Archive of Our Own ^beta

You can't hide from who you are
The light peels back the dark
You can run but you won't make it far

x

The Things We’ve Done

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Suit alarm. Another blood pressure alert.

Kaidan immediately queries his HUD for an update on Shepard’s vital signs. Pulse 116. Respiration twenty-two breaths per minute. Given the exertion required to walk into Sharjila’s headwinds on a shattered ankle, those numbers aren’t concerning. But Shepard’s systolic pressure has been dropping slow and steady over the last hour, and his body temperature is three tenths lower than last check.

A harsh gale laced with silicate batters their shields, triggering anew the flare, hiss, and inevitable overload alert. It’s happening quicker now, too. Too much sand. Too much grit. It’s a constant tax on a system not designed for this kind of sustained assault.

But that’s the least of their worries.

His sensor suite flickers. The nav point jumps, fizzles, then reappears a few meters off. Kaidan lightly smacks his helmet, trying to dislodge some of the detritus, then dusts off his shoulders.

“Never pegged you for the ‘smack it until it starts working’ type,” Shepard says.

His breathing is labored. Of course it’s labored. Don’t read so much into it. But that systolic number is dropping and his body temp is falling.

“Lack of options,” Kaidan replies. “All this crap is distorting the sensors.”

The wind snaps and whips. In a heavy atmosphere like this one, every step requires the same amount of effort it would take to walk through water. Shepard grunts and leans heavily against Kaidan, bracing himself as best he can on one good leg. Even with the power-assist lock they’d initiated to stabilize what’s left of his ankle, his mobility is limited. Kaidan plants his feet and takes Shepard’s added weight.

Particulates rail against their shields. It’s not long before they saturate and debris begins pinging off their faceplates.

Kaidan grits his teeth and turns his head, raising the arm that’s not threaded behind Shepard’s back in a futile attempt to ward off the assault. Shepard angles in closer towards him until their helmets clack, covering the corroded gash over the left side of Kaidan’s chestplate with a hand. It won’t help, but Shepard doesn’t need to be told, so Kaidan bother to say so. His HUD helpfully informs him the structural integrity of the armor plating is down to thirty percent. He’s going to need to ditch it soon. If he has to take it off in the middle of this storm, a puncture to the reactive soft armor underneath is inevitable.

In thirty-nine atmospheres, if the reactive armor goes…so does he.

For agonizing minutes, there is only the sound of wind and Shepard’s ragged breath over the comm.

“Hanging in there?” Kaidan asks when it dies down.

“Just like assault training on Titan,” Shepard replies, trying to straighten once more. He sucks in a sharp breath as he pivots on his right knee in an attempt to straighten. The servos grind, armor joints just half a beat slow to respond, and Shepard stumbles. Kaidan tightens his hold and somehow keeps them from winding up tangled on the ground.

“Fuck,” Shepard swears. Beads of sweat stand out on his forehead through the grime-caked faceplate. He’s pale.

“Not much farther.”

Shepard grunts. “Nice try. My sensors are telling me the same thing yours are. Which is nothing.”

“A little optimism wouldn’t kill you.” He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Shepard says after a silence that stretches out too long.

Kaidan queries Shepard’s suit VI, inventorying the stock of medications the medical exoskeleton still has available.

“How’s the pain?” he asks, gaze drifting down towards the roughshod suit patch covering the pinhole breach in his greave.

“Ready for a marathon,” Shepard replies. When Kaidan doesn’t answer he grimaces. “Would love some morphine right about now.”

Kaidan shakes his head. “Can’t.”

“Sadist.”

He doesn’t smile. “I’ve been watching your blood pressure.”

Another infinite pause. “Yeah.”

Kaidan doesn’t need to say what it means. Shepard may not be a medic, but N training certainly taught him the signs of shock.

“Your armor locked down the leg pretty good. The bleeder’s got to be somewhere else. If I had to guess, it was…” He swallows, trying not to picture it. “Doesn’t matter. Knowing doesn’t do us any good if I can’t fix it. We need to get you to a medbay.”

Shepard nods. “I know.”

“If your BP keeps dropping, morphine will only make it worse. Best I can do is some NSAIDS.”

“Great. That should do the trick.”

“Better than nothing.”

Kaidan draws in a deep breath. Dragging Shepard around like this goes against everything he knows about first aid. But out here, they don’t have a chance in hell. They need shelter. The mountains are their only shot at finding some. They have to keep moving.

“I’m going to give you a stim,” he says reluctantly.

“You’re the medic.”

Kaidan sends his authorization to Shepard’s suit VI. Deep in the armor’s complex architecture, a micro dermal patch administers the drugs.

Shepard closes his eyes and inhales deeply.

Kaidan remains still, bearing Shepard’s weight until he’s ready to move again. But when he takes a step forward Shepard resists.

“Alenko.”

Every muscle in Kaidan’s body tightens like a coiled spring.

“What.”

Shepard shifts more of his weight off the injured leg. “About Dantius.”

Kaidan cuts him off with a shake of his head and tightens his grip on Shepard’s arm. “We’ll deal with it later. We have to keep moving.”

Shepard stares at him in silence before nodding and trudging forward.

The wind picks up again, stirring up eddies of silicate. Ahead of them, the tumbled, broken surface of Sharjila yawns wide and empty, except for more dust and more wind.

~

03 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila Orbit, SSV Madrid, 12 hours earlier

Extra tubing. Extra scrubbers. Extra packs of omni-gel for suit patches. Everything a good medic needs for EVA on a planet labeled as a pressure hazard.

At thirty-nine atmospheres, Sharjila is indeed a hazard.

Kaidan exhales as he climbs out of the Grizzly, still secured in the hold of the Madrid. At this point, Shepard’s reputation behind the wheel is such that Lieutenant Ziegler, the tech responsible for the tank, probably gets an ulcer the moment Myeongnyang docks with the cruiser. The fact that the Grizzly is too big to fit in the ‘Yang’s hold is a blessing.

But since the mission calls for a tank, here they are.

Shepard runs the final checklist with Ziegler, the same scowl he’s worn since the mission fell in their lap still firmly in place.

They’re looking for a slaver operation, headed up by an asari by the name of Dahlia Dantius, and Alliance intel traced her location to a literal hellhole. Sharjila is not the kind of place you want to go unless you’re trying to hide where no one has the balls to look, which is presumably why they put Shepard in charge of flushing her out.

Beaudoin racks his rifle on his back and exhales, helmet in hand. Aslany slugs his shoulder before hoisting herself through the Grizzly’s hatch.

“Remember your training,” Kaidan instructs the marines. “If you get out of the tank, pay attention to your surroundings. Limit your exposure. Under that many atmospheres, a suit puncture the size of a pinhole could snap a bone.”

“Yes, dad,” Pendergrass says as she tosses a satchel of grenades through the hatch before climbing in after them. From the belly of the tank comes a clunk followed by Aslany’s indignant “Hey!”

“Yes, sir,” Shepard barks, walking past them on his way to the driver compartment. “No room for screwing around on this one. Alenko’s trying to save your life.”

“Yes, sir,” Pendergrass says meekly.

“We’ve got a limited window. A sandstorm’s moving in that will interfere with comms, sensors, and just about anything else. We need to get in, find her, and get out.”

Beaudoin nods. “Let’s do it.”

Kaidan and Shepard settle into the driver compartment. Once they’re strapped in, Shepard radios Lieutenant Ziegler to greenlight the drop, expression still made of stone.

“You all right?” Kaidan asks.

The gravity well cants as Shepard dips into it, gaze trained on the windshield even though there’s nothing to see.

“I hate targets like this,” he says eventually. “Bad memories.”

With the words missing, presumed captured, still printed next to his father’s name in the record logs, Kaidan can only imagine what kind of memories those are.

“If she’s there, we’ll find her,” Kaidan says. “If she’s got captives, we’ll rescue them. We’ve got your back.”

The hiss of hydraulics accompanies the opening of the cargo bay door. Below them yawns a hazy, sulfur-strewn landscape.

“Yeah,” Shepard says. “When we’re done, there’ll be one less target to worry about.”

A few minutes later, they’re in freefall over Sharjila.

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Shepard’s systolic pressure has dropped from 114 to 108. Pulse 122 and slowly climbing. Body temperature still dropping, and he’s still sweating. All moving in the wrong direction. Kaidan tries to tell himself it’s the stims.

It’s not the stims.

He’s bleeding internally. If there were any doubts before, they’re gone now.

Shepard stumbles over a rise in the terrain. The locked joints of his stabilized left leg can’t avoid it, and they both wind up sprawled in a cloud of sulphur-laced debris.

“Shepard!”

More biofeed alarms. Shepard’s heart rate spikes to 130. Kaidan tastes adrenaline in the back of his mouth.

He hoists himself up on his knees and grabs Shepard’s shoulder. His eyes are squeezed shut. A grunt of pain escapes his lips. Mere centimeters of space between them, but two layers of armor make it more like a gulf.

The wind kicks up again. For several minutes the landscape disappears behind a deluge of silicate. This time the shield emitters do nothing but sputter in mild protest.

Kaidan grabs the sides of Shepard’s helmet and leans in until their faceplates touch.

“Talk to me. Please.”

“Still here,” Shepard manages after agonizing seconds. “Just not happy about it.”

Kaidan checks his sensors yet again. He should be able to see the elevation change by now. Either their visibility is just that bad, or they’ve been walking in the wrong direction.

Another alert blares in his HUD. This time it’s Shepard’s O2 scrubber nearing saturation. That, at least, is something Kaidan can handle, if they can get a break from this wind.

“We’re almost there.” If he says it aloud, he might believe it.

Shepard shakes his head. “I can’t—”

“You can. Get up.”

“I’m anchoring you down. You should leave me here and go.”

“Are you insane? I leave you out here and you’ll die.”

“So will you if you don’t get out of this storm. I can see your suit data as well as you can see mine. That plating integrity is down to eighteen percent. You’ve got to get it off before it’s corroded through. Leave me, find shelter. At least one of us will make it out.”

“Would you leave me?” Kaidan asks in disbelief, then holds up a hand before Shepard can open his mouth. “Don’t answer. I don’t want to know.”

“Alenko.” The hurt in his voice is almost worse than any answer he could give.

“Get up.”

The wind howls, railing them with fresh debris, and Shepard gets to his feet.

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila Surface, Surface Scouting

“No, no, no,” Beaudoin argues, voice tinny over the radio connecting the Grizzly’s passenger compartment with the driver cabin. “That is not the biggest thing that flies. Whatever Palaven’s got, I’ve got one better. Here, look at this.”

“What the fuck is that thing?” Aslany demands.

“Quetzalcoatlus,” Beaudoin replies.

“Something that huge flies?” Pendergrass exclaims. “Lemme see that.”

Kaidan’s chuckle gets stuck in his throat as Shepard bullies the tank over another rock, a gust of wind buffeting them on the way down.

