, after Horizon, after Mars, three years and a thousand times over. Would they ever stop colliding on opposite sites, drifting apart? Too many near misses, too many chances wasted already, with fate grinning its sardonic smile.
Shepard broke out of the impasse and charged forward with a force otherwise reserved for battle. She grabbed his collar and yanked him down to kiss him so hard their teeth clicked together. Kaidan’s whole body stiffened at her impulse and initiative, hopefully not an unwelcome one. And at first, his arms remained crossed before they slowly, ever so slightly, fell down at his sides with a shuddered sigh that rivaled her name prior uttered. A good sign, then. Shepard stepped closer still, pressed him against the glass as she deepened the kiss. No longer passive, he gave as much as he took and groaned into her mouth as her tongue tentatively met his. His fingertips brushed along the sides of her waist, holding on there and her in place, close.
And while there were no words, there was this. The warmth and soft of his mouth; a familiarity burned into her, never forgotten. Another moment spent in between but together, with seeking lips, mingling breaths and the faint promise of home. Comfort too, because he’d always been a reminder of her own humanity when everyone else only saw the symbol. The role she’d now reprised, fighting this war, after being almost court-martialed for doing so.
God, she’d missed him.
Static crackled loud in her ears as she broke apart from him, needing air, at last. Ah, the coalescence of both of their dark energies. How very symbolic. She gave the thought allowance for amusement while reopening her eyes and catching her breath. Kaidan struggled even more with the latter and panted as if having just run a marathon across planets. His eyelids fluttered as though reawakening from a daze and he found his voice, still husky. Well, it suited his gloriously flushed cheeks and red-kissed lips, honestly.
“I see you haven’t lost your tendency to impulsively kiss me...”
Ah, fuck. This reminder of Horizon and on the Citadel, of the last kiss shared between them until… this one was like a bucket of ice-water poured over her. Shepard drew away, straightened and drove a hand through her face. Him being a reminder of her own humanity also meant he was her biggest weakness. He could shatter her veil of professionalism and careful demeanor uphold with frightening ease. “Sorry...maybe I shouldn’t ha – ”
He rushed to acquiesce her with a subtle quirk of his lips. “Hey, I am not complaining...”
“It’s just…” Shepard started but words failed her, remained lodged in her throat.
“Yeah,,,” he breathed, all humor replaced by a pained frown. He took her hand, raised it to his chest to hold it there. He was always so warm, a sun in the darkness of everyday. “It’s not often you have an armed standoff with someone you love.” Kaidan brushed his lips against her wrist, lingering for a beat or two at her pulse point, before releasing her hand again. It still tingled with his touch.
Someone you love. Ah. Her mind honed in on his phrasing in a fuzzy half-daze. No longer past tense, like he had been using it for far too long. A point he deliberately made here, at that. It was… nice, more than that. However the awareness of this fact did not magically clear up all hurtful words hurled at her on Mars, nor his unceasing distrust of her motives and person.
It was another start though, a continuation of the hospital visits and talks, in person and mail before Udina rekindled Kaidan’s doubts, bit by bit. Fucking Udina, alone for that she’d have shot him. But it had been Kaidan’s mess – task – to clean up and uphold; as Spectre, as the person assigned to protect the Council. Even against her. He simply did his duty and yet, it was like running up against a wall, losing her footholds over and over again. Having to claw her way up its surface until her fingers were raw and bleeding only to land right back where she started was beyond exhausting and frustrating. She couldn’t do this anymore, was stretched too thin with a galaxy-wide war requiring already too much –
“Shepard?” Kaidan ducked his head to seek her gaze and he came back into her focus. “Nora?” he tried anew in a quiet whisper, like a prayer and secret indulgence alike. Damn him. No one has called her that in between the aeon of lying intertwined with him in bed, victory-drunk after Saren’s defeat, and awakening back on a station under attack with the remembrance of death, of suffocating etched into her mind. Her mother did, in a tearful call a couple months after that, before vanishing into her own life with the Alliance again, without further contact.
Glad you are alive, Nora, but you are with Cerberus...
Alas, there was a known pattern here regarding the very few selected people being on first name basis with her. “I never want to do this again,” she managed at last, in a near croak so uncharacteristic of the otherwise unflinching Commander Shepard. But he’d invoked Nora in using her name, and it left her bare, brittle. “I can’t.”
