Work Text:
When I try to hear my voice it's gone
I'll ignore the raging war within my soul
To keep the peace of mind
- Arcadian Wild, “Oh, Sleeper”
—
Yelling. Running. Impact. Explosion.
Metal on metal, shearing, screaming.
Fire everywhere. Loud, too loud, have to focus, have to save—
Pain. Overwhelming, excruciating pain.
Weightlessness, like being gently carried.
Nothing.
Kaidan’s eyes fly open, heart racing, chest heaving. He looks around wildly, his fingers tightly clutching at the fabric of the blanket. He doesn’t recognize where he is, can’t see anything, can’t focus, can’t—
Breathe.
He squeezes his eyes shut and takes in a shaky breath. Lets it out. Takes in another, slowly, through his nostrils, like he was taught. Exhales again, hissing through his teeth—a snake, scaring away his fears.
She holds him, comfort in her arms. “It’s just a panic attack, Kaidan. You’re okay. Hiss it away, you can do it.” She kisses his forehead, like a mom’s supposed to. It feels better.
His heart slows down, his breathing more controlled. He opens his eyes.
He still doesn’t recognize where he is.
It’s like his room at the family cabin in the Interior back home, but
it’s on fire, everything’s on fire, he’s running, his parents are at home oh god his parents are still at home—
He squeezes his eyes back shut. The sense memory fades, as if it never existed.
Kaidan slowly opens his eyes, and tries again.
It’s his family’s cabin in the Interior, but…not. It’s like it should be, but it feels wrong. Like there’s something sliding out of place just in his periphery. Fuzzy, maybe? Indistinct. The details aren’t right when he really looks. No room at the cabin has this layout. And that dresser doesn’t seem to have any knobs on it. And that picture on the wall has a man he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a dark-haired woman standing in the corner.
“Hey, LT,” says the dark-haired woman standing in the corner.
Kaidan bolts out of the bed, arms wreathed in blue fire. “What the fuck?”
She snorts, leaning against the wall. “Been working on that reaction time, I see.”
“Who— How—“ His heart rate speeds up again, his biotic field writhing and unstable, it’s like there’s a fist around his throat that’s getting tighter and tighter
no, not my throat, my head, she’s crushing my head—
“Breathe,” says the dead woman in front of him.
He breathes.
“Again.”
He breathes again. And again.
For a few long moments, he stares at her as he wills the control back into his body. His heart rate’s under control. His breathing’s under control. His biotics are under control.
He’s in control.
“Always did like being in control, LT,” she smirks.
“I don’t understand,” Kaidan whispers.
She laughs. “Seriously? You don’t remember that time on Eletania when you got so frustrated that that monkey wouldn’t—“
“No,” he interrupts. “This…this isn’t real. It can’t be. You shouldn’t be here. You can’t be here.”
“Why not?” She raises an eyebrow.
“You’re dead.”
Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams shrugs. “Yeah.”
Kaidan looks wildly around the not-cabin. “You’re not real. This is a dream.”
Ashley shrugs again. “Maybe.”
“Maybe? What else could it—“
Kaidan cries out, falling to his knees and clutching his head as
pain, excruciating pain, metal fingers punching through his helmet making contact with flesh, the pressure unbearable, the pain—
“Breathe, LT, come on.”
The feeling of Ashley’s hand on his shoulder brings him out of it, steadies him, centers him. It is also incredibly, intensely confusing. He takes a few more deep breaths before roughly pushing himself to his feet, away from her.
He squares his shoulders and looks her in the eye. Never let it be said that Kaidan Alenko couldn’t face his end on his own two feet. “Am I dead?” he asks, gaze steady, no trace of a waver in his voice.
She shrugs a third time. “Maybe.“
“That the only answer you have?” Kaidan growls.
Ashley grins. “Maybe.”
“Ashley—“
“What’s the last thing you remember?” She pierces him with a hauntingly familiar look, one he hasn’t seen in more than two years, and it stops him in his tracks. Disorients him enough that he loses the anger, loses himself in the memory that comes, unbidden.
Yelling. Running.
“I was on…Mars. The Reapers took Earth, we were on Mars looking for—“
Impact. Explosion.
Kaidan’s brow furrows as he shakes his head. “Cerberus beat us there. They…took what we needed. What Liara needed. What Sh—“
Metal on metal, shearing, screaming.
He winces. “A…our shuttle crashed into the shuttle carrying the Cerberus operative.”
Fire everywhere. Loud, too loud, have to focus, have to save—
“I was helping Liara to safety, toward… and then, out of the shuttle wreckage, the Cerberus operative…I drew my sidearm, tried to stop her from running at…but she was a…” He clutches his head.
Pain. Overwhelming, excruciating pain.
He cries out, somehow keeping his feet as he presses his palms to his temples. “She— with one hand, she grabbed my helmet, held me up, I felt the metal denting, the pressure was too much—“
Weightlessness, like being gently carried.
“S— someone picked me up.” He steadies his breathing. “And then…”
Nothing.
Kaidan stares at the floor, eyes wide. “So I’m…dead, then.”
“Maybe,” Ashley says.
“Stop saying that!” he shouts at her, fear and frustration thick in his voice.