“Ziegler is going to have your head when we get back,” Kaidan says.

“He can try.” The smirk tugging the corner of his lips is a nice change from the scowl. “What the hell is Beaudoin on about, exactly?”

“Prehistoric birds.”

Shepard huffs. “I prefer kakliosaurs.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Did you know krogan used to ride into battle?”

Kaidan groans. “I didn’t want to know. You’re bad enough with a tank. I don’t want to imagine you riding an armored animal.”

Shepard looks over at him, smirk becoming a grin as the Grizzly slews hard to the left. Kaidan grips the handle over his right shoulder. In the back compartment, Aslany lets out a whoop.

“Watch the road, you ass.”

“Find me something to drive toward and I’ll watch where I’m going.”

“You’re the worst,” Kaidan says with a chuckle. To emphasize his point, he digs a ration bar out of his medkit and tosses it to Shepard. “Eat that.”

Shepard’s eyes narrow.

“Come on, I know you skipped breakfast.”

“Wasn’t hungry.”

“Your loss. Navarro made pancakes.”

Shepard huffs. “Yours would be better anyway.”

“I have never made you pancakes,” Kaidan points out. “I just happen to know the best place on Arcturus. But if I did make them, you’re right, they’d be damned good.”

“Pretty high on yourself.”

“Think I’ve earned an ego, even if it’s just a reward for putting up with your shitty tastebuds.”

“My tastebuds are delightful. I like your risotto, don’t I?”

“Everyone loves my risotto.”

Shepard grins. The Grizzly makes another hard right for no apparent reason other than he felt like it.

Kaidan shakes his head and peers through the windshield at the desolate landscape, open plains interrupted only by rock formations that jut up like jagged teeth.

“Nodacrux doesn’t seem so bad now, huh?” Kaidan muses.

Shepard gives him a withering look.

They’ve been driving for hours without so much as a hint of a structure, much less anything alive. If the asari is here, she sure as hell isn’t wandering around outside. She’s bunkered down somewhere, and with that clusterfuck approaching on sensors, she’s got the upper hand if they don’t find her. Fast.

“That storm’s getting closer,” Kaidan says. “If we don’t find her in the next two hours, we’re going to have to bug out and wait for it to pass, or risk losing comms.”

“I guarantee you Dantius won’t give a shit about a dust storm. We leave, she’ll take the opportunity to run and we’ll lose the trail. This is our best chance.”

It’s more than a dust storm. More like a dust catastrophe, but no sense in arguing. Even if they miss the window for retrieval, the Grizzly should be protection enough if they have to ride it out.

A blip lights up the sensors, a few kilometers from their current position.

“Shepard. I think I’ve got something.”

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Kaidan waits for a lull in the wind to switch Shepard’s O2 scrubber. His own still has more life left in it, enough that they might reach shelter before he needs to change it out. Shepard’s using a lot more oxygen than Kaidan would like, but telling someone who’s trying not to die to breathe less isn’t exactly a winning strategy.

“We have four O2 scrubbers left,” he says. “Should be okay.”

“If we’re here long enough to go through four scrubbers I’ll be dead anyway.”

“Why do you make everything so hard,” Kaidan mutters, as he digs through his medkit. Four scrubbers, just like he thought. Along with two bags of saline, vasopressors, and a couple of coils of tubing.

He pulls out a scrubber and closes the medkit, trying not to think about the fact he’s going to need the rest soon if they can’t get out of this godforsaken place.

Kaidan flash-fabricates a ceramic shield with his omni-tool to protect the port in the armor plating while he switches the scrubber out.

“You’re right,” Shepard says softly.

Kaidan doesn’t answer, but his eyes flick to the biofeeds as he works. Systolic pressure down to eighty-nine. Heart rate parked at one-twenty. Not good.

“How do you feel?”

Shepard huffs. “You mean aside from dragging myself around on a shattered ankle?”

“Yes.”

Shepard watches him for several seconds before answering. Kaidan focuses on the scrubber as it pops into place.

“Dizzy. Can’t stop sweating.”

Kaidan closes the port, tossing the ceramic shield and saturated scrubber into the dust. “I have to get you to shelter. If your BP keeps dropping I’m going to need to run some fluids.”

He doesn’t look at the HUD flag on his chest plate. Shepard’s not the only one running out of time.

Before he can get up, Shepard grips his arm. The rapid rise and fall of his chest is clear even through the armor plating, and his skin is notably paler than it was an hour ago.

“Look. If you have something to say, you should say it.”

Kaidan’s own pulse rate quickens in alarm. “Can we not do this right now?”

Shepard’s eyes are glassy with pain, but his gaze remains uncomfortably perceptive. “There might not be another chance.”

“I’m not letting you die.”

“Kaidan.”

A chill runs down his spine. Shepard has never called him by his first name. Not in the two years they’ve served together.

“What,” he says, mouth dry.

“Sometimes it’s not a choice.”

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Dantius Compound

They lose comms with the Madrid about twenty minutes before they find the structure. Judging by the wind and thick curtain of particulates blowing through, they won’t get it back anytime soon.

Dantius’ compound is a hell of a lot more than a prefab box. A reinforced hab built to withstand the environmental pressure stands out as an eyesore against the yellowed landscape. Not that you can make Sharjila look much worse.

“That has to have cost a fortune,” Kaidan observes. “She’s really setting up shop.”

“Or she’s already been here for a while.”

Neither prospect is particularly encouraging.

“Two airlocks,” Kaidan notes as Shepard eases the tank to a halt. “Front and rear. Rear one looks big.”

“For cargo transport,” Shepard says with a nod.

Kaidan swallows. By cargo, he means people.

“Life signs?”

Kaidan chews his lip as he runs a few more scans. “I think I’ve got heat signatures near the rear airlock.”

Shepard shifts in his seat. “Any idea how many?”

“Hard to tell from out here. Storm interference is wreaking havoc on sensors. No sign of a shuttle anywhere. Just a couple of eezo bikes out back.”

“She must be waiting for a rendezvous with a buyer.”

Kaidan shifts in his seat. “Good thing we’re here.”

“Make no mistake. She has a way out. Probably more than one.” His expression darkens. “She’ll use the captives as leverage. Pendergrass, don’t suppose you can disable airlock cycle alerts so they don’t know we’re coming?”

“They kinda design ‘em so you can’t do that, boss.”

“Worth a shot,” Shepard says. “Ok. We can’t go in the back without endangering the captives. So we kick in the front door. Everyone, follow my orders. Either she walks out of there or we do. Got it?”

He gets a chorus of yes, sirs, from the back.

“The storm will interfere with suit-to-suit comms just like it is to the ship,” Kaidan warns. “Stay within a few meters.”

“Look at that mess out there,” Aslany replies. “Nowhere to fucking go.”

Well. She’s not wrong.

“Check your helmet seals.” Shepard releases his restraints, but looks back at Kaidan before reaching for the hatch. “This is gonna get ugly.”

“We’re ready,” Kaidan says, but unease coils in his gut. “There are people in there. We have to try.”

Shepard gives him a long, hard look before he opens the hatch.

“Let’s go.”

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Shepard’s systolic blood pressure drops below eighty when Kaidan finds the cave. It’s one thing to drag him over relatively flat ground, another to get him up the broken rock face when he spies an opening about five meters up the base of a low foothill.

It’s little more than a small alcove, hardly enough room to stand, but it’s shelter from the storm and that’s all that matters. By the time they make it inside, Shepard isn’t the only one gasping for breath. On the final stagger Kaidan catches a toe on a rock and they both wind up sprawled on the floor.

“Fuck,” Shepard sputters, flat on his stomach. “Fuck.”

Kaidan seizes him by the shoulder and rolls him over, but before he can speak Shepard’s hands fumble for Kaidan’s chest plate. He finds the release and triggers it, popping it off and casting it to the side. Relief floods his eyes. His helmet clacks against the ground as he lays his head back and exhales.

The chest plate lands upside down. On the underside, a thin line of corrosion shows where it had eaten through the plating. Kaidan’s life had been spared by minutes.

“So you do give a damn about something,” Kaidan murmurs, not taking his eyes off it.

Shepard props on his elbows enough to look at him. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Kaidan says, digging out his medkit and looking anywhere but at Shepard. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Shepard says after a moment.

Kaidan eyes the vasopressors in the medkit. With two bags of saline to work with, he has a little time before he has to make that call.

“You look scared,” Shepard says. “Never seen you look scared. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Your BP keeps dropping,” Kaidan replies, avoiding his gaze. “I need to run some saline.”

Shepard struggles to sit up, scooching over far enough to sit with his back against the cave wall. The exertion is enough to take the wind out of him. “There’s one thing to be happy about, at least.”

“Enlighten me.” Kaidan unwinds the tubing, then crawls to Shepard and takes the arm he offers.

“Of all the medical flags I’m throwing, glucose isn’t one of them. Don’t I get a little credit for that?”

Kaidan huffs. “Running a medical override to get at your IV port.”

A few swift commands in his HUD and a seal pops free on the underside of Shepard’s arm. The end of the tubing screws in easily enough.

“Mexo is gonna scan your arm and find the vein. Get ready for a stick.”

“I hate needles,” Shepard manages, body tensing.

“Relax. I’ve got you.”

A few seconds later Shepard flinches.

“Ok,” Kaidan says with a nod. “It’s in.”

Shepard exhales and leans his head back against the wall. “I really hate needles.”

Kaidan focuses on the bag of saline while he connects it to the other end of the tubing. “This should help you feel a little better.”

“For now,” Shepard says with a faint smile.

“I have more than one trick up my sleeve. You wanna die, you’re going to have to try harder.”

“I don’t want to die,” Shepard says after a long pause. “I didn’t want…anyone to die.”

“Don’t.”

Shepard’s eyes follow Kaidan.

“They made it out,” Shepard says, voice soft. “I’m sure they—”

“Don’t.”

They lapse into silence, and wait.

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Dantius Compound

Shepard fires the first shot before the airlock fully opens. An asari staggers backwards with a cry of dismay, a biotic barrier only able to do so much against two shotgun blasts at point blank range. Two more of Dantius’ mercs, a pair of batarians, open fire, one slug catching Aslany in the shoulder. She jerks, shields sizzling with the kinetic energy of the impact, but she gets her own shot off first.

Two well-timed electric countermeasure mines placed by Pendergrass clear the path to the main compound. Beaudoin picks off a turian who waits just inside the door.

An asari stands in the middle of the room, wearing a hardsuit and brandishing a rifle, flanked by about eight more mercenaries, only four of whom have helmets on.

Dantius aims the rifle. The gravity well hums, though she shows no signs of a corona. Not yet.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demands in a low voice.

Shepard smirks. “A really bad day.”