“You won’t have to,” he said with the conviction that could move mountains. Too good to be true, almost. She yearned nothing more for it to be this way, to trust in his steadfastness, to love him without the fear of it not being enough. Because god and spirits, she loved him. No past tense here, but a continuous state of her being for years only months to her. This was why he wielded such power with each word and act, capable of unraveling her more than any enemy met on the field.
Shepard shifted and inhaled to regain control over herself, her emotions. The ramifications of the coup, of how it went down could be dealt with later, not now. If there was a later, at all. Best to ensure it, then. “You always have been a good man, Kaidan. One who embodies conviction and integrity, so I knew you would see the truth and come around.”
Ugh. It rang too close to one of her silver-tonged lies spun for diplomacy, despite meaning every word. Appeasement was reserved for all the people in power who needed to be babysit into the right decision through persuasion more often than not. Not him. But that would require energy for another confrontation with him, and she was tired of this uphill battle. Too drained by the engulfing death and destruction despite her best efforts to mitigate its effects to also chase after him. Let him come to her, for once. Just once. Please. It was all she’d ask of him, if he truly meant his words.
His grimace told her he noticed her way of phrasing it too. Kaidan leaned back and crossed his arms again. Great, the embodiment of distance. “And what if I didn’t?” he challenged, more contemplating than with any malice or reproach behind his question. It was his usual way of working through problems at hand, even if it grated at her that he considered it a possibility at all. For all Udina had worm-tongued Kaidan’s mind in her absence, it unfortunately had been one, however small. And that was the most infuriating, saddened part of it all for her. “I feel you would have taken me out.”
What? The heart seized in her chest and for a moment there was no air, as if it gotten pressurized out of the docking bay. No. Not a second Virmire, Alchera, the Alpha Relay or one of the many other places poised to rip and keep them apart, in death or otherwise. Yes, shoot to kill under threat for her life was ingrained into her fibers ever since Alliance basics on Luna decades ago… but shoot him? Fuck. No. Shepard would have tried a thousand other things first to get through to him, before reverting to the last resort of a bullet. Fate would surely have loved that piece of ironic tragedy though, that voyeuristic son of a bitch. “No. That is why I lowered my weapon at the first possible chance.” Unlike you. Dammit.
Gun drawn on a councilor? Kinda looks bad, Shepard.
“And you?” It was only fair to pose the same question to him. “Would you have shot me?” she probed, and the barbed words fled her faster than she could stop them. “You know, my suit’s shield battery was fried and I burned through my biotics pretty hard on the race to the top. So it would have taken you one bullet to ensure I stay dead this time.”
His eyes squeezed shut, and he staggered as if hit by her biotic charge instead of words. She might as well have done that, with a Nova punch completing it all. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fueled by ire burning low in her stomach, she went way too far. They had to stop doing this. Picking at old scars, tugging at barely healed wounds until they bled again. Or there would be never anything beyond that. “Kaidan… I –”
“Wow, really? You are going there?” Kaidan swallowed thickly, struggling for control and failing. The hurt was written so plainly into his features it would be still visible from another solar system. “You know exactly how much losing you tore me apart.” His jaw worked before setting into a hard line, as did his eyes upon her. “You are angry with me, I get that. For a good reason too, I suppose. But that was a low blow, Shepard.”
“I don’t know why I said that. It went way too far. “ She reached for his hand, balled to a fist at his side. “I’m sorry.” The tension left him in a long exhale and his fist unfurled to allow his hand to be taken by her. Shepard drew circles with her thumb into its backside as a by way apology. “The important thing is the coup has failed and Cerberus is off the Citadel.”
“Yeah,” Kaidan agreed but his brows were furrowed in the way they did when he was mulling something over. Comforting how some things did not change, at least. “And Udina?”
Dead in the proverbial ditch, as he should be. “What about him?” Shepard asked aloud instead.
“Had he been working with Cerberus all along, scheming in using me to take you out, knowing we were–“ His voice cracked and he licked his lips, glancing away. The silence ensuing between them stretched further.
Mechanics and engineers scurried around down at the docking bay, far-off at the other side of the window panel. Routine inspections, refueling. There was always something to do and fix once the Normandy was back in Citadel’s dock, even or especially after a failed coup. Of course the technical details of it were always more complicated in the reports handed to her, but it might as well be Hamlet in Elcor to her understanding of it. Not her field of expertise by a long shot, so she left these matters to more capable hands within her crew.