“Look, LT—“ She stops, giving a half-smile. “No, not LT anymore, are you? ‘Major’ sounds so formal, though, that’s not gonna work.” She clucks her tongue.
“What?” he says faintly, thrown off again.
She casually walks around the room, examining the various pieces of his not-life in the not-cabin. “‘LT’ was a cool nickname, common, made the distance between us a little easier to cross. I liked it. But ‘Major’ is just a…a title. Too big. Too heavy to be any fun.” She turns to look him up and down. “What about…Kade?”
“What?” he repeats. “No.”
“Mm, not a fan of ‘Kade.’ How about Kay?”
“Uh—“
“Oh, Denny!”
“Just,” he sighs, “just Kaidan, please.” He sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped.
“Aw, Kaidan,” Ashley says, sitting down next to him, arm lightly draped around his shoulders, “what’s wrong?”
He looks sidelong at her. “Well, I’m apparently dying, and the universe is punishing me by making my last moments as annoying as possible.”
She laughs, knocking gently into his side. “There’s the guy who once told me the floor of a Prothean ruin looked like bathroom tile.”
He huffs, knocking her back. “So you’re, what, the avatar of death come to weigh my heart against a feather or whatever?”
She laughs, long and loud. He’s missed that laugh. “What do you think?”
“You really don’t know how to answer a question, do you,” he grumps.
Her eyes glitter with mischief. “Well, you can take it one of two ways. Either I’m an angel sent to help you with unfinished business or some shit like that, in which case my job is to be as mysterious as possible,” she says, drawing out the vowels in mysterious with ethereal glee. “Or I’m the last gasps of the firing synapses of your dying brain, so everything I say is really just you talking to yourself.”
She grabs his hands and pulls him to his feet. “Either way, you’re the one with the answers here, not me.”
Kaidan chuckles in spite of himself, looking down at the not-cabin’s wooden floor. He doesn’t let go of her hands.
“But that begs the question, Kaidan,” she continues, her tone suddenly serious, “why do you think the universe would be punishing you?”
The wooden floor suddenly fades under Kaidan’s gaze, morphing into something more flat, less homey, but no less home. His eyes get wide as he looks up.
Yelling. Running.
Deckhands rush past, voices raised over wailing klaxons, the sudden cacophony jarring after the quiet of the cabin. He looks arounds wildly. “Ashley, what the hell? What’s happening?”
Ashley, for her part, continues looking only at him. “You tell me, Kaidan, it’s your memory. Where are we?”
His breathing quickens. “It’s…”
Impact. Explosion.
The deck rolls underneath them, throwing Kaidan to the floor. He pushes himself up to his knees, shaking not from the fall but from the fear that instinctively curdles in his stomach. “It’s the Normandy,” he says, voice suddenly hoarse.
He stands slowly, leaden feet finding purchase on the shaking deckplates, as the chaos continues to unfold around them. He’s replayed this scene so many times in his mind, in his nightmares, that he knows what’s going to happen.
He’s never been able to decide if replaying it is worse than not being able to change it.
“Hmm,” Ashley says, inspecting the chaos dispassionately, “ship’s a bit different than I remember. A lot more, you know, fire.”
Kaidan glares. “A lot of people died that day, Ash.”
They watch as Specialist Tanaka runs out of the medbay, Chakwas and Liara at his heels. Tanaka shoves them in the direction of the escape pods, turning to sprint towards the CIC.
“Not everyone,” she says, pointing after Chakwas and Liara.
He starts to retort, “Yeah, well, when you’ve relived it as many times as I have, it’s less—“
Metal on metal, shearing, screaming.
Kaidan’s cut off as a bulkhead explodes, pinning Tanaka to the ground, shrapnel protruding from his chest.
“Aw, not Tanaka,” Ashley says, kneeling down next to him. “He was one of the good ones, I liked him.” She grins up at Kaidan. “Did you know he had a makeshift still hidden behind the armory? Best bootleg whiskey I ever had.”
Kaidan can’t help but give a faint smile at the lightness in her tone, a bizarre contrast to the scene unfolding around them. “You know I’m the one who reported that, right?”
“Of course you did. Maybe I should be calling you ‘narc,’” she says, rolling her eyes. “So, what, the universe is punishing you because the Collectors took out the Normandy? How is that your fault?”
He blows out a breath. “That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
“I couldn’t save him,” Kaidan says quietly.
“Who, Tanaka?” Ashley responds, gesturing to the body at their feet.
Kaidan shakes his head as, in the memory, his younger self runs in, fully kitted out. The lieutenant briefly looks down at the trapped, still breathing Tanaka, but doesn’t stop, instead sprinting down the corridor toward the sleeping pods.
Fire everywhere.
They watch from a distance as his younger self finds Shepard, and Kaidan inhales reflexively. The flickering flames of their failing home cast wild shadows around the pair, a dark audience watching their every move.
But Kaidan remembers. For this single moment, they were alone.
“Shepard!” Kaidan shouts, snapping his helmet into place.
He hates this part of the nightmare. His voice in his memory is…shrill, tinny. So full of fear.
Shepard punches a final button on a console and turns around. “Distress beacon is ready for launch.”
Shepard’s, by contrast, is solid. Firm. Comman—
“I’m sorry, are you really wearing the Phoenix armor?”