Kaidan quick-scans the room. A few containers, sleeping racks, and storage drawers along the far wall. When he finds the second airlock, his heart sinks in his chest. Through the thick panes of reinforced transparent aluminum, Dantius’ captives are crammed shoulder to shoulder.

“Commander,” Kaidan murmurs into the private comm channel. “She doesn’t just have the captives near the airlock. They’re in the airlock.”

And none of them are wearing suits.

Shepard takes a step forward, shotgun ready. “Surrender peacefully, and you’ll live. Make it hard for me, and you won’t leave this compound.”

Behind her faceplate, her lip curls in a smirk. “We’ll see about that.”

Kaidan’s eyes flick to the captives, about thirty in all by his rough count, crammed inside the airlock like livestock going to slaughter. More than half are human, though he spots a couple of blue skull crests and batarian ridges among them. One of the humans, with his face pressed against the glass, can’t be more than twelve.

Aslany, Pendergrass and Beaudoin remain behind them, each with a bead on a different target. They’re outnumbered, but not by much. They’ve seen worse odds.

“You look like the hero type,” Dantius croons. “So how about this? I’ll offer you a deal.”

Shepard’s gun lowers a fraction. “I’m listening.”

“Take the captives. Parade them back to their homes, play the hero and bathe in the praise of your superiors. Only condition is that I walk past you and out the airlock…unpursued.”

“And if I say no?”

She takes one hand off her rifle to produce a small, cylindrical device, twirling it casually. “Then I cycle the outer door, and you and I get to play catch me if you can.”

Kaidan’s stomach drops. The captives aren’t wearing suits. None of them are wearing suits. She opens the airlock under this kind of atmospheric pressure and she may as well be detonating a bomb.

Shepard raises his shotgun once more, expression shifting into something cold and ruthless right before he pulls the trigger.

“I’m not here for them.”

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Full bag of saline and Shepard’s BP is still dropping, down to sixty-eight systolic. Kaidan swears.

Shepard’s eyes flutter open, half smile playing across his lips. “You could try kicking it until it works.”

Kaidan reaches for the medkit again. He’d hoped to be able to wait a little longer before running the second round of saline. Time. Time. He needs time, and they don’t have it. The storm is thinning outside but not fast enough. They still don’t have comms, still don’t have any idea if a rescue team is coming.

Still no idea if Beaudoin even got the others out in the first place.

He needs to buy Shepard time, and his choices aren’t good ones.

“I’m going to increase the oxygen saturation in your helmet,” he says. “Help oxygenate your blood.”

“Do we have enough spare scrubbers for that?”

“You said it yourself,” Kaidan murmurs, unable to say the rest out loud. He’ll be dead before we go through them all.

The silence between them is heavy enough to crush them both.

“Talk to me,” Shepard says.

Kaidan retrieves a cylinder from the medkit and holds it up. “I have vasopressors that can help slow the bleeding. It’ll buy you time.”

“But.”

“But they should be run from a central line. All I can do out here is IV fluids. That…has risks.”

“Already dealing with a few risks. What’s a few more?”

“The drug can cause limb ischemia. The vasculature in that busted leg is already compromised. You could lose it if I’m not careful. And it’s only a stall. The longer we go without stopping the bleeding, the more blood volume you lose. Your organs stop perfusing, and—”

“I get it,” Shepard interrupts. “It’s okay. I trust you to do it. If I lose the leg, I lose the fucking leg.”

Kaidan swears again and starts running the vasopressors with the last bag of saline.

“Kaidan,” Shepard says, with that soft, low voice Kaidan is quickly growing to hate. “This isn’t your fault.”

He lets the silence thicken again before he answers.

(I’m not here for them.)

“I know.”

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Dantius Compound

For an eyeblink, when Dantius drops the cylinder, Kaidan’s stomach unknots. She didn’t cycle it. She didn’t kill them.

But then the airlock turns green, and Kaidan stops breathing.

Dantius opens fire. Her mercenaries open fire. Bullets dimple his kinetic shields as Shepard shouts, shotgun blaring, Kaidan only has eyes for the airlock.

They’re silent when they scream.

Dantius isn’t. She bellows with rage, corona blazing as she snares a fuel container in a skein of dark energy and hurls it at Shepard. He flings himself out of the way, taking Beaudoin with him, a nanosecond before her pistol barks and the canister explodes in a ball of fire. Shepard shoves Beaudoin clear as he hits the ground, rolls, and springs back to his feet.

The gravity well roars as Shepard’s corona ignites, and he charges after Dantius like the wrath of hell. She’s halfway to the airlock when she thumbs another trigger, exploding the inner door. Exterior pressure screams into the compound, along with the wet squelch of crunching bone. Four of her mercenaries aren’t wearing helmets.

Dantius charges through the ruined airlock door, skidding over the crushed and mangled remains of her hostages before vanishing into the curtain of wind-whipped debris outside. Shepard cuts the same path through the corpses without a backward glance.

They’re all dead.

An overheat klaxon rings in Kaidan’s ear. He doesn’t remember drawing his pistol, doesn’t remember opening fire, but the mercenary lying dead at his feet suggests his aim was good.

God, he killed them all.

Static roars in his ears, Shepard bellowing into the comms over the sound of an engine gunning to life.

“…in pursuit…bike! Alenko! Get the…in…Grizzly and…my transponder!”

Pendergrass’ hand falls on his arm. Bullets from the mercenaries still left standing send ripples through the blue shimmer of her shields.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” she shouts, nearly yanking him off his feet. Aslany and Beaudoin are already halfway to the compound’s entrance. One of Pendergrass’ ECM mines sends a crackle of electricity seething through the air.

Shepard’s transponder disappears from his HUD.

Kaidan tears his gaze away from the carnage and runs for the tank. Beaudoin is already behind the wheel as Kaidan swings through the hatch, detritus from the storm blowing in with him. What had just been a few gusts when they entered the compound has deteriorated into a howling gale, silicate and sulfur whirling in a sickly yellow swarm out the windshield. In this mess, his suit sensors can’t find Shepard’s transponder. Comms are still useless outside of short range.

Shepard’s not in range.

“Do you have a lock on his transponder?” Kaidan demands.

“Only if I can keep up,” Beaudoin replies, hands clenched on the wheel. “Sensors are taking a beating in this shit. I can’t fucking see anything.”

“I’ve got sensors, you just drive.”

The blue blip on radar that marks Shepard’s transponder cuts a swath across the broken ground to the west of the compound, into the storm rather than away from it. The sky bike he’d commandeered can’t have much of an eezo core, but he’s well over a hundred KPH and speeding up.

“Shepard,” Kaidan says into the comm.

Static.

“Commander, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

Beaudoin swears. “What the hell just happened? What the fuck happened back there?”

He killed them all.

“Just drive. We lose him, we’ll never find him.”

More swearing under his breath. The Grizzly picks up speed. “Yes, sir.”

“Everyone good back there?” Kaidan says into the open channel to the passenger compartment.

“Yeah,” Pendergrass replies, in a tone that suggests she’s anything but.

No time. No time. Shepard’s out there in this mess, chasing a slaver who’d just destroyed thirty lives out of spite, and he could have stopped her.

Instead he’d let her do it.

The Grizzly skims in a near straight line towards Shepard’s blinking transponder, tires buffeting over the pocked, uneven terrain, debris from the storm sending ripples through the tank’s kinetic shielding. Ahead of them, the ground dips low into an even flatter, longer plain, and in the middle the glow of twin biotic stars burns through the murk.

“I see him,” Beaudoin says, gunning the engine even harder.

Shepard flies across the open terrain, corona bright as a torch, keeping pace with Dantius a few meters ahead of him. A snare of dark energy streaks out behind her, but Shepard swerves, putting everything he has into a biotic barrier to keep her from altering the mass of the bike.

“Aslany, I’ve tagged Dantius in the sensor grid,” Kaidan says. “Can you hit her from here?”

The turret grinds as Aslany rotates it.

“I’m gonna try. The LC’s awful close.”

Kaidan holds his breath.

Shepard’s bike explodes.

A fireball swallows the engine, the force of it flinging Shepard into the air at terrible speed. Kaidan watches in horror as he somersaults, limb over limb, before slamming into the ground.

“Oh shit,” Beaudoin cries.

Aslany opens fire, turret kicking and sending reverberations throughout the tank, but Kaidan’s forgotten about Dantius completely. The Grizzly closes rapidly on the remnants of Shepard’s bike, Kaidan staring hard at his HUD. They’re still too far out. Shepard’s biofeeds are still dark. Still dark. Still—

Alarm klaxons ring in his HUD as they pull in range and Shepard’s hardsuit data finally makes it through the interference. Heart rate, blood pressure, respiration, all blare to life in a sea of red alarms, but Kaidan only has eyes for one.

Suit breach. Oh god.

The ground beneath them shudders.

“What was that?” Beaudoin asks, voice filled with dread.

A massive shape breaks through the rocky surface, shedding reams of sediment and dirt from its thick, chitinous hide as it rears nearly twenty meters into the sky. Short, jointed claws jut from each segment of the mammoth trunk, flicking and waving now that they’re free of the soil.

Thresher maw.

“Fuck me,” Beaudoin shouts, slewing the tank hard to the left and braking so hard Kaidan’s head nearly hits the windshield.

“No!” Kaidan cries. “Intercept it.”

“Intercept it?”

“We don’t give it something to focus on, Shepard’s dead.”

The beast bellows, the slavering tentacles framing the great maw of its mouth dwarfed by a pair of lethal stingers unfurling above its head. It weaves, fixated on the shape still prone on the ground.

“Aslany, open fire! Shoot it, shoot it!”

Aslany unloads. A volley of mass-accelerated bullets punctures its carapace, spraying viscera and chunks of chitin.

It works.

Its head swivels, another bellow shaking the tank, or worse, maybe the tremor comes from what they can’t see, still under the ground.

Beaudoin accelerates. The Grizzly swerves, fishtailing in the loose soil before finding traction and peeling off. The steady chatter of bullets pauses only long enough for Aslany to realign the turret.

“Jesus Christ,” Beaudoin murmurs. “We didn’t even hurt it.”

The thresher’s head bobs, maw opening wide to eject a viscous, green fluid. Beaudoin slews them to the right, swearing, but the Grizzly isn’t agile enough to bank out of the way. Alarms blare.

“Port armor integrity compromised,” Kaidan says through gritted teeth.

“What the shit? Is it spitting acid?”

“Keep ahead of it!”

“Fuck!”

Aslany’s voice filters over the comm. Her voice trembles. “I don’t have enough fucking ordnance to kill this thing.”

Shepard’s biofeeds continue to wail in his HUD. Suit puncture. Medigel dispensed. Signs of respiratory distress. But alive. Somehow, alive.

Kaidan’s heart pounds. The turret continues firing.

“Chief,” he says, voice eerily calm. “Keep moving. Do what you can to draw it off and give me as much time as you can.”