Shaking herself out of these thoughts, Shepard focused back on him. “I don’t know…” If their standoff showed anything, it was how fragile their understanding still was, all talks in spite. Kaidan came around in the end, sure, but it took so little to rip his trust into her out of its tentative foundations as soon Cerberus was anywhere in the vicinity. Udina used that to his advantage and had nearly succeeded with it. “He had always been an opportunistic snake. And I think he was pretty desperate, given the Council’s lack of support for Earth in the war. Weeks ago, he told me he had some chips of goodwill to cash in to get help after all.” She scoffed. “I hadn’t expected he would reach into the bottom of a garbage bin for this, though.” In hindsight… it was all so obvious. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with the dire situation on Palaven back then, perhaps she could – should – have seen it coming, and put an end to it before it all – Damn. “Cerberus used his desperation fueled by the lack of aid given by others to forge an alliance.” Ire clawed its way up from her stomach into her throat, hot and bitter. “They are good in that.”
His eyes snapped up to hers, the implication not lost on him. Good. Means to an end, it had been to stop the Collectors when no one else would. But even almost a year later the foul taste of selling out all her values to team up with the enemy for a fighting chance hadn’t left her mouth. And it would linger as long the past could not be left behind with such lack of closure dwelling between them. They would need to talk about it all more extensively than they did in the hospital, or else there would be no a moving forward for them from this. Here was not the time, nor place, so it would be for the best to store it away for later, and swallow down the razor blades in her throat. “It was the Salarian Councilor who warned me about Udina.”
“Yeah, I remember you mentioning that on the rooftop.”
The razors settled in her lungs, making it hard to breathe. “And Thane.” Shit. Not here, not now. Get it together, compartmentalize. Shepard swallowed anew to clear her throat. “There was an assassin from Cerberus who tried to kill the Councilor. Had he succeeded, I don’t doubt Udina would have used his death to pin the assassination on me. So you would… or I would have–“ Her exhale was ragged, and she blinked faster to keep the tears at bay. “Y’know…”
“Son of a bitch.” Anger was a rare emotion within Kaidan’s expression as rare as it was him cursing someone out. He was careful in his judgment, would always try to observe all angles, to understand before doing so. Well, as long Cerberus and/or her wasn’t involved, of course. Hard to blame him for either though, as both, the anger and choice words, were well deserved and valid, in this case. And in many other, regarding Cerberus. They were as bad as he’d always taken them to be, worse even with the Illusive Prick’s insane delusions of gaining control over the Reapers. It was obviously the other way around, and this most likely for a long while already. “Makes me regret it less to have shot him.”
“You did the right thing, Kaidan,” Shepard said, forcing a smile. How long would the decontamination process take this time? She had to get away, be alone. Just for a moment before everything –
“What is it?” He perked up at the crack in her voice, the way her eyes lingered at Normandy’s entrance. Shit, there was no fooling him. “Nora, what happened?”
“Outside of… everything, you mean?” Her humor unsurprisingly fell flat beneath his worried gaze. “My friend, Thane… he was the one who prevented the assassination, and worse. But he got stabbed in the confrontation with this asshole and – “
Kaidan made another step toward her. “Is he… –“ Shepard blinked. Once, twice, thrice, faster. It did not help, so she pressed them shut. Anything to not cry. Not here, not now. “Oh…” he uttered, understood. Because of course he did.
She took measured breaths that grew more and more fragmented. Still enough to speak, though. Good. Shepard fixed a point past his face, or else she would fall to pieces. “I rushed to the hospital as soon as I could after the situation was under control. But he’d lost too much blood that could not be replaced due to his illness.” Her hands shook like her voice, and a tremor started to rock through her entire being. “I just came in time to say my goodbyes.”
“Nora… ” His fingers were warm as they curled over her own, in an effort to still their shaking, to soothe. It only made it worse. Another death, another friend lost to this war. Ashley, Mordin, Thane. All too many names on the memorial wall already. Billions more down on Earth and on all the other planets. Each day the destruction and deaths reached new catastrophic heights. How many would still follow despite her trying her best? It was clearly not good enough. Not by far or any means.