Kaidan blinks. He’d completely forgotten for a moment that he’s not alone this time. “What?”
“Will the Alliance get here in time?” The deck shakes around them, but Shepard steadies Kaidan, keeping him on his feet.
Ashley continues walking around the briefly entwined pair, a keen eye on the younger Kaidan. “I mean, it’s not that you can’t pull off the pink-and-white,” she muses, hand on her chin thoughtfully, “it’s just that that was my thing, you know?”
Shepard knocks their helmets together. Even in the glinting firelight, Kaidan can see the steely determination in Shepard’s gaze. “The Alliance won’t abandon us. We just need to hold on.”
Kaidan stares at her in disbelief, brain twinging a bit as he tries to focus on both her and the memory. “Are you really critiquing my…fashion choices right now? Seriously? Are you trying to piss me off?”
Shepard’s fingers shift as if he’s giving Kaidan’s armor-clad forearm one last squeeze, then he gently pushes Kaidan toward the exit. “Get everyone onto the escape shuttles—“
She glances over at him. “I’m trying to get you out of your head, dumbass.” She gestures to the memory, continuing to circle it. “You said you’ve replayed this scene over and over, right? You don’t need to hear it one more time.”
Kaidan cuts him off with a shake of his head. “Joker’s still in the cockpit. He won’t abandon ship!” His voice drops, his gaze locked with Shepard’s. “I’m not leaving either.”
Ashley stops right in front of him, blocking his view of the conversation. “Why do you think the universe is punishing you for this?”
Shepard grins, like this is just another mission, like everything isn’t literally falling apart around them. “I need you to get the crew onto the evac shuttles. I’ll take care of Joker.”
The chaos is starting to get to Kaidan; it’s hard to concentrate both on the memory and on Ashley—but she’s right in front of him now, so he throws his hands wide in frustration at her. “Because I let him go!” he says. “I’m the one who told him Joker was still up there and—“
Shepard starts jogging away, leaving Kaidan behind. Kaidan shouts after him, “Commander!”
She looks at him sardonically. “You really think you could’ve stopped Shepard from going up there.”
Shepard looks back over his shoulder. “Keep going. Now.”
She points at Shepard as he disappears into the smoke and flames. “He’s literally ordering you to go. You’re such a rule-follower that you reported Tanaka’s bootleg still—which, guess what, everyone knew that—but you think that you, of all people, were really going to defy an order? In the middle of a crisis? Come on.”
Kaidan stares after him for a moment, heart racing. “Aye aye,” he says quietly, before carrying out Shepard’s order. Like a good soldier.
His younger self’s assent takes some of the wind out of his sails. Kaidan closes his eyes, breathing through his nose, trying to concentrate. “I’ve gone over this a million times in my head. There were so many other options. I could’ve gone with him—“
“If you go with him, who saves Tali? Adams?” As Ashley speaks, the flames swirl around them, the scene changing to show the younger Kaidan in Engineering, using his biotics to lift a fallen beam off of the Quarian and chief engineer.
Kaidan barely watches, instead searching the deckplates for answers. “Or I could’ve grabbed him, kept him with me, forced him into a pod—“
“And then Joker dies, and you probably get court-martialed.” She folds her arms. “You really think the universe is punishing you for saving lives?”
“Not every life,” he says quietly.
“Yeah, that’s war, Kaidan.” She gestures to herself. “You can’t save everyone.”
He grimaces, the guilt plain on his face. “I know, Ash, I’m sorry—“
“Not what I meant,” she says, exasperated. “You followed orders, went above and beyond to save people, and you still think the universe is punishing you over one person. Why?”
“Because…Shepard died.”
She snorts. “Yeah, but he got better.”
Kaidan winces and, unbidden, another memory fades into existence around them. Dark, blue-green sky. Cloudy. Pre-fab structures in a yellowed field. Ominously silent.
Ashley looks around. “Where are we now?”
“Horizon.” Kaidan spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue.
“And saying that Shepard got better triggered this memory because…”
Kaidan sighs. “Because this is the second time I failed Shepard.”
Ashley arches an eyebrow but says nothing.
Kaidan walks around the corner, out into the open. He’s been following the transponder, listening in on the comm channel. But seeing him in the flesh, arguing with Delan, is…jarring, to say the least.
“Jet-black armor, nice,” she says.
He pokes her with his elbow.
She smirks. “Still like the pink-and-white, though.”
“Oh, would you let that—“
“Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy, first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel,” Kaidan says as he walks up. He looks over at the glowering engineer. “You’re in the presence of a legend, Delan.” He turns to face Shepard, keeping his voice as steady as he can. “And a ghost.”
Ashley laughs. “Holy shit, Kaidan—what did you do for two years, rehearse with some nerd Shakespeare club?”
Kaidan gives her the stink eye. “I was trying to defuse the situation.”
“Yeah, don’t pretend you hadn’t been practicing that,” she retorts through her laughter.
Delan spits with disgust in Kaidan’s direction. “All the good people we lost and you get left behind. Figures.” He walks off, shouting over his shoulder, “Screw this, I’m done with you Alliance types.”
“Wow, that guy seems like a real dick,” Ashley says as Delan walks away.