“Give you time?”

Another voice over the comm, Pendergrass this time. “LT what the hell are you doing?”

Kaidan releases his restraints and moves for the hatch. “I’m going after Shepard.”

“You’re going to leave us?”

He ignores the distress in her voice. “Distract the maw for as long as you can, then get the hell out. The storm boundary is about sixty kilometers east. Contact the Madrid and evac. Come back for us when the storm clears.”

“Lieutenant, are you out of your—”

“I’m giving you an order, Service Chief,” Kaidan snaps.

The tank swerves hard to avoid another volley. The ground shakes as the maw thrashes, then sinks beneath the surface.

“Oh no it fucking didn’t,” Aslany says, a note of hysteria entering her voice.

“Do not stop moving,” Kaidan instructs, gripping the hatch. “Buy me time, but not with your lives, understand? Get out of here.”

“Alenko—”

“Is your helmet sealed?”

Beaudoin swears.

“Is your helmet sealed?”

“Yes.”

Kaidan opens the hatch.

“Alenko!” Pendergrass cries.

He hoists himself through, clinging to the Grizzly’s roof to shut and seal the hatch. A high-pressure warning displays dutifully over his HUD. Kaidan dismisses the alert and checks once again for Shepard’s transponder signal. Beaudoin has already arced the Grizzly back towards him. Kaidan counts, watching the meters tick down. When he’s about three hundred out, he takes a deep breath, and dives off the tank.

His corona flares bright to cushion his fall, but he still hits the ground with bone-jarring force, rolling with the momentum until he comes to a stop on his stomach.

The tank speeds away, rapidly swallowed up by the storm until it’s little more than a shadow.

What did I just do?

He hoists himself up with a grunt, frantically searching his HUD for Shepard. His ribs protest when he sucks in a breath of air, but no medical alerts suggest taking a swan dive from a speeding tank had been an even dumber idea than EVA with a loose thresher maw.

Kaidan staggers to his feet.

The tremor that shakes the ground is violent enough he nearly loses his balance. The thresher resurfaces less than a hundred meters to his right, silicate and stone sloughing away from the armored exoskeleton and clattering off Kaidan’s suit like hailstones.

Run!

He doesn’t dare call for his corona again, but it doesn’t matter. The thresher locks on to him and lunges with a roar, stinger slamming into the ground just a meter away, another spate of viscous fluid ejecting from its maw. He lowers his chin and runs faster.

The gravity well cants, every hair on the back of his neck rising as familiar biotic field washes through his skin, Shepard’s aura a sapphire gleaming through the murk. Kaidan gasps as his entire body tingles in the grip of a mass-reducing field before Shepard yanks. The horizon twists, Kaidan’s suit alarm blaring as he collides with Shepard’s chest and sends them both spinning.

Shepard cries out in pain but locks arms around him and holds on until they come to a stop in a smokescreen of silicate.

The Grizzly powers back towards them, machine gun unloading full bore into the thresher’s armored hide. The beast bellows, head pirouetting with lethal quickness.

Kaidan scrambles to his feet, hooking his arms under Shepard’s shoulders and pulling with everything he’s got.

“Come on, we have to go!”

Shepard cries out again, attempts to get up, then falls back in a heap, gasping in pain and bringing Kaidan down with him.

“Why,” he heaves. “You shouldn’t have…”

Kaidan wraps an arm around Shepard’s chest, prepared to drag him if he has to, even though there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. But before he can do it, the thresher vanishes below ground with a whoosh, earth beneath their feet shuddering under its torturous size.

The tank veers so sharp it nearly tips before righting itself and gunning hard in the opposite direction. Away from Shepard and Kaidan, away from the thresher, away from the storm. Seconds later the thresher breaks ground again, a monstrous silhouette framed by Sharjila’s unrelenting gale, chasing after the Grizzly.

Oh god, please tell me I didn’t just kill them.

The rattle of the turret, the tremor in the ground, and even the thresher’s ear-splitting shriek fade into echoes.

All that’s left is the wind.

Kaidan releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, though it comes out as a moan. Shepard sags back to the ground, still gasping, and the HUD alerts that Kaidan had relegated to his subconscious scream back to the forefront.

Alert after alert clamors for his attention until his head spins. Too many to fix, too many to take care of all at once—

One at a time. Triage. You know this.

Kaidan breathes deep.

“Suit,” Shepard manages.

“I see it.”

Left leg near the ankle. Kaidan repositions himself to get a better look. A thin piece of shrapnel juts out of the armor plating of the greave, no wider than a nail.

The split second of compression had been enough.

Shepard’s ankle is in pieces. His medical exoskeleton had anesthetized the area and initiated a power-assist lock to immobilize it, the reactive soft armor underneath the plating creating a seal around the breach.

Shepard grasps at Kaidan’s chest plate, urgency threading his voice. “Damnit, your suit.”

“I see it, Shepard. I need to get the shrapnel out so I can patch it.”

“Your suit!”

A chill runs down Kaidan’s spine. His eyes flick to the alerts in his HUD, heart pounding as he separates Shepard’s from his own.

Armor compromised. Left chest plate. Corrosion from unknown chemical composition.

He glances down, spots the blotch from the thresher’s toxic saliva eating a groove across the plating, about two fingers thick and twice as long.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

Just work the problem.

“It’s not through the outer plating,” he says with a croak. “Not yet.”

But it will be.

They stare at each other. Under any other conditions, it would be as simple as taking the chest plate off, preventing the corrosive chemical from reaching the reactive layer and causing a breach. But without protection from the plating, it could be a matter of minutes before debris from the storm punctures the soft armor.

The wind whistles, pelting them with more sediment.

Shepard’s leg had depressurized for less than a second and it had destroyed his ankle. Something gives on Kaidan’s chest and…

He wets his dry lips. One thing at a time.

“We’ll deal with it later. It’ll hold for now.” Hands shaking, he pulls up his omni-tool. At least in this mess, there’s plenty of material to feed the fabricator. “You start moving on that leg and the hole might crack open. I need to get that shrapnel out and patch it before we move. We have to get out of here while we have the chance.”

The PA lock might be enough to get him mobile. It has to be enough.

“Not before—”

“She led you right into a thresher nest. She lured you here, and I might have just sent our entire squad to their deaths to pull it off you. I have to get you out of here.”

Or none of it will mean anything. The captives. Beaudoin. Pendergrass. Aslany. They can’t all die here for nothing.

Shepard gazes at him in silence before nodding. Kaidan starts fabricating the patch, skimming Shepard’s vital signs. His heart rate is sky high, which is just as likely to be pain as it is sheer adrenaline. No fractures detected by the mexo outside the leg, but his breathing is labored. Could be bruised ribs. Could be worse. If he’s bleeding internally, it might not register right away.

No. Can’t worry about that. Not yet. Focus.

Kaidan shields Shepard’s leg as best he can to apply the patch, trying to keep the worst of the wind and debris out of the soft gel binding the patch fibers.

“How much pain are you in?”

“Enough.”

Admitting to any at all is saying something. Kaidan weighs the options in his mind. Shepard’s mexo is stocked with morphine, but it’ll make him drowsy. He needs to be alert if they’re going to move.

And what if he’s bleeding?

“Chest pain?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Kaidan’s hands hover before resuming their work. “I saw you hit the ground.”

Please don’t let there be internal bleeding.

“She rigged the bike. Her own fucking bike. Did you get her?”

Kaidan’s expression turns to stone as he leaves the patch to cure. “No.”

At least he has the decency not to respond.

Kaidan’s omni-tool beeps when the cure time is up. He couldn’t keep it free of debris, but it’s the best he can do until they find shelter.

“Think you can walk?”

Shepard grunts, then takes Kaidan’s outstretched hand. “Dantius was headed north. Must have some kind of shelter or resource cache that way.”

“If nothing else, sensors picked up some higher elevations about ten kilometers off. Could offer us shelter.”

It takes effort, but Kaidan gets him to his feet. Shepard swallows back a cry of pain, even with Kaidan taking most of his weight. He keeps the injured leg propped awkwardly to the side. After a few experimental hops, he finds a way to move with the locked joint.

Ten kilometers, and they don’t know what’s waiting for them if they can get there. The storm is just in its infancy, with no signs of relenting. But they have no other option.

So they walk.

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila, Location Unknown

Systolic pressure down to sixty-six. Heart rate inching just above one thirty. Shepard is ghostly pale now, beads of sweat on his brow, and he’s dozed off twice now. The second time Kaidan had to shake him awake.

Kaidan closes his eyes and thunks the back of his helmet against the rock. “I’m out of saline.”

Shepard’s gaze weighs heavy on him. Even bleeding out he’s the stronger one. If death ever expects Shepard to blink, it’s going to be disappointed.

“Kaidan.”

There’s something calm, quiet in his voice that’s more terrifying than the biofeeds. Kaidan leans away from him and digs through his medkit again. Maybe he missed something. Maybe he counted wrong and put an extra bag of saline in there on accident. Maybe. Maybe.

Please.

Shepard’s hand rests heavy on his arm. It’s just a weight. Nothing comforting in it, not with two layers of armor and thirty-nine atmospheres between them.

“Hey. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. It’s not okay. His systolic pressure keeps falling, they’re out of saline, and still nothing from the Madrid or Myeongnyang.

“Can we talk?” Shepard asks.

Dread stirs in Kaidan’s stomach. “About what.”

“About Dantius. About—”

“No,” Kaidan snaps. “We’ll sort it out when we’re back on the ship.”

“Ship’s not coming, Kaidan. Not in time.”

Kaidan’s eyes burn. He never knew how badly he wanted to hear Shepard say his name, not until now, when the implication is that Aslany, Pendergrass, and Beaudoin didn’t make it out and no one’s coming for them. Not until the middle of this living hell where it’s the only thing he wants to hear and something he never wants to hear again.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to tough it out. You’re a fucking N6. Act like it.”

It takes Shepard an eternity to respond.

“You angry with me is not the way I want this to end.”

It’s not going to end, Kaidan wants to scream. Instead he grits his teeth. “I don’t give a damn what you want.”

Shepard’s grip tightens on his arm. “If I’m going out, it’s not going to be with you looking at me like that. Give me that much, for fuck’s sake.”

“Give you that?” Kaidan exclaims. “After what you gave those innocent people back there? You think I owe you anything?”

Shepard doesn’t flinch, but his expression freezes like a pane of fractured glass.

“How could you do it?” Kaidan demands. “How could you kill all those people?”

“It was the only way to get Dantius,” he says, voice hollow.

“Who gives a shit about Dantius?”

“She was the mission,” Shepard argues. “You think her list of sins starts and stops with thirty captives?”

“You had a chance to save those captives. You of all people should understand what that would have meant to their families.”

The intensity of his gaze stands out even more against his sickly pale skin. “Don’t you dare.”