“All these deaths, Kaidan I can’t… I couldn’t –“ Thane’s prayer, his last ever words, were for her, asking for forgiveness for the lives she'd have to take and forsake. Goddammit. There was no stopping this anymore. Like a tidal wave, the sob rippled through her, pulling her undertow in a silent outcry. For half an eternity it robbed her of all air. She couldn’t breathe. Not unlike in the depth of space, right before – Her head too heavy with the weight of the whole galaxy on her shoulders dropped down, only to be stopped by the warm, broad solid of his chest. Calloused fingertips drew circles into the nape of her neck, while his other held her steady, upright at the small of her back as she cried, helpless against its crushing force. It was a much needed lifeline she clang to as to not be swept away or drown in her despair. “I’m sorry,” she managed in between stuttered sobs, after another long moment. “Shit, this is so embarrassing.”
“No, Nora, it is not.” Kaidan whispered and his breath tickled across her dampened cheek. “It is human. You are doing so much, more than any other single person could. Or hell, should, even.” His arms tightened around her, seeking comfort in proximity as much as he was giving it. “And I’m sorry to have added to your burden so much on top of everything. Today, I was so afraid –“ Stopping himself with a small shake of his head, he let go of her just enough to look at her. The sudden distance between both of their bodies left her cold, though it got mitigated by the warmth of his gaze. Gently, he wiped the tears from both corners of her eyes with his thumb. “I want you to know… I will never doubt you again.”
There it was, his step toward her, meeting her where it mattered. Shepard sniffled and swallowed to clear her throat. The dread in the pits of her stomach slowly got superseded by a fuzzy comfortableness, even as sadness lingered. It always would, like the pictures and nightmares ceaseless haunting her whenever she closed her eyes. But she wasn’t alone in this, hadn’t been before him with her whole crew and teammates around her. It was just he… made her believe this fact. She exhaled, released a breath stuck deep inside for a felt eternity, and straightened. “Thank you,” Shepard mouthed more than said, meaning way more than just his words. Hell, they could talk about their differences until the Reaper would descent upon them, if his actions would not match them, it was all for nothing. Here, they did. Tenfold.
Kaidan nodded with a slight smile and an understanding reached between them. Retreating, he gave her back her personal space. “There is something else, Shepard. The reason why I waited for you here in the first place.” He shifted on his feet, his fingers flexed to a fist and relaxed in rapid succession. A familiar tick and tell of nervousness he’d never gotten under control, then. How cute. “Hackett offered me a position on his team to aid the Crucible efforts, but I don’t want that. I would rather be on the ground and serve on the Normandy again… if you would have me.”
At your side remained unsaid yet rang so very clearly in her ears. Her heart skipped in her chest, sped up. This was not so much as another step but a whole leap of faith taken toward her, laying it all down into her hands. “Oh… I don’t know, Kaidan...” she started, keen on torturing him just a little bit despite her answer being the most obvious thing ever. Her mouth twitched, as unbidden as she was helpless against the mirth spreading inside. It gave her charade prematurely away, so she settled for humor instead. “But how could I ever say no to the chance of you serving under me again?”
He huffed out a laugh, bright and happy, tinged with no small amount of relief. Had he truly expected anything else? For her to send him away? Never. Even without the mountains and planets of complicated feelings for him, he was one hell of a soldier, one who was very experienced in battle. Strong and dependable with leadership qualities, too. And now the second human Spectre. There was only one correct answer here, really. He shook his head, still grinning. “Did you practice this one, Shepard?”
“Nope…” she breathed, mirroring his grin. “Been saving it for a long time now. I always hoped to be able to use it again on you, Alenko.”
“I don’t think stealing the Normandy will be necessary this time, ma’am,” he deadpanned, wrapping a low timbre around the title and turning it into something salacious.
“You never know…” Shepard paused, swallowing another flirtatious remark, opting for honesty instead. “Jokes aside, I could never imagine facing the Reapers without you, Kaidan.”
The breath caught audible in his throat and his grin shifted into a warm smile. “Me neither. I’ve got your back. Don’t worry.”
“Hopefully more than that, Major,” she replied, earning herself another chuckle. It was so easy and comfortable to fall back into a rhythm of banter with him, as if no time at all had passed between them. They were good together. Much better than apart. “Come, then.” Shepard motioned him forward to Normandy’s entrance, but stumbled more than walked. Her head spun, followed by a wave of nausea. The telltale sign of biotic burnout. Great.
“Easy…” He held her steady and perhaps a moment longer than necessary. Not that she minded, though. “When have you eaten something the last time?”