Kaidan huffs. “Yeah, huge dick. Not quite the worst part of this posting, but close.”
“And the worst part was—“
“—losing a third of the colony to the Collectors.”
“Ah,” she says, nodding sagely.
Kaidan stares at Shepard for a long moment. And then, like his body’s moving independent of his brain, he walks forward and embraces him. Shepard’s stubble scrapes on his cheek, and, just for a second, Kaidan closes his eyes.
“You’re hugging him,” Ashley muses.
“And?” Kaidan says.
She shrugs. “Just pointing that out.”
The moment passes. He pulls away from Shepard and says, “I thought you were dead, Shepard. We all did.”
Shepard gives a lazy smile and says laconically, “It’s been too long, Kaidan. How’ve you been?”
Kaidan’s heart stops. His brain stops. Since the rumors of Shepard’s return started up a few months ago, he’s been rehearsing this moment in his brain over and over again. In no version of reality did he ever think Shepard would greet him like…what, a former roommate? Like an old classmate from the academy? Kaidan squints, aghast.
Ashley winces. “Wow, nevermind, Delan’s just been dethroned as king of the dicks.”
“Yeah, not Shepard’s finest moment,” Kaidan admits.
“Seriously, the first time you see him in two years, and—“ Ashley’s interrupted by the younger Kaidan.
“Is that all you have to say?” Kaidan says, gobsmacked at the absolute…disregard Shepard’s showing for him. For the Alliance. “You show up after two years and you just act like nothing happened. I would’ve followed you anywhere, Commander! Thinking you were gone..it was like—“ Kaidan pauses for half a heartbeat, trying to find the right words “—losing a limb. Why didn’t you try and contact me? Why didn’t you let me know you were alive?”
Ashley gestures vaguely. “Yeah, that’s what I was gonna say.”
The conversation between the younger Kaidan and Shepard starts to get more heated, but Ashley ignores it in favor of walking toward the two people standing behind Shepard. “So Garrus was with him, and…who’s this one?”
Kaidan pulls a face. “Miranda Lawson, Cerberus. The Illusive Man’s number two.”
“Cerberus, huh?” Ashley gives a low whistle. “No wonder the other you looks like he’s gonna have a coronary.”
Kaidan looks over and, indeed, his younger self is in the middle of ranting at Shepard about Cerberus’ many sins. He still agrees with what he said, still thinks he was right, but…
“You, on the other hand,” Ashley continues, walking back over to him, “look like you’re gonna ralph all over this field.” She looks down and grimaces. “Might be an improvement, honestly.”
“I just…I was so mad,” he says, gesturing to where his younger self is practically shouting now. “There he was, two years later, and I just…I couldn’t stop yelling.”
“Well yeah,” Ashley says, pointing over at Miranda, “he’s with the bad guys.”
“That wasn’t it.” Kaidan shakes his head in frustration.
“What was it?”
He shrugs uneasily. “I’ve gone over this conversation in my head for most of a year now, and I still don’t know.”
Ashley fixes him with a shrewd look. “Really. No idea at all.”
“You’ve changed,” Kaidan spits out, barely keeping control of his fury, “but I still know where my loyalties lie. I’m an Alliance soldier, always will be.”
“Pretty sharp words over there,” she comments idly, her eyes never leaving Kaidan’s face. “Sure you don’t know why you’re mad?”
He turns to go. “I’ve got to report back to the Citadel. They can decide if they believe your story or not.”
It’s so hard to concentrate. He can feel the anger welling up inside of him, even now, along with the guilt and the doubt and the—
He tries to breathe, to keep control, but it’s so hard when he just keeps reliving these moments over and—
Shepard speaks up, his voice as calm and steady as ever. “I could use someone like you in my crew, Kaidan. It’ll be just like old times.”
Kaidan flinches. Just like old times, he mouths along silently. What he wouldn’t give.
Kaidan steels himself. What he wouldn’t give…but no. Not like this. He looks back over his shoulder at his former commander, at his former…friend. “No, it won’t. I’ll never work for Cerberus. Goodbye, Shepard. And be careful.”
He walks away.
“Wait wait, he invites you along, and you don’t go? After all that talk about how you should’ve stayed with him back on the exploding Normandy?” Kaidan doesn’t know which is more uncomfortable, reliving this conversation yet one more time or Ashley’s unbroken stare. They watch his younger self walk away, the memory fading around them.
“So the universe is punishing you for walking away,” Ashley continues. It’s not a question.
He nods, once.
“Even though it was the right thing to do.”
“Was it?” he says bitterly. Wasn’t it?
“Again, Kaidan, you only do the right thing. Ever.” That look of hers drills into him. “I’m not sure you’re even capable of doing the wrong thing. Like, your programming wouldn’t allow it, beep boop beep.” She contorts her arms, swinging them towards him.
He bats them away. “I’m not a robot.”
“Prove it.”
He glares at her as another memory fades in. Same dark sky, same yellowed grass, same pre-fab construction pods. And huddled in between two of them, just out of sight of the main area, is a small figure in jet-black armor, head in hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
He tries to stop. He needs to stop. This is ridiculous, conduct unbecoming, he needs to report in, he needs to get a handle on this, he needs to—
“He didn’t even try to stop me from leaving,” he whispers.