“You didn’t even look. What if—” He swallows the words back before they get out of his throat, but it’s too late.

Shepard wheezes, shivering violently, and lets go of Kaidan’s arm. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Come on, Shepard. Do you really want to tell me there’s no part of you that hoped one of the faces in that airlock was your father?”

“He’s my father,” Shepard says, voice hoarse. “Every single day I hope he walks through the door, like it was all some big mistake. But he won’t. He’s dead. I have to believe he’s dead, because I can’t live with the alternative.”

“What about the rest of those people? They were someone else’s parents. Children. Loved ones. And even if they weren’t, they were still people. You could have rescued them. Ended your nightmare for someone else. Instead you stood by while she murdered them!”

“Yes,” he admits, shoulders slumped in defeat. “I did.”

“On Torfan you didn’t have a choice. Here you did. How could you?”

The armor plating hides just how shallow and uneven Shepard’s breathing is, but the biofeeds don’t.

“I…have never pretended to be anything other than what I am.”

For once Kaidan wishes he had Shepard’s directed energy stare. But he doesn’t. That belongs to Shepard, and weak as he is, that fucking gaze still bores right through him like a bullet to the heart. No prisoners. Not for the Butcher of Torfan.

Did I really look at you and only see what I wanted to see?

“Then I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

“You self-righteous son of a bitch.” Shepard’s eyes flutter closed for a terrifying moment before he forces them back open. “You just think you have all the answers, don’t you? The galaxy doesn’t play by rules. More often than not, doing the right thing is how you lose. I do the right thing, people die.”

“People did die. Unless you want to call blowing an airlock at thirty-nine atmospheres the right thing.”

“It was the right thing. She gets away, she takes more slaves. She destroys more lives, more families. It doesn’t stop if she gets away.”

“She did get away!”

“Because I failed!” He grimaces in pain. “I fucked it up. I failed them. I failed you. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

Hearing him say it makes it worse. Shepard’s not the kind of person who fails. Someone with that much conviction couldn’t fail. Except he had. Kaidan had watched it with his own eyes.

For someone like Shepard, the price of failure is so high.

“I’m sorry,” Kaidan says softly. “You didn’t fail m—”

“Don’t lie to me. Not you. Anyone but you.”

Another suit alarm wails. Systolic pressure at sixty-five and falling.

“Shit,” Kaidan swears. He can’t run more vasopressors without saline. They’re down to hours now.

There’s one more thing he can do. He grabs the medkit and digs out his last coil of tubing.

“Give me your arm.”

“What are you doing?” Shepard asks.

“Saving your life. Give me your arm.”

“Kaidan—”

“I’m O-negative. We’re out of other options and you’re dying, so give me your arm.”

Shepard offers it without argument, eyes never leaving Kaidan’s face. Even through the dust and smears on his face plate they’re so sharp. So striking.

He can’t look.

Kaidan turns his arm to access the IV port as he establishes a medical override connection between their suit VIs. The seal releases with a snick. With steady hands he attaches one end of the tubing, then queries the medical exoskeleton to confirm the catheter from the saline drip is still in the vein.

He repeats the process in his own arm, then waits for the mexo to scan for the vein, grimacing when the needle finds his skin. As soon as it lights up green, he starts the transfusion. He can give up as much as ten percent of his own blood volume before he has to start making choices he doesn’t want to make.

It’ll be enough. It has to be enough.

Shepard leans his head back against the rock, eyes closed, breath reedy and shallow.

“Did you ever think it would come to this?” Shepard says through labored breaths. “You giving your own blood to save the Butcher of Torfan.”

“Stop it.”

“Dying here would be fitting, at least. Hell, you wouldn’t be alone in being a little relieved to finally be rid of me.”

I never want to be rid of you.

“You’re not dying here,” Kaidan says, adjusting the tubing and checking the biofeeds again. His heart rate is still over one thirty, systolic pressure still hovering at sixty-five. “If you manage to die on the field, it’ll only be because I’m not there. I will always save your life. Do you hear me? I am saving your life.”

Shepard cracks an eye open and lolls his head to the side to look at Kaidan. Sweat drips down his pale forehead. “Can you do something for me?”

Kaidan’s heart pounds. “Yeah.”

“There’s a recording on my omni-tool. In case something happens. It’s for Anderson. Can you make sure he gets it?”

“I won’t need to.”

“Please.”

Kaidan chews his lip, then opens his omni-tool. Shepard does the same, and sends him the file with a weary flick of a finger.

“Kaidan.”

“What.”

“You did everything you could.”

Kaidan eyes the tubing, and the steady flow of blood binding them together. “I’m not finished yet.”

“I know.”

Shepard slumps sideways, body going limp. Kaidan catches him with an arm, frantically raising the tubing out of the way.

“Shepard. Shepard. Stay with me.”

He stirs with a soft groan. “Yeah. Still here. Very…I’m very tired.”

Kaidan works an arm around Shepard’s shoulders, allowing him to fall against him. He lowers his head until his faceplate clacks against the crown of Shepard’s helmet. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

His respiration is fast but shallow. Kaidan’s losing. He’s going to lose.

“Do you remember the day we met?” Shepard mumbles.

Kaidan tightens the arm around Shepard’s shoulders, like a reflex. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I remember.”

“That…was a good day.”

“Shepard.”

His eyes flutter closed. “’m sorry. For all of it.”

Kaidan gently re-adjusts Shepard’s arm where it rests in Kaidan’s lap to keep the tubing from getting tangled, but Shepard grabs his hand when he tries to let go. His grip is weak, but Kaidan makes up for it with his own.

If you die on me I will never forgive you.

The minutes tick past, each more traitorous than the last. Shepard drifts in and out of consciousness, every biofeed marked with a red flag. When the transfusion reaches ten percent of Kaidan’s blood volume, an alert begins chirping. Shepard’s chest still rises and falls with shallow, rapid breaths, but he doesn’t stir. Kaidan closes his eyes for several seconds.

Then he shuts it off.

Art by bbegrille

~

04 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Macedon System, Sharjila Orbit, SSV Myeongnyang

Kaidan doesn’t remember his comms coming back online. He doesn’t remember the static or Pendergrass’s voice frantically calling his name. He doesn’t remember the burn of the shuttle’s thrusters, feet skidding across the rocks he’d worked so hard to drag Shepard up, Dr. Wendler’s calm, steady orders, or Beaudoin’s arm around him, helping him to his feet and onto the shuttle.

He does remember watching helplessly as they strip Shepard out of his armor before they even lift off. The numbers from his biofeeds stay burned in Kaidan’s vision long after he takes his helmet off. Beaudoin hands him a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, but he forgets to use it, just clutches it in his hand as Dr. Wendler gives Shepard another transfusion on the way back to the ship.

He’s so pale.

When they’re on board Dr. Wendler takes Shepard straight to the medbay, her trademark easygoing smile hidden behind a mask. Kaidan tries to follow her in – he’s the medic, he needs to help – but Aslany grabs him by the arm and takes him aside as Beaudoin runs a medical scan and Pendergrass shoves a canteen and a ration bar in his hands.

“You’re dehydrated. And if you don’t fuckin’ eat, you’ll pass out just like Shepard does.”

Aslany kicks her in the shin.

Kaidan manages a weak smile, and even takes the ration bar. But he can’t eat it. He can only watch the medbay and wonder if he’d done enough, or failed by inches.

Shepard is in surgery for hours.

There’s nowhere to sit outside the medbay, and Dr. Wendler won’t let anyone in, so Pendergrass drags over a chair from the mess for Kaidan and makes him sit in it. Beaudoin tries to get him to sleep, but in the end he, Aslany, and Pendergrass just bring over more chairs.

They’re alive. He hadn’t killed them. They’re alive. The next time Beaudoin brings him some water, Kaidan gets up and embraces him. Thankfully, the service chief doesn’t ask why.

When the medbay doors open, Kaidan’s heart pounds. There’s blood on Dr. Wendler’s uniform. Shepard’s. Maybe some of Kaidan’s, too. A surgical mask hangs around her neck, and strands of hair fly loose from where she pulled off her sterile cap.

“He’s out of the woods,” she says, in a soothing voice that belies the exhaustion on her face. “I stopped the bleeding and repaired the damage. He’s under a bone knitter now for the ankle, and I still need to reconstruct the vasculature and repair the tendons. Recovery will be a little rough, and he’ll be in here for a few days, but you saved his life, Lieutenant Alenko. He’ll be awake in about an hour, if you want to talk to him.”

Kaidan smiles a brittle smile and thanks her for the update.

Then he gets up from his chair and walks out.

~

08 September 2180, Artemis Tau, Hades Gamma, Interstellar Space, SSV Myeongnyang

Captain Oseguera is seated behind her desk reading a report when Kaidan enters her office. It’s not his report on Sharjila, because he still hasn’t written it yet, even though he should have had it to her two days ago. She looks up with a smile.

“Sit down, Lieutenant. Have some tea.” She gestures to a waiting cup, steam wafting from the rim with the scent of lemongrass. He takes a seat and the mug, letting it warm his always-cold hands before taking a sip.

“I hear Dr. Wendler let him out of the meday a little while ago,” the captain says.

He nods, not quite meeting her gaze. “I heard that, too.”

She leans back in her chair and steeples her fingers, scrutinizing him carefully. “How are you doing? That was a rough one.”

“I’ll have my report to you by the end of the day, ma’am.”

“Not what I asked,” she says with a small smile.

Kaidan exhales and buys some time with a sip of tea. It’s good. Reminds him a little of home, and a blend his mother always kept.

“It was rough,” he admits.

“I’ve read the reports from the rest of your squad. I’d like to hear what happened from you, if you don’t mind.”

His fingers tighten around the handle of the mug. He should have written the report before now. The delay isn’t from lack of trying; he’s sat down to do it a dozen times. The problem is, everything he needs to say doesn’t belong in a report.

After a few false starts he walks her through it, voice only wavering once, when he talks about the hostages. When he gets to the moment he left the Grizzly, he takes a deep breath, but recounts it as clinically as he can. When he’s finished, she nods, resting her elbows on her desk.

“That was a very informative report,” she says.

“Ma’am—”

“You went through a life and death experience, Alenko,” she chides him gently. “If you came out of it completely unscathed, I’d be worried.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She takes a sip of her tea, eyes still on Kaidan. “Corporal Pendergrass says you apologized to her on the shuttle.”

It takes him a moment to pull that memory out of the fog. “Yes. I did.”

“Why?”

(You’re going to leave us?)

He slowly spins his cup around on the table. “I shouldn’t have left them. I was the ranking officer.”

Her gaze doesn’t have the directed energy power of Shepard’s, but it’s still shrewd.

“You trusted them to do a job, and they did it,” she says. “Shepard has trained an excellent team.”

