Work Text:
When James pulled Kaidan from the battlefield, leaving Shepard behind to run for the beam on his own, Kaidan didn't know if he could ever forgive either of them. Shepard, for always believing he can save the day, or James, for being strong enough to leave Shepard behind.
Kaidan sat glumly in the server room behind the med bay, studying the schematics for Edi's AI module without understanding, or if he was being honest with himself, trying to understand how the blast that knocked them out of transit somewhere between Sol and Arcturus could have also knocked Edi offline without affecting Liara's VI or the onboard systems not directly connected to Edi. Aside from the obviously fried circuits on one of her drive cores which had been swapped out by Addams the night before, her core systems appeared mostly intact. The android body she had puppeteered was ruled a total loss, as well. Why she was refusing to reboot was a mystery even Tali seemed unable to solve.
Kaidan had to admire how Joker was handling it. He seemed much more concerned with recovering Edi the person than he was with losing Edi the hot robot girlfriend. Kaidan wasn't sure why he was surprised when Garrus and Tali seemed to understand his attachment. Between them, Traynor and Addams, they mystery of Edi would be solved, Kaidan was sure.
What he wasn't sure of was what he was doing here.
Well, that was a lie. The dim red glow of the server room was soothing to his eyes, and the quiet a balm to his pounding head. His implant had gotten rattled again during the battle for Earth and subsequent crash landing, and he had had at least a low level headache in the week since. Dr. Chakwas had limited him to the lower decks after he finally woke up two days after the battle, cleared for light duty only, which basically meant paperwork.
When he complained, she very reasonably pointed out that he could barely handle the half light of the medbay, and his one brief foray outside had sent him into such migraine pains that he had retreated to the pitch black of a recovery closet for a full twenty four hours after that. He was, she had put it in her indomitable way, not fit for full duties.
His pain level now was the lowest it had been in days, but the ever present ache still lingered. Only half of that headache was physical. The other half was–
"So this is where you've been hiding out today, huh."
James stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he leaned against the frame. Kaidan couldn't help letting his eyes take in the bulge of his biceps, the way his shirt clung to his shoulders, before meeting Vega's eyes.
"Not hiding," he lied. "Just . . . Seeing if I can help out."
"Right," James drawled. Kaidan looked away, back to the schematics on the holographic display.
The silence grew long after that.
Finally Kaidan broke. "Did you need something, Lieutenant?" he asked without looking up.
James grunted. "I don't know, Major," he drawled. "Seems to me like you're the one who needs something."
"Oh yeah? And what's that?" Kaidan sneered, turning back to James, who stepped forward.
"A hug," James said, deadly serious. He held out his arms. "Come on, bring it in."
Kaidan froze.
James made a rolling gesture with his arms. "Bring it in, Alenko, come on."
And Kaidan, despite himself, took the three steps to Vega and brought it in. James' arms engulfed him, warm and strong and even though Kaidan was not a small man by any means, James still managed to make him feel like he was hugging a Krogan.
It was nice. Especially when James started rubbing soothing circles into his back.
"We're going to have to talk about it," James whispered into his hair. "What happened back there."
Kaidan clung harder, pressing closer. "I know," he answered. "I'm sorry. I just. I can't–" A sob caught him unexpectedly, and he gulped.
"Shh, shh." James' large hand cupped the back of his neck. "I didn't want to leave him behind either," he said, his voice thick. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done, following that order. But he was right. I could barely walk, and you could barely stand."
Kaidan shuddered as James unknowingly brushed his implant, causing both static sparks and sparks of pain to jolt his system. James must have felt the discharge too, as he jerked his hand away, back to the safe territory of his shoulders.
"Sorry," he muttered. "Does it still hurt?"
"It always hurts'" Kaidan answered. "Don't worry about it."
"Don't know why you can't get that fixed," James said, "but you do you."
They clung to each other for a bit longer, before Kaidan reluctantly pulled away. "Come on, let's go get coffee, then we can talk."
The Normandy had come down at an angle, giving the decks a disorienting tilt that made walking annoying if not difficult. The coffee maker, like most appliances on an Alliance warship, was bolted to the counter, and the cabinetry had locking doors to prevent complete destruction of the mess if a ship should unexpectedly end up crashing into a gravity well like a planet or moon. Kaidan allowed himself a moment to appreciate this design, even if he couldn't really appreciate the taste of the cheap shit they called coffee.
Still, he nursed the warm mug in his hands as he and James sat in the observation lounge. Its ablative shielding was still sealed shut, and the panels kept the bright daylight out of the room. Light sensitivity was one of the major triggers for his migraines right now, so that suited him fine.
He and James leaned back, the tilted deck causing the couches, also bolted down, to feel slightly more like cups as they enforced a reclined state. It made drinking coffee awkward, but resting easier.
They sat in silence a while, shoulder to shoulder. It felt odd, Shepard not being there. James and Kaidan had known each other separate from Shepard, of course, but the romantic angle had come only with Shepard to tie them together, the three of them meeting with Shepard in the middle. This was the first time Kaidan and James had to deal with how they truly felt about each other, separate from Shepard. Kaidan felt the weight of it in the base of his skull, the fear that this might fall apart if James decided he and Shepard were a package deal.
Eventually they finished their coffee, still without speaking. Kaidan, for his part, didn't know where to start. He wondered if James felt the same. He set his coffee mug on the floor and listened as it slid up the slope under the couch to the wall with a clunk. James huffed a laugh.
Silently, James offered his hand, palm up on Kaidan's knee. Kaidan took it.
"I'm just," he said suddenly, involuntarily. "I'm just tired of being rescued by him."
James squeezed his hand. "Loco's got a savior complex," he answered. "Gotta save the whole galaxy."
"And who's going to save him?" Kaidan demanded. "Is he going to make me live through his death again? Am I going to–" he stopped, choked on a sob.
"Hey, hey," James let go of his hand to pull him into his arms. "To be fair, you have a very rescue-y face." James nuzzled his neck. "Very damsel in distress." He paused. "Sorry, jokes are my coping mechanism. Listen, Kaidan. That's who Shepard is. And we don't know yet, he could be alive." James tightened his arms around him. "I know he's alive."
Kaidan had heard that tone before, and squeezed James back. "Yeah," he agreed. When James used that tone, it seemed so real. Shepard was alive, and James believed it.
"And listen," James pulled back a little, meeting Kaidan's eyes and reaching up, cupping his cheek. "I love you, too, no matter what happens. If Shepard isn't here to rescue you, I'll do it for him."
Kaidan snorted, torn between anger and amusement. "I don't. James. I love you too, but please, don't promise to rescue me."
He leaned back, smiling. "Hey, you can rescue me, too, if you want. I don't mind switching," he said with a wink.
Kaidan groaned. James pulled him back in, huffing a laugh and kissing him, before settling into a comforting hug. "Everything will work out, mi amor," he said, firmly. "It will."
.