He cries harder, muffling the sound with his hands, so that no one else can hear. So that no one else can find him.
“Ah,” Ashley says softly.
“I cried for hours,” Kaidan says, his words laced with anger. “For days. When I got back to the Citadel, I screamed at Anderson until I was hoarse.”
The sound of hands slapping against a desk. “Why didn’t you just tell me he was alright?” The echo of a voice off of metal walls. “Why did you make me chase rumors?” Anger, fear, grief, all mixed together, all pointed in the wrong direction. “Why?”
The shouted, desperate questions sound discordant, overlaid on top of this memory from another.
“Not like you to lose control like that,” Ashley says.
“No shit,” he bites back, venom in his voice. He closes his eyes, takes another breath. “Sorry.”
She shrugs. “No sweat. But why’d it happen?”
“Why’d I yell at Anderson?” He shifts uncomfortably. “He lied to me.”
“Did he really—“
“A lie of omission, then,” he says dismissively. “I don’t like being lied to.”
“Mm.” Ashley doesn’t sound convinced. “And you’re crying because…?”
Kaidan gestures inarticulately. “I…the shock of seeing Shepard, I guess. Garrus standing with him. Being with Cerberus.”
“No.” Ashley gently shakes her head. “Why are you crying?”
“Why am—“ He brings his hand to his cheek. It’s wet. He looks down at his fingers. “I…”
She steps closer to him. “You said the universe is punishing you, Kaidan. Why?”
“I…” He stares at the tears gathered on his fingertips.
“You what?” She puts a hand on his shoulder.
He doesn’t say anything.
“You what, Kaidan?” Ashley says, her voice pushing harder.
“I thought I had put all this behind me,” he whispers, a small quaver in his voice. “This…guilt. This doubt. I thought I’d dealt with it, worked through it.” He looks up at her, broken smile on his face as he feels the tears flow more freely now. “You know I went to counseling? Every week, for most of three years. Sometimes by vidchat, sometimes in person. Anderson made sure I had the time, the dispensation for it. I worked through these memories, I came to terms with the loss, the betrayal, I…”
“Kaidan,” she says, her thumb rubbing small circles on his shoulder, “what happened on Mars?”
Yelling. Running. Impact. Explosion.
She shakes her head, not unkindly. “No. Not that. What happened on Mars?”
He looks at her, confused, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I don’t…I mean…what do you mean?”
Ashley stays steady—steadier than he’s being right now, god, he envies that—and says, “What brought all these memories back up? What is it that made you think, really think, that you deserve to be punished?”
He doesn’t want to think about it, but the memory comes anyway. A metal hallway. Windows looking out over a vista of red dust. Bodies strewn about the chamber, black-and-yellow diamonds etched on their armor.
He doesn’t want to be here.
He doesn’t want to be here, but Earth’s on fire, and Command thinks there might be something on this rock that could put it out.
Not that Mars is really the problem.
Shepard walks over as Kaidan examines the dead Cerberus grunt. “What’ve you got?” His tone is light. Too light. Diplomatic, even, like he’s dealing with a merchant on the Citadel he knows has a short fuse.
Kaidan hates that this is how Shepard talks to him now.
Kaidan turns away. He doesn’t want to see this.
“He’s got a transmitter in his helmet. If I can—” Kaidan drops the grunt’s helmet suddenly, the sickly blue glow of the grunt’s mutated skin reflecting off of Kaidan’s armor. “My god,” he says in disgust, instantly recognizing the technology, Eden Prime forever burned into his brain. “He looks like a husk.”
“Gross,” Ashley comments, but Kaidan doesn’t feel like bantering this time. He can’t, not like this, not when he can’t focus or breathe or—
“Not quite,” Shepard says, voice steady. How is it that he’s so calm right now? He kneels down for a closer look. “But they’ve definitely done something to him.”
Kaidan hunches his shoulders. This was only, what, an hour ago? It feels like a lifetime.
He remembers it perfectly.
“And by ‘they’ you mean ‘Cerberus’?” Kaidan snaps. “They did this to their own guy? Is this what they did to you?”
Unfair. So unfair. Why did he say it?
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them. It’s deeply unfair. Shepard willingly turned himself in, spent six months in confinement, submitted to every medical exam the Alliance could think up. He’s clean, clear.
So why does it feel so good to score such a cheap point?
Ashley hisses. “Man, low blow there. Not quite ‘it’s been too long,’ but—“
“Stop it,” Kaidan snaps.
Shepard bristles. “How can you compare me to him?”
“Shepard, I don’t know what you are,” Kaidan says as he circles his onetime commander, evaluating him like a hostile. “Or who. Not since Cerberus rebuilt you. For all I know, you could be their puppet, controlled by the Illusive Man himself.”
“That’s not fair, Kaidan.”
It’s not. He knows it’s not. Why can’t he just stop talking?
Ashley gasps, mock dramatically. “Just spittin’ fire there, aren’t you, Kai—“
“I said stop it!” Kaidan shouts, getting in Ashley’s face, trying to ignore the memory of his argument with Shepard but he can’t, it’s just so hard to think—
Kaidan runs a hand over his forehead, wiping away the sweat gathered there. Why is it so hot in here? “Don’t try and explain it,” he says to Shepard, “I don’t think I’d understand anyway. I just want to know, is the person I followed to hell and back still in there, somewhere?”