Kaidan rubs his forehead, but doesn’t answer. Kaidan hadn’t just trusted his team to do their jobs. He hadn’t thought about it. All he’d thought about was getting to Shepard. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was that transponder signal in his HUD.

“You disagree with the commander’s decision regarding the captives,” she surmises.

(How could you kill all those people?)

“Yes,” he says after a lengthy pause.

“In his shoes, I take it you would have accepted Dantius’ offer.”

In his mind he sees the boy pressed up against the glass. Were his parents with him? Did they all die together? Or had he been alone and frightened, his parents now forced to live with how close he’d been to coming home?

“It was thirty people.”

She rests her chin on her folded hands and exhales through her nose. “Tell me, Lieutenant. If you had taken the deal, what stops her from blowing the airlock once she’s out of your reach?”

He tilts his head. “We would have had time to free the hostages from the airlock.”

“Maybe,” she concedes. “But were there thirty spare hardsuits in that compound?”

“Ma’am?” he says with a frown.

“You said she detonated the inner door after opening the outer one. She had total control over that airlock. Those captives were not wearing suits. She could have killed them at any time, and probably would have.”

“I…hadn’t considered that.”

“Maybe you would have rescued them,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe you wouldn’t have. The point is, things are not always as black and white as they seem to be.”

Maybe. Maybe she’s right. But she hadn’t seen the way Shepard’s face changed. She hadn’t seen the Butcher of Torfan come to life right before her eyes.

(I’m not here for you.)

Maybe it wasn’t as black and white as it seemed. Maybe Shepard saw the board more clearly than Kaidan did. It wouldn’t be the first time. Shepard always stays three steps ahead of everyone he goes up against.

Except Dantius.

Maybe Oseguera is right, and they couldn’t have saved those people. The difference is, Kaidan would have tried.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ah, I know that tone,” she says with a hint of a smile. “It’s the polite way to say, ‘shove it up your ass,’ ma’am.”

“No ma’am,” he replies, expression softening.

She picks up her cup with a chuckle, and takes a slow sip. “I like you, Alenko. You’re good for the squad. They look up to you. And I don’t think it will surprise you to hear that Commander Shepard respects you a great deal. Which makes what I am about to ask you difficult.”

There are so few questions about Shepard that aren’t difficult. Maybe if he were just a commanding officer. But he isn’t, hasn’t been for a long time.

(Don’t lie to me. Not you. Anyone but you.)

Oseguera sets the cup down and rests her folded arms on the desk. “Can you still work with him?”

He stares at the cup of tea.

(I have never pretended to be anything other than what I am.)

(Then I guess I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.)

“There’s no right or wrong answer,” she says gently.

He meets her gaze head on. “I don’t know.”

~

The datapad with the transfer papers is clutched tight in Kaidan’s hands when he exits the elevator at the crew deck. He intends to go straight for the barracks, but Shepard’s biotic field stops him in his tracks.

Shepard sits in the mess, slumped against the back of the chair with eyes closed, the injured leg stuck out in front of him, an untouched tray sitting in front of him. Some of his color has returned, but he’s still pale, with dark circles under his eyes that look more like bruises. At 14:30 in the afternoon, the mess is otherwise empty.

At the intrusion of Kaidan’s biotic field Shepard looks up with a start, straightening in his chair. They lock gazes, but neither of them speaks.

Kaidan grips the datapad so hard it nearly cracks, and keeps walking towards the barracks.

~

Over the next three days, Kaidan repairs his chest plate and cleans and calibrates his armor. He spends a full morning re-fabricating the ablating and testing the hydrophobic coating over and over again. Anything to stop from thinking about those transfer papers in his locker.

It takes ages to clean the sand and the grit out of the shield emitters, sensor grid, and joint servos. He cleans it once, then cleans it again, all the while ignoring the crate containing Shepard’s hardsuit.

(Give me your arm.)

He can’t remember how much damage Dr. Wendler did getting it off him to run the central line. Maybe it can be fixed, maybe it can’t.

(I will always save your life. Do you hear me? I am saving your life.)

After he finishes the second cleaning pass, the diagnostic comes up green. No foreign debris found in the armor plating, the soft armor, the temperature control layer, or the medical exoskeleton.

He takes the suit apart, and cleans it again.

~

For three nights, Kaidan heads for the gym a little before midnight and throws himself into physical training. Tortures a bag. Runs the treadmill until he’s drenched with sweat and his chest burns. To hell with skipping the biotic control drills – he does those, too. When he can’t concentrate any more, he goes back to the bag.

(I have never pretended to be anything other than what I am.)

That’s not true, is it? Shepard is whoever the situation calls for. A leader. A sacrificial lamb. A hero. A…friend.

A monster.

Maybe Kaidan is as guilty as everyone else for expecting Shepard to be what he wanted, and not who he is. If anyone even knows what that is. If Shepard even knows.

(Can you still work with him?)

(I don’t know)

He throws another punch.

~

For three nights, once he’s worked to the point of exhaustion, he cuts through the galley on his way back to the barracks to refill his canteen and grab peanut butter crackers from his emergency stash. Each night, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Each night, Shepard sits in the mess with his back to the galley, shoulders hunched, gaze focused on the glow of a datapad.

Each night, when Kaidan approaches, the hunched shoulders straighten.

Each night, Kaidan keeps walking.

~

On the fourth night, he sits in his bunk at 23:30, staring at the blank transfer papers, watching the cursor blink in the first blank where his last name should go. Captain Oseguera had all but assured him if he filed the request, it would go through.

(Hell, you wouldn’t be alone in being a little relieved to finally be rid of me.)

It’s just paperwork. Paperwork that would change his life just as sure as meeting Shepard in a bar had two years ago.

The ‘Yang’s docking at Arcturus day after tomorrow. He could walk off the ship and never look back.

(You angry with me is not how I want this to end.)

He shoves the datapad back in his locker, and heads for the galley.

~

The batter hits the griddle with a hiss. Kaidan watches the edges bubble, humming to himself to soothe away the anxiety. After all, three days is a long time to stand someone up. There’s no reason to think he’ll show.

The hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Kaidan looks over his shoulder to find Shepard hovering in the mess, watching him with that opaque expression that gives nothing away.

Almost nothing. In two years, Kaidan’s learned a few things.

He says so much when he fidgets. You just have to take the time to learn what it all means. But he says the most when he doesn’t, and right now, he is uncannily still.

“Hey,” Kaidan says.

Shepard nods a greeting but doesn’t move, not to leave, not to take a seat. Just like the day they met on Arcturus, he’s waiting for Kaidan to make the call on how to proceed. Two years ago it had been a test. Now…it’s a choice.

Kaidan’s choice.

“Figured I’d prove my point about the pancakes,” Kaidan says, turning back to the griddle. “Sit down. They’re almost ready.”

Shepard does, eyes never leaving Kaidan as he neatly removes them from the griddle and slaps them onto the plate. Kaidan pointedly drizzles them with syrup.

“If I’m making them, you’re not eating them plain,” he says before setting the plate in the center of the table and taking the chair across from him.

A hint of a smile ghosts Shepard’s lips. Kaidan hands him a fork.

“Stopping at Arcturus soon,” Shepard says, carving a chunk from the stack and swishing it around on the plate. “Wasn’t sure if you were packing your bags.”

“Me either,” Kaidan admits, toying with his own fork.

They both poke at the pancakes without actually eating any of them, each avoiding the other’s gaze. It’s hard to look at him without seeing those vital signs in his HUD and the sweat on his forehead. The weight of Shepard’s gauntleted hand clutching his haunts him like a ghost.

Kaidan clears his throat, gaze still trained on his plate. “Doc said recovery would be rough. How do you feel?”

Shepard grimaces. “Did you know that severe blood loss really fucks with your kidneys?”

“Yeah.”

Shepard clears his throat like he’s going to say something, but then goes back to pushing pancakes around.

Kaidan sets the fork down and brings up his omni-tool. “I…still have your message for Anderson. Figured that’s something I shouldn’t keep.”

Shepard shifts in his seat. “Actually, if you don’t mind…I’d rather you did keep it.”

Kaidan’s hands hover over the haptic interface.

“If Anderson ever has to get a message like that, I’d prefer it came from someone who gives a damn.” Uncertainty passes across his face. “Assuming you still do.”

This time their eyes meet. Kaidan lowers his arm, omni-tool vanishing with a flicker of light in a silent answer.

“Can I...ask you something? About what happened down there.”

“Yeah,” Shepard says, as if bracing himself for another rebuke.

“Did you think she’d blow the airlock even if you let her go?”

He draws patterns in the syrup. “It’s what I would have done.”

Kaidan tries not to flinch at how easily Shepard can put himself in her shoes. “But even if you hadn’t...even if the decision was clear, you would have let those captives die to go after her.”

He nods slowly. “Yes.”

Kaidan sets his fork down and rubs his nose. “Even if you stopped her, and she never took another slave. You’d have given up all those people right in front of you to save others who are just...theoretical.”

“It’s a gamble,” Shepard concedes. “It’s always a gamble. There are no clear-cut answers. But there’s a big picture. I can’t just look at what’s in front of me. I have to see the whole board, make a call, and hope it pays off.”

“Even if you have to give up your own humanity to do it?”

“I, uh, hope it doesn’t come to that.” His lip crooks in a wan half-smile. “But I guess if it does, that means you don’t have to.”

“Why you? What makes you so expendable? Why does it have to be you?”

The half-smile fades. “I don’t know.”

That’s what scares me. You make yourself responsible for the peril of an entire galaxy, like it’s up to you to right every wrong, no matter what the price, and you don’t even know why.

But it’s who he is.

“Kaidan. It’s okay to walk away. I...understand.”

He says it like it’s nothing. Like they don’t have two years of...whatever they are, standing in the way.

A warning whispers in the back of his mind. You stay here, and there’ll be a cost. Are you ready to pay it?

Maybe he does owe it to Shepard. Maybe he just owes it to himself to try and bend without breaking.

(The galaxy doesn’t play by rules. More often than not, doing the right thing is how you lose.)

Maybe. Maybe Shepard’s right. But Kaidan’s willing to go down fighting, if that’s what it takes.

Because I can’t lose you.

Kaidan forces a wry smile. “I leave, who watches your left flank? You got blown up the second I wasn’t on your six.”

Shepard’s eyes flick to his before going back to his plate. The grip on his fork loosens. “Yeah. Without you—” He rubs his fist against his jaw. “I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. It’s what we do.”

“Still.” He draws more patterns in the syrup, until the piece speared on the fork is more syrup than pancake. Kaidan follows the swirls.

(If I’m going out, it’s not going to be with you looking at me like that. Give me that much, for fuck’s sake.)

(After what you gave those innocent people back there? You think I owe you anything?)

Kaidan winces.

“Shepard...I’m sorry. I said a lot of things down there that I...shouldn’t have. I’ve never had to make a call like that. I don’t know if I could. It’s a lot easier to judge something you don’t like when you’re not the one who has to go through with it. And you deserve a lot better than that.”