Ever the worrier. Snorting, Shepard blew a wayward strand of hair out of her face. Time to cut it to make it reg-friendly again. That was if she could still give a damn about it later on, of course. “I was planning to do so, you know, after a shower and a private cry, perhaps. Sadly I have only managed one of these things thus far, less privately.“
“Ah.” Together they stepped into Normandy’s decon chamber and its automated cycle. His hand still rested on the small of her back and only let go as they stood steady, waiting for its completion.
“I’m glad we talked,” Shepard rushed to say to ease any possible guilt for him to be had about that. After all, it had been her who started it all rather impulsively. “… And more.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Kaidan rummaged and produced an Alliance-standard biotic high energy bar from whatever pocket of his dress blues. He unwrapped it for her. “Here.”
“Hmm, strawberry flavored cardboard. You really know what my heart desires.”
“God knows I would love to buy you dinner, Shepard. Especially after this hell of a day, but …” He pointedly nodded toward the smoke clouds billowing just outside the chamber, down below. “I fear this kind of sanity check will have to wait, alas.”
“Sanity check, huh?” She took the bar from him with the attitude of the soldier she was, braving the worst. “You still have that whiskey bottle though, right?”
Kaidan chuckled, refrained from commenting on that. Spoilsport. “Eat.”
“Aw.” What was the point of torturing her with this tasteless brick? On the ground it was a different matter, but they would be aboard soon anyway, ready to grab that high calorie frozen lasagna with her name on it. If the damn decon cycle ever would complete, that was. “Is that the medic or biotic teacher in you speaking here?”
He tilted his head, his eyes upon her amused and tender. Huh. “How about the man who cares for you and your well-being a great deal?”
Ah shit. Her cheeks started to hurt as much and wide as she was grinning at that and the wave of warmth roiling through her like a goddamn sun of a planet. This time, without burning, without pain. Just euphoric goodness. Figures. The same way he could unravel her with words, he could also put her back together, stronger. “Fine.” Wrinkling her nose, she braved the bar with a hearty bite. “And because I love you…” she ventured, mouth still half full, “I can be persuaded to share my stash of candy bars with you.” She swallowed, made a face at the remaining bit in her hands. “Real ones. Not this shit.”
It was his turn to grin like a fool at the ground. Only fair. “Good to know.”
And because she was still riding on this euphoric high, Shepard took his hand to interlace it with her fingers. He gave her a surprised look, but did not let go. If anything, he took her hand toward him and pressed a kiss on its backside. “Holding hands with me right before entering the ship under your command? How brazen, Commander. What’s next? Seducing me in the middle of the CIC?”
“Don’t give me ideas...” Right, regs. They still existed and were technically valid but so far down her priority list among everything else happening that she was hard pressed to even give a damn. As long he would follow her command and keep PDA’s to a professional minimum of maybe one to ten per day they were in the clear. Crystal, even. And with Alenko, neither of both things had been a problem, ever. Not even when the ship burned and she ordered him to evac – “EDI, what is taking so damn long here?”
“Apologies, Shepard,” the A.I. chimed in over the outer comms. ”A thorough decontamination cycle is needed for the safety of yourself and your crew. Besides, you were showing signs of elevated heart rate and blood pressure, so I had to eliminate the possibility of a fever and/or infection. However, my conclusion is the condition is more due to present company than illness.“ She paused a beat. “Hello Major, I’m pleased to welcome you back aboard.”
“Hello EDI,” he said with a snort. “And thank you.”
“Well, can you speed it up? The galaxy doesn’t unfortunately save itself.”
“We are not due for departure until the scheduled routine inspections are done tomorrow at 1100,” EDI informed her, deliberated further. “But I can certainly do that, so you will be able to take care of your nutritional needs like the Major suggested, Shepard.” So she had listened in, because of course she did as the ship’s embodiment. It was so easy to forget this at times. Finally, the cycle stopped with an electronic chime and the door opened in a hiss to its long hallway.
“So eager to get away from me, are you?” Kaidan asked, not letting go of her hand, even as she stalked forward. She was promptly hauled back into his arms by him for a slow, soft kiss right on Normandy’s threshold. So much for being professionals about it, hah.
“Naaah. Never,” she replied a bit breathless and with quickened heartbeat and pulse a moment later. Then, Shepard straightened and pulled away with no small amount of regret. It was needed now, though. “It is so good to have you back, in fact. Welcome aboard, Major.”
Kaidan fixed her as a focal point in a ship that must be familiar yet so alien to him, and entered. He gave her a salute, a sign of respect and tacit understanding of the chain of command. “Thank you, Commander. It is good to be back.”