“Stop what, LT?” Ashley says, not backing down, putting a hand roughly on his shoulder. “Stop pointing out how ridiculous you’re being?”
“Don’t you dare judge me,” he says angrily, “don’t you dare! I spent years mourning him, months defending him, and he—“
Shepard scowls, looking genuinely offended. It’s all Kaidan can do to keep the angry, judgmental look locked on his face so he doesn’t give anything away. “They didn’t change me, Kaidan,” Shepard says, hurt leaking out of every word.
“Why do you think you failed Shepard, Kaidan?” Ashley barks, interrupting him.
“I—“
Shepard’s face falls slightly, defeated. Kaidan’s stomach drops. “But words won’t convince you, will they?” Shepard mutters, like he already knows the answer.
“And why would the universe punish you for it,” she continues, not letting him answer, “even if you did?”
“Because—“
“Probably not,” Kaidan says quietly, equally defeated. This isn’t how he wanted this to go. Any of this.
And it’s not even the Reapers’ fault. It’s his.
“Kaidan,” she pushes, her hand like steel on his shoulder, nose-to-nose with him now, “why can’t you let any of this go?”
“I don’t—“
“You’re not that dense, yes you do!” she shouts. “Why?”
“I didn’t think so,” Shepard says.
“Because I’m in love with him!”
They stand there like that for a long moment. He knows he’s ruined it. He ruined it a long time ago. This just…seals it.
Kaidan’s eyes get very, very wide as the words leave him, like that’s not what he was going to say, and he pulls back suddenly from Ashley’s face.
The silence is thick in the room. More frightening than the blue glow under the Cerberus grunt’s helmet. And more final. And then Kaidan watches as somehow, from somewhere, Shepard pulls out a small smile. “You were always stubborn.”
“I know.” Ashley’s eyes are full of understanding. She gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Kaidan laughs in spite of himself, the reference to their shared past easing the knot in his stomach just slightly, Shepard’s smile easing it more. “Me?”
I…what? I don’t…that doesn’t…
Shepard claps a friendly hand on Kaidan’s shoulder and leads him away from the mutated Cerberus grunt. “Come on, let’s see what Cerberus is up to. Maybe we’ll both get some answers.”
Oh.
They walk together, a bit more companionably than when they first landed. Kaidan studiously, consciously, ignores the feeling stirring in his chest.
Kaidan tries to process what just happened as the memory fades around them, heart pounding, chest heaving. Why am I so out of control? I’ve dealt with this stuff already, I’m not—
“No, you haven’t,” Ashley says.
“What?”
“You haven’t dealt with it. None of it. Not really,” she says, squeezing his shoulder one last time and stepping away.
He blinks. “You could…hear me thinking?”
“Hi, remember me? Ashley Williams, dead best friend, now spiritual guide-slash-avatar of your subconscious?” She waves sardonically. “Yes, I can hear you thinking, dumbass, and I can tell you with great certainty that you haven’t dealt with any of this shit.”
“But I…” He swallows. “I worked on this stuff for years. With help. I—“
“Did you tell anyone else you’re in love with him?” She folds her arms, like she already knows the answer. Which, he surmises, she probably does.
Never could get anything past Ashley. “No. Of course not.”
“Why not?”
His voice goes flat. “Well, this is kinda new information to me, too, so—”
“Oh, come on,” she says with great exasperation. “New? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“What?” he responds, unable to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. “I didn’t know!”
“I knew! Tali knew! Even Joker knew!” A memory fades into existence around them—the Normandy’s mess, pre-Collectors. Various crewmembers are sitting at tables, enjoying a meal. Kaidan’s younger self stands off to one side, fixing that damn console that was forever on the fritz.
Shepard comes down the stairs, pad in hand, deep in thought. He navigates the tables effortlessly as he walks through the mess, ignoring most of the greetings tossed his way. But when he looks up and sees Kaidan, he stops. And smiles.
Kaidan shifts unconsciously, keeping the spanner in his hand steady as the butterflies in his stomach do somersaults.
“Is this…you doing this?” Kaidan says, his heart in his throat.
Ashley shakes her head, her long hair playing around her shoulders. “Your brain, man. I think you knew that we knew something.”
Kaidan scans the room as Shepard approaches his younger self. Sure enough, there’s Ashley, standing on the other side of the mess, looking his way shrewdly with tray in hand.
Focus, Alenko. He’s just being nice, like he is with everyone. Okay, two more minutes trying to fix this damn console again and I’ll go grab something to…why is Williams staring at me? What is she—
“Hey Kaidan.” Shepard says warmly. “Any luck fixing this thing yet?”
“Smooth, Commander,” Ashley snarks.
Kaidan throws her a look and scowls.
“I’m just saying,” she says, hands up defensively, “the man’s the best damn warrior in the galaxy, and he has absolutely no game.”
Kaidan chuckles. “Nope, still plugging away. I’m starting to think the turians sabotaged it when they were installing it,” he jokes. Over Shepard’s shoulder, Kaidan can see Williams sit down with Joker and Tali. Something she says makes Joker almost choke.