“Sometimes it’s easier to make that call than it should be,” Shepard says, staring at his plate, voice quiet. “Sometimes, being forced to look at what it really costs...matters.”

Silence weighs heavy between them.

Shepard hesitates. “Can I ask you something?”

“...Sure.”

“You didn’t have to come for me. Not under those conditions. No one would have expected you to. I didn’t expect you to. I...” he trails off, like he can’t give voice to the question.

Why did you come back for me?

But Kaidan is no more able to give him the answer.

Because I’m in love with you and I don’t know how to stop.

“Guess I picked up reckless decision making from you.”

Shepard huffs. Rather than continue pushing the syrup-drenched pancakes around, they both actually start to eat. They’re not Kaidan’s best work. Hard to make show stopping pancakes from a mix that only calls for water, but these’ll do for now.

They eat in silence. It’s not a comfortable silence, but it’s not…uncomfortable, either.

They’ve cleared the plate when Shepard looks up, expression solemn again. “There will be more Sharjilas,” he says, like he’s offering Kaidan one last out, and maybe hopes he’ll take it. Spare them both some future grief. “You know that, right? You don’t...have to go down that road.”

Neither do you. But if you’re going, so am I.

“Hm. For a road that rough, it sounds like we might need more pancakes.”

A mix of incredulousness and awe slips across his face, loosening butterflies in Kaidan’s stomach. “Yeah, we might.” He shakes his head. “You and pancakes.”

Kaidan gets up, plate in hand, to make another batch. The gravity well shimmies as Shepard gets up to follow. He stays quiet while Kaidan measures out more of the mix, but his biotic field hovers, a constant hum under Kaidan’s skin.

“Kaidan.”

He drops a dollop of batter on the griddle. A pancake mix that just adds water. His mother would be so ashamed. “Hm?”

“About…what you asked me down there.”

Kaidan tightens. “What do you mean?”

“If I’d have left you behind.”

The next scoop of batter spills unevenly and Kaidan swears under his breath. “Shepard…don’t worry about it.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

The griddle sizzles. Kaidan turns away from it to look him in the eye. 

“I just needed you to know that,” he finishes quietly.

“...I do.”

And it’s the truth.

The gravity well jumps as Shepard digs into it. “All of this just…pointed out a few things to me, I guess. Maybe some things are better left unsaid. Maybe some things aren’t.”

Kaidan turns away from the griddle to face him, heart pounding, mouth a little drier than it was a minute ago. “Like what?”

Shepard’s gaze searches Kaidan’s, inscrutable. “Nothing. Never mind.” He turns to head back to the table, but pauses mid-stride. “No,” he mutters under his breath. “Not nothing.”

Kaidan’s heart beats once in the time it takes for Shepard to swivel on his heel and cross the distance between them. It beats a second time as Shepard cradles his neck in both hands and presses their lips together.

On the next beat, his heart takes off at a run.

The kiss is desperate, reckless, and deep. Kaidan falls right into it – there’s nowhere else to go – and kisses him back like it’s a reflex, simple science, an inevitable chain reaction he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

He doesn’t want to.

Shepard draws him in until they’re flush, kissing him like they’ll both run out of air if he stops. It’s not until the griddle hisses and the scent of something burning hits Kaidan’s nose that they break away. Shepard blinks, hands still cupped around Kaidan’s neck, eyes wide.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmurs.

The burning scent gets stronger. Kaidan mutters a curse as he pulls out of Shepard’s grasp to fumble for a spatula, blood racing in his ears – trying to race somewhere else – brain in a fog as he struggles to kick it back into gear.

By the time he’s prevented the galley from catching on fire, Shepard’s gone.

~

It takes Kaidan a good thirty minutes to clean up the mess and pull himself back together. When he’s done he sits down heavily in a seat at the table, puts his head in both hands and exhales.

Shepard kissed him.

Kaidan had berated him, preached at him, done his best to punish him for everything that happened on Sharjila, and nearly filled out a set of transfer papers over it.

And Shepard had kissed him.

Not just kissed him. Swept him right off his feet. Excitement curls through him at the thought of it. He’s still a little dizzy.

Shepard had kissed him.

And then left. Like he’d regretted it.

Maybe some things are better left unsaid. Maybe some things aren’t.

This isn’t going to be one of those things.

He pushes himself to his feet and heads for Shepard’s cabin before he can change his mind, hitting the door chime before he can lose his nerve. Agonizing seconds pass before the indicator light on the lock flips from red to green, long enough that Kaidan wonders absurdly if Shepard had gone to bed.

He had almost died just a few days ago. Rest is…important right now.

But Shepard had kissed him. Kaidan’s not sure he’ll ever sleep again.

The door slides open, with Shepard waiting uncertainly over by his desk, fully dressed and on his feet.

They stare at each other. Despite the beating Shepard’s body took on Sharjila, his gaze is bright and burning.

He’s so beautiful.

“Did you mean it?” Kaidan asks, trying to keep his voice from wavering. He doesn’t succeed. “It’s okay if you didn’t. We went through a lot down there. Stress. Adrenaline. It can…well. It’s fine. I just need to know.”

Shepard’s eyes dart around the cabin, as if looking for hull breach he can dive out of. “I…uh. I don’t—I mean, I’m not…” He swears under his breath and puts a hand to his forehead.

Kaidan’s smile does its best to falter, but he holds it in place. “Don’t worry. We’ll forget it happened. Last few days have been eventful enough as it is.”

“Kaidan—”

Kaidan holds up a hand, the sound of his name coming from Shepard’s lips almost too much to bear. “It’s ok. Really. I’ll go.”

He gets one step towards the door before Shepard stops him in his tracks.

“The thought of you leaving was worse than dying.”

Slowly, Kaidan turns. Shepard stands still, those powerful eyes, so much like a two-way mirror most of the time, raw and vulnerable. Fear is such a foreign look on Shepard’s face.

“I’ve always been better on my own,” Shepard goes on, tremble in his voice. “I’ve always been fine on my own. But then you showed up.”

“Shepard.”

“You showed up,” Shepard insists. “You walked into that bar when I was hanging by a thread and changed everything. You wouldn’t let me be on my own. You were a stubborn, self-righteous ass who wouldn’t get out of my way until I got it through my head I didn’t have to be on my own. Then…I didn’t want to be.”

Shepard raises a hand, then lowers it, like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “I don’t need anyone. I’ve never needed anyone. But these last four days, waiting for you to decide if you could still stand the sight of me? I’d rather have just died on Sharjila. And that is scaring the ever-living hell out of me.”

Kaidan tries to swallow, but his throat is too dry. “You think almost losing you down there didn’t scare the hell out of me?”

“It’s more than that,” he says, a note of desperation in his voice that’s almost as terrifying as the grip of his armored hand had been in that cave. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’ve got no right to ask anything of you, not after everything you’ve given me. And not after…what I’ve done. But…I want to. I want more from you. I’ve never wanted more with anyone. So, yes. I think I meant it. I know I meant it. If I kiss you again…” A bark of laughter escapes his throat, a disbelieving, almost hysterical sound. “I won’t want to stop.”

Kaidan’s heart pounds. “So don’t.”

A look of agony crosses his face. “I’m not sure I can be who you want me to be, Kaidan. You…deserve better than that.”

“I don’t want better. I want you. Whatever that is, whatever it means. I don’t care. There’s nothing you could put in the world that would be worse than you leaving it. Don’t you get it? Shepard…Sam. I want you.”

“Kaidan,” Shepard says, like something inside him just broke.

Kaidan strides towards him. Shepard reaches out with an arm and hooks Kaidan by the back of the neck, pulling him in swift and hard, like the invitation has been open for years just waiting for Kaidan to take it. They crush their lips together, hungry, reckless, Kaidan wrapping an arm around him to trap him flush, their biotic fields blending with a hiss until Shepard is under his skin as sure as he’s in his arms.

“I love you,” Kaidan murmurs into his mouth. “I always have.”

Shepard makes a small sound in his throat, low, urgent and full of want, so Kaidan kisses him harder, hard enough Shepard takes a step back under the force of it. It’s only when Shepard’s back slams up against the wall that Kaidan pulls back, breathing hard, eyes wide and anxious. Shepard meets his gaze and exhales, long and shaky, before dragging Kaidan back to him with a desperate grunt.

Shepard’s hand finds his and he laces their fingers together, squeezing for reassurance. Kaidan gives it, he gives it tenfold, as if holding on tight enough will purge the weight of that armored gauntlet from his memory.

Because he’s alive, alive, Shepard’s alive, no suit alarms and biofeeds, no vital signs in Kaidan’s HUD, just flesh and blood and heat under his palms. Kaidan slips his free hand up Shepard’s shirt, reveling in what he finds there. Not the rough texture of his armor plating, just skin, soft and warm and pliant under his fingers.

As his hand wanders, Shepard’s drops lower and cups the curve of Kaidan’s ass. Kaidan moans into his mouth and Shepard tightens his grip, pulling their hips closer together.

Shepard’s hard. God he’s hard. Kaidan sucks in a breath that gets swallowed by Shepard’s mouth on his, then loses himself in the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart.

Kaidan raises their joined hands and pins them to the wall, before letting go and grabbing Shepard’s shirt with both hands. Shepard gasps and lifts both arms in the air so Kaidan can pull it over his head. Fuck Alliance fatigues and all their buckles. It takes too long to get it off of him, but when he finally does, Shepard’s lips are waiting and eager and Kaidan holds nothing back from him.

Take it. Take me. Take everything. It’s yours.

Kaidan’s hands coast over the planes of Shepard’s chest, the flesh of his belly, all pieces of him that until this moment have been off limits and hopelessly out of reach. When they break to catch their breath again Shepard tugs at Kaidan’s shirt until it joins his on the floor.

Kaidan’s been the subject of Shepard’s attention hundreds of times in hundreds of different ways, but never like this. Never with that look in his eye, never with his thumbs running across the line of Kaidan’s collar bone, desire lighting up his face like someone set a fire inside him he doesn’t know how to put out.

Desire for Kaidan.

Kaidan hooks his thumbs into the waist of Shepard’s pants and yanks, driving the breath from his lungs as their mouths collide hard enough their teeth clack and he tastes copper on his lips. Shepard doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, grinding against him with a low growl, fingers tangling in Kaidan’s hair. With a moan, Kaidan pushes a knee between Shepard’s legs and presses him back up against the wall, turning loose of his mouth to focus on his throat. As Kaidan traces a line down to his neck, he seeks out the bulge in Shepard’s pants and caresses it with a palm.

Shepard cracks his head against the wall as he throws his head back, mouth parted, breath coming short and fast. For half a moment his shallow, reedy respiration down on Sharjila threatens the front of Kaidan’s mind, but Shepard vanquishes it when he undoes the buckle of his own pants and shoves them – and his underwear – down to the floor.

Kaidan’s breath stills in his throat at the open invitation, nose buried against Shepard’s neck, fingers tracing the newly exposed muscle of his outer thigh with delicate touches, relishing in the way Shepard tightens in anticipation as he works his way inward.

Kaidan raises his lips to Shepard’s ear and murmurs, “I want you.”

I’ve wanted you for so long it feels like it’s part of me.

Shepard seizes him by the arms and whips him around so fast Kaidan doesn’t register their positions are reversed until his own back hits the wall. Breathless, Shepard rests their foreheads together, one hand roving up and down Kaidan’s side, until it comes to rest on his hip. A thrill of excitement runs through him, hands shaking as he fumbles with his own belt, craving the look Shepard has in his eyes when he drops his gaze, first to Kaidan’s chest, then his stomach, then the trail of fine hairs diving below his waistline.

Kaidan shucks off the pants, flush of self-consciousness flooding him as Shepard takes in the sight, fingers straying through the curls framing his groin.

“Wow,” Shepard murmurs.

God.

Shepard leans in and sucks along the line of his throat, mumbling between kisses. “I, um. I…don’t have a lot of experience with…this. I might not be, uh, good at it.”

Kaidan grabs him by the chin and tips it until they’re eye to eye.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be you.”

Shepard breaks free from Kaidans’ hold, leans in close and nips at his ear. “Good. Because I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

Kaidan shivers as Shepard’s thumb dips along the juncture of his thigh. His touch is electric, exhilarating. Whatever Kaidan’s pulse is doing right now, it’s a good thing there’s no biofeed to monitor it. He splays a hand across Shepard’s chest, not in resistance but as a reminder.

This is real. You’re alive, and you’re in my arms.

A groan slips from Kaidan’s throat as Shepard gets bolder, fingers grazing his length. Shepard’s breath hitches at the sound, but he retracts his hand and retreats to safer ground, heart thumping wildly under Kaidan’s palm. He breaks off the kiss, eyes filled with hesitation, exhale hot and heavy against Kaidan’s cheek.

“Is this…?”

Kaidan doesn’t let him finish, instead wraps his hand around Shepard’s and puts it exactly where he wants it, eyes nearly rolling back in his head when Shepard takes the hint and strokes.

“Please,” Kaidan whispers. Whimpers, maybe. Make me feel alive.

“Anything,” Shepard whispers back. “I’d give you anything.”

You. The only thing I want is you. He throws an arm around Shepard’s shoulders, breathing in the scent and the life.

Life. Living. Something they’ve never managed to figure out, not until it was almost too late. Now they’re going to learn.

Shepard presses up against him, erection hard and thick against Kaidan’s thigh.

“Sam.” Shepard’s name falls from his lips like it’s always been there.

Shepard pulls abruptly away, lips hovering just over his, gaze steady and filled with awe. “Say it again.”

Kaidan runs a finger across the line of his jaw, eyes locked on his lips. You are a lieutenant commander in the Alliance military. An N6. Son of the stars. David Anderson’s protégé. A phoenix on fire. The Butcher of Torfan. You are so many things. But only one of them matters.

“Sam,” Kaidan whispers.

Shepard kisses him like it’s his only source of oxygen, thumb slipping over the slick head of Kaidan’s arousal. Kaidan’s hips buck, lips parting helplessly around Shepard’s tongue, arm tightening around his neck in a silent plea not to let go.

Shepard lets go.

Kaidan gasps as Shepard drops to his knees, wash of cool air rushing into the empty space he leaves behind, but then his head is between Kaidan’s legs and time stops.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Oh, fuck.”

With each exultation Shepard’s mouth works harder, one arm wrapped around Kaidan’s waist while the other slips through his legs to cradle his ass and hold him steady. Kaidan clamps his fingers onto Shepard’s shoulders, looking for something, anything to hold onto.

“Sam.”

This time he definitely whimpers.

With every suck and pull of Shepard’s lips, every stroke of his tongue, it gets harder to stand. But any time his knees buckle Shepard holds him up, always, always, Shepard holds him up, even though Kaidan digs his fingers hard enough into his shoulders to leave marks behind.

“I can’t,” he manages, “I might—”

A whisper runs through his nerves as Shepard’s corona flickers, snapping tendrils bathing them both in a silky rush of dark energy. The mass-reducing field settles over Kaidan like a caress as Shepard rewrites the rules of physics to make him light as a feather.

“Oh god.”

He seeks out Shepard’s hand and grips it tight when he comes. Shepard takes it, takes him, keeping him on his feet as his hips rock and his body quakes, until there’s nothing left but the tingle of Shepard’s biotic field. This time when his knees give out, Shepard guides him safely down to the floor and into his waiting arms. His corona gutters out, leaving behind a whiff of ozone as the weight returns to Kaidan’s limbs. Kaidan curls into his chest, breathing hard and heavy, as Shepard presses urgent kisses against his temple, the shell of his ear.

“I never would have left you,” Shepard murmurs against his skin between kisses. “I’d burn the galaxy down before leaving you behind.”

“Sam.”

“I love you.” Shepard takes his chin between two fingers and tips it up until their eyes meet, his usually laser-sharp gaze muddled and soft. “Kaidan. I love you.”

Kaidan’s heart pounds. To hell with right and wrong and shades of grey. If Shepard wants to set fire to the galaxy, Kaidan’ll hand him the match.

“I almost lost you,” Kaidan says. “I almost—”

Shepard swallows his words in another kiss.

Alive, alive, you’re alive, nothing else matters because you’re alive and I am never letting go.

Kaidan drops a hand down into Shepard’s lap, fumbling until he finds what he’s looking for and Shepard groans into his mouth. No pain. No bleeding out. No last words, no apologies, no unspoken regrets.

Just euphoria.

It’s not long before Shepard starts to thrust into his hand, lip twisting in frustration when he can’t get the angle he wants. When enough of Kaidan’s senses have returned to act, he hauls Shepard to his feet and knocks him back onto the bed before tumbling in after him. They’re kissing again before their limbs are sorted, and Shepard’s fingers splay open, seeking out Kaidan’s with an insistence that won’t be denied.

But Kaidan’s other hand remains free, and he puts it to damned good use.

Shepard’s turn to whimper. He lets go of Kaidan’s hand and rolls onto his shoulder until they’re nose to nose, threading his arms around Kaidan’s neck, legs tangling together.

“Kaidan,” he gasps. “God.”

Kaidan slips his newly-freed hand between Shepard’s legs to palm his ass, eliciting a long, low moan. Shepard’s lips part, unable to think and kiss and feel at the same time. He buries his face in Kaidan’s neck while Kaidan kisses his throat, fingers dancing along his cleft. One dips into it, a test, a tease, a promise for another time, and Shepard writhes.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh, fuck.”

“Want me to go down on you?” Kaidan murmurs against his cheek.

His arms tighten firmly around Kaidan’s neck in response, breath hot against his skin. “Stay here,” he begs, voice shaking along with the rest of him.

Kaidan will stay there forever if that’s what he wants, with Shepard, Sam, curled in his arms, vulnerable and small, about to fly apart.

“I’ve got you,” Kaidan hums, kissing his shoulder, his chin, his collarbone, anything he can reach. “Just hold on to me.” You’re mine. And I will take care of you with everything I can give.

Shepard’s hips buck against Kaidan’s hand, Kaidan’s name tumbling from his lips. The air around them crackles as Kaidan’s corona unfurls, dark energy engulfing them in a halo of blue light, and Shepard’s sharp intake of breath is one of the most glorious sounds he’s ever heard.

Kaidan’s not quite hard again, but it’s enough to take them both in hand. When he starts to stroke, Shepard keens, entire body coiling like a spring. Shepard’s own corona snaps back to life, always a phoenix, always rising from his own ashes and finding his way home.

Home.

Shepard was right. Home doesn’t have to be a place, it can be people, because Shepard’s leg hooking over his hip is exactly where he belongs. I swear to god I’ll always be home for you if you’ll let me.

“Sam,” he whispers. “Come home to me.”

Shepard hits his peak with a cry, corona bright as a star, grip strong as iron. Kaidan takes him through it until he’s spent, body quivering against him.

“Kaidan,” Shepard mumbles.

Kaidan strokes his cheek and presses kisses against his skin, holding him close until he stills, so warm, so soft, so very his.

When Shepard’s grip loosens he extricates himself just enough to snag Shepard’s shirt off the floor as an offering to clean up. Shepard takes it with a hint of embarrassment, so Kaidan kisses him until it’s gone.

Once the shirt is wadded up and back on the floor, they settle on the bed, Shepard’s head on his chest, Kaidan’s arm draped across him, fingers straying across the musculature of his back.

“You ok?” Kaidan asks, voice low.

Shepard nods, fingers curling into Kaidan’s shoulder. Kaidan gives him time to sort out his thoughts, content to lose himself in the warmth of Shepard’s skin.

When Shepard finally breaks the silence, his voice is quiet and small.

“Is this real?”

Kaidan caresses his forehead with a thumb. “If you want it to be.” Please.

“I’ve never felt this way.”

“…Me either.”

Shepard lays his palm flat on Kaidan’s belly, then tentatively starts to explore. When his fingers reach the hairs trailing towards Kaidan’s pelvis, he hesitates. Kaidan slides his hand over Shepard’s, fingers hooking between his, and gently guides him forward.

“It’s okay,” Kaidan whispers.

Shepard runs his fingers through the downy curls, still cautious, but with a sense of awe that’s nothing short of euphoric.

“This is…very new for me,” Shepard murmurs.

“Take your time. Believe me. This kind of attention…from you? I’m, uh. I’m good with it.”

Shepard huffs. The small puff of air washes over Kaidan’s skin and he hums in contentment. Shepard looks toward him at the sound, expression soft, still a little dazed.

“I love you,” Shepard says simply.

Kaidan’s stomach flips. “I love you too, Sam.”

A self-conscious smile spreads over his face. It’s so new, so different, something Kaidan’s never seen before.

“You know, I hate it when people call me Sam—”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Shep—”

“—But it’s different when you say it.” He lifts his head up, then ducks his chin with that shy smile that’s nearly Kaidan’s undoing. “I, uh, really like hearing you say it.”

Kaidan’s lips curve in a smile. He strokes Shepard’s cheek. “Sam.”

Shepard’s flush deepens. “Yeah. Like that. I like that. A lot.”

With a gentle tug Kaidan pulls Shepard to him and presses a kiss against his lips. This time instead of frenzied and desperate, it’s deep and slow, filled with the promise of things to come. When they part, Kaidan gazes at him.

“You’re everything to me. Everything. I need you to know that.”

Shepard’s expression grows solemn. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

Kaidan draws him in for another kiss, just as deep, just as long, then closes his eyes and rests their foreheads together.

“You’ll never find out.”