“You know, I’ve always been curious what it was you said to Joker there,” Kaidan muses, trying to ignore what’s happening between his younger self and Shepard.
“You should ask Joker someday,” Ashley laughs. “It’s pretty good.”
Kaidan huffs. “Not gonna tell me, huh.”
“Spoilers,” she teases.
Shepard snorts, bringing Kaidan’s focus back to the man in front of him. “Ugh, you’re probably right. Garrus is literally the only turian I’ve met who I haven’t wanted to space.” He waves the pad in his hand around with disgust; Kaidan tries to ignore the way Williams seems to be pointing in their direction with her fork. “Like this note from Councillor Sparatus. Apparently I’m not ‘submitting my Spectre reports in an orderly fashion,’” he finishes in a mocking tone.
Kaidan, torn between his love for paperwork and wanting to empathize with his commander, tries for a third option. “Yeah, turians are real sticklers for precision.” Over Shepard’s shoulder, Ashley starts cackling with glee, Joker thunking his head on the table. Kaidan makes a mental note to ask her later what the hell is going on.
Shepard rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you’d know all about turian idiots with Vyrnnus. No wonder you killed—“ Shepard freezes, eyes widening at what he’d just been about to say.
Ashley hisses. “Shepard’s foot-in-mouth disease strikes again.”
Kaidan chuckles, pleased to find the sting of that moment has completely faded.
Shepard gawps like a fish for a moment before saying, “Kaidan, I—“
Kaidan waves him off, hands wide in the universal sign of ‘yeah maybe you crossed a line but you’re not wrong.’ He says, “Aliens are individuals. Just because one’s an ass doesn’t mean they all are. So yeah, I hated that turian. But he wasn’t a turian to me. He was Vyrnnus.”
“Generous of you,” Ashley comments.
Kaidan preens, just a little. “I’m a generous guy.”
Ashley bats his shoulder.
“So that’s why you’re so self-controlled,” Shepard says, eyes grateful for the conversational lifeline.
Kaidan shrugs. “I’m no more disciplined than any other biotic, Shepard. That was all…ancient history. I’m over it.”
“Why so uncomfortable there, Kaidan?” Ashley asks.
Kaidan shifts his stance. Back then, he would’ve said he took that all in stride. Looking at it now, though…his face is tight, his posture ramrod straight. “I…think I didn’t want him to think I was weak.”
“Why?”
He gestures at Shepard. “It’s Shepard. N7, Butcher of Torfan, best commander I’d ever had.”
“Mm,” Ashley says, lips pursed, “I don’t think that’s it.”
Kaidan stifles a chuckle. “I mean, it can be two things.”
Shepard gets suddenly serious. No. Thoughtful. “You agonize over doing the right thing. You never let yourself lose control.” He pierces Kaidan with a look, his ice-blue eyes filled with unexpected warmth. “Because Rahna spurned you after Vyrnnus died.”
Ashley lets out a low whistle. “Man, did he have your number.”
“You’ve gotta have control as a biotic,” Kaidan says evenly. From Ashley’s look, he can tell she doesn’t find that convincing either.
“That’s…” Kaidan trails off, giving his head a slight shake with a chuckle. “Alright. Maybe you have a point. Maybe. But I’m okay.” He rubs the back of his head and looks down, suddenly self-conscious. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a fully functional human being. And I won’t be a burden on you.” He blinks, snapping back up to see Shepard giving him a half-smile. “Uh, on the crew.”
Kaidan rubs the back of his head, unconsciously mirroring his younger self. “Okay, so maybe in retrospect, I can kinda see it.”
“Kinda?” Ashley says incredulously.
“A little.”
“A little?”
“Oh, shut up.” He takes a swipe at her, which she dodges effortlessly, grin huge on her face.
“Kaidan, you’re a strong man,” Shepard says, leaning a bit closer into Kaidan’s space. Kaidan idly notices that Shepard’s left eye has a small fleck of blue that’s lighter than the rest. “Talking about this doesn’t make you a whiner, and it doesn’t make you immature.” Shepard puts a hand gently on Kaidan’s forearm. “It makes you human.”
“See? Terrible game,” Ashley observes.
Kaidan chuckles. “I dunno, it worked on me.”
“Alright. But it’s embarrassing that you had to tell me that.” Kaidan grins. “You’re right. I might need to loosen up. A little. I’ll try.” He can feel the heat rising in his cheeks and clamps down hard on the fluttering in his stomach. “I’m glad you’ll be here when it’s over, Shepard. I’m, uh, looking forward to some shore leave.”
“Oh my Lord, just kiss him already!” Ashley says, throwing her hands up as the memory fades.
“There wasn’t time,” Kaidan says wistfully. “Even if I had realized what I was feeling, this was right before we went to Virmire.”
“Ah.”
“And then from there it was a race to the Citadel, then Ilos, then debriefing the battle with Sovereign, and then…”
“Alchera.”
He nods. “Alchera.”
She takes his hands gently, looking into his eyes. “You know the universe isn’t punishing you for any of this, right?”
He nods uncomfortably. “Yeah. It’s just in my head.”
“You know you don’t deserve to punish yourself for any of this, right?” The look in her dark eyes is inscrutable.
Kaidan blows out a breath. “That one is…a lot harder.”
“Kaidan—“
“No, I mean it,” he says. “I…so clearly, I’ve been in love with him for a long time. And I get that the Normandy wasn’t my fault, and I get that Horizon wasn’t my fault, but…” He sighs. “I should’ve been there. Been…better. Or something.”
She cocks an eyebrow. “You are just determined to be the martyr here.”
Kaidan groans and tries to turn away, but Ashley’s grip on his hands is too strong. Or maybe…he doesn’t really want to turn away.
“Look, Kaidan,” she says, “you’ve spent so much time trying to stay in control of everything that you forget the universe is literally chaos incarnate. Sometimes there’s a reason for things, and sometimes, there’s not.”
The scene around them is indistinct, fuzzy, a blur of a Canadian cabin and a yellowed field and a familiar mess hall and so much more. But Kaidan only has eyes for Ashley, who continues, “You love him. Maybe there’s a reason for it. Maybe there isn’t. But it’s true, and you know it is, and you’ve known it deep down forever. And you can’t let go of these memories because you can’t help but think, what if I had told him? Would it have been different? Would it have been okay?”
“Would it?” he whispers back.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. But I don’t need to know.” She squeezes his hands. “And neither do you.”
He gives her a mock pout, even as he tries to hold back a fresh set of tears. “But I like knowing.”
She smirks. “Never change, LT.”
He laughs, and they embrace for a long moment. “I miss you,” he whispers.
“I know,” she whispers back.
When he finally pulls back, she grins at him and says, “So are you gonna tell him?”
He furrows his brow and gestures ruefully at the colorful, indistinct void they’re standing in. “A bit late, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” she says, drawing out the vowels.
He pushes her away playfully.
“Look,” she says, drawing back closer, taking his head gently in her hands. “I don’t know if you’re gonna wake up, or when. But promise me something, if you do.”
“Of course.”
She leans over and kisses his forehead. “Tell him. Go get your boy, LT.”
He leans into her touch, smiling softly.
After a moment, he pulls away, eyes shining. He grins. “So we’re best friends, huh?”
She scoffs. “Well, I’m your best friend, that’s for sure.”
He laughs, long and loud.
“Come on, tell me more about Delan,” Ashley says, picking what seems like a random direction and walking off into the void. “Was he always a dick like that, or was it just your special charm that turned him that way?”
Kaidan follows after, pulling a face. “Oh believe me, that guy had to have been crowned king of the dicks at a very young age.”
They walk together, Kaidan feeling lighter than he has in a very, very long time.
—
Weightlessness, like being gently carried.
Nothing.
It’s the beeping that focuses him.
Something.
He opens his eyes, squinting into the light. His head is throbbing. His mouth is dry. Everything feels stiff.
“Breathe.”
He takes a slow, deep breath. As his eyes adjust, he can see…trees, through the window. A promenade that curves up, and up, at the horizon.
The Citadel. Why am I on the Citadel?
He turns his head slightly, wincing in pain at the movement, to find the source of the beeping: a monitor, at his bedside, tracking his vitals.
A hospital. Huerta?
The last thing he can remember, he was on…Mars.
Yelling. Running. Impact. Explosion.
He winces again, remembering now why his head hurts. The robot. But they must’ve made it off Mars safely, no thanks to him—
“You know you don’t deserve to punish yourself for any of this, right?”
He shakes his head, the words gone as quickly as they’d come. If he made it off Mars, then everyone else must’ve too.
That feels…good.
The door to the room opens, and a nurse walks in, reading something off of a pad. She looks up and, noticing him watching her, stops abruptly. “Oh! Major, you’re awake.”
“Kaidan, you’re a strong man.”
“Mm,” he says slowly, “seems like. How bad?”
She walks quickly over to the monitor, putting the pad down and fussing with the instruments. “Well, you’re conscious, so pretty good, considering.”
He chuckles, then inhales sharply, groaning.
“How are you feeling, Major?” she asks.
“Well, given that a robot tried to pop my head like a grape…pretty good, considering.”
She laughs. “He told me you’d be charming.”
“Man, did he have your number.”
“He?” Kaidan asks, confused.
The nurse practically beams. “Commander Shepard. Tried to carry you right in himself, almost fought the orderlies with the stretcher. Ooh, that man, with those eyes…” She makes an indistinct noise that, nevertheless, carries a full weight of meaning.
“Best commander I’d ever had.”
“You know,” Kaidan says slowly, “would it be alright if I borrowed your pad? I should probably let the commander know I’m alright.” She gives him a long look. “You know, so he doesn’t, uh, worry.”
“Mm,” she says, lips pursed, “I don’t think that’s it.”
She smiles enigmatically. “Sure, honey,” she says, handing him the pad. She looks up through the room’s window and says, “Mm, looks like the doctor needs something. I’ll just be right back.” She winks, then leaves.
“I knew! Tali knew! Even Joker knew!”
Wonder what that was about, Kaidan thinks as he inputs his credentials and navigates to the comms box. His heart gives a sudden lurch as he types in Shepard’s name.
The soft touch of a kiss. “Tell him.”
He smiles softly, and starts writing.