Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The kiss is not deep. Just a brush of skin on skin, a breath tingling the nerves and teeth as Kaidan presses harder, comes closer, hooking his hand round the other’s neck. It is nothing about forgetting the past anymore, the last time he was with someone feeling this real. With pulse quickening underneath the palm, with the collar smelling faintly of soap and sweat, it is something entirely new. Something craved for so long, something Kaidan thought plausible only in his head.


Rahna was never like this. She did not look happily at him while he was blabbering like an idiot. In fact, she did not look at him those moments at all, rather drawing something or reading books in Turkish. She had sad brown eyes, hair falling in free rivers and waves down her back. Pretty little doll with arms made of porcelain. At first, he wanted someone resembling her as much as possible. With a glass figure, afraid of his true nature and with lots of others falling on their faces at the slightest flicker of a hand. Someone inconsiderate, either too big of a tease to see things or simply uninterested in relationships with others too close by. Someone out of reach at such an extent that people would start stuttering the moment they started talking to them. An idol out of his and others’ league.


The fingers are restless, inspecting every curve, grasping at every line Kaidan can find and touch. Each brow, the wrinkles, earlobes. Everything is solid and warm as only a living man can be, muscles flexing themselves underneath the veins and the pale skin step by step, slowly or erratically. Just a move of the tongue and the man is already returning the attention with fervor, the low hum of a chuckle stuck in Kaidan’s throat. Everything is so beautiful, even the eerie blue light from the aquarium.


The moment he saw the new commander, all these years ago, he knew he had fallen hard and there was nothing else he could do. He wanted to get to know Shepard instantly. Every detail, every story and every reason for the coldness and hardship in his eyes. The ice Rahna used to have, the same grace each of them carried themselves with, what was its source? Of course, a twenty-something guy and a seventeen-year-old sweetheart were nothing alike, even though both of them were so deliciously far away, out of his reach no matter how long his hand would twist and grasp at thin air. But then, the man started showing his face closer, letting Kaidan inspect every bit he was interested in. And Kaidan started sharing his burden as well, half expecting the illusion to fade away and stare at a beautiful face never really meant to be understood. There were cracks in the picture however, scars made by horror and fire, not just cold marble and two-ways mirrors. Shepard could smile and laugh, could joke and whisper. He bled and sweated, called out for help and thanked with a wink. His body was solid every time Kaidan helped him onto his feet and the one moment before Illos, Kaidan thought to himself that maybe, it was all real enough to give it a real try. By the time he got the courage and readiness to accept that maybe, just maybe, someone had finally taken notice of his equipment of flaws and virtues, someone else was already anxiously pacing at the door near the mess hall. Someone with bright eyes and an endearing awkward glint in them that no matter how hard he might have wanted to delude himself, was everything compared to buggy L2 implants and a mess of a head. Liara stopped for a moment in her tracks at the sight of him but Kaidan, well. Some things, no matter how real they might appear in one’s mind, are just, well. Things. Dreams better left not acted upon. He waved at her, appearing to have had forgotten to get something from his usual tinkering spot and later went to bed.

It was easier that way, even with the what-ifs plaguing his mind the whole night, with the bitter taste filling his mouth and the hollow ache behind his heart. It was easier not to listen and not to imagine things going on behind the closed doors, no matter how wild his imagination wanted those picture to appear looking. None of that stopped neither the longing nor the fantasies, however. Just like the hope that kept on blooming with every stray word he could grasp onto. A meaningful look casted in the corridor, a brush of clothing in the hall, a smile meant only for private use. The way Liara glanced at them, sitting arm to arm at the table, some kind of sorrow twisted into her features as if someone carved the lines with a knife.


Shepard’s hands are calloused, work and battle depicted in every line and drier parts of tissue. He mouths his doubts, hopes and excuses onto his skin, trailing Kaidan’s own marks with his lips and fingertips, stripping him down from every piece of clothing and previous insecurities. They both have moles on some remote places, paths made with muscles and their lines.


Maybe all of those little things were nothing but dust back then, nothing more than just dust but drowning man catches at a straw. There were these, these feelings, something he did not want to think about because more often than not, feeling anything more than the pleasurable void meant hurting. Being in love was not good, it was no happy feeling people talked so much about, wished day and night to experience. It was a battlefield, another one to add to their collection and as far as Kaidan was concerned, he needed none of that during a full fledged-on war whose beginning they were just witnessing. Feelings made thinking and strategy sloppy, dependable on the one person that should be shielded more often, should be protected at the cost of his own health and life. Because that was what love does with people like him, doesn’t it? And Shepard’s eyes were glistening with mirth when he scrambled from under the Reaper’s rumble, a true smile brighter than sunlight that nearly left him blind after thinking he had lost the chance once again.

And love was about losing, not winning. Losing to another, losing to unfortunate coincidences and factors no one really had any control over. When the pods were blissfully darting off to the unknown, Kaidan wished he could pray, imagine the good scenarios instead of the worst one just for once but nothing seemed to help. Another migraine threatened to begin and before he knew, he fell tiredly asleep. He had no dreams later to cling to when they hit some desolate moon and Liara woke him by gently tugging at his arm. She looked worriedly at him, her own tiredness hardly noticeable behind the darkish glass of her helmet. They talked some time while the other pods kept coming, both waiting for the most important one. Joker had troubles coming out so they both rushed to his side before anyone else noticed the arrival. The other seat was empty. There were no hiding spots, no evacuation exits, no safety places. There were only Joker and the emptiness. A void that suddenly made it hard to think and feel anything. Liara was sobbing, the sound buzzing in the headphones and driving him insane. Jeff tried to say something but kept losing the sentence’s beginning, kept looking at the sky and Kaidan thought he’d sooner break both of his legs before he would listen to any of his words. Of course, nothing of that was the man’s fault but if he hadn’t wanted to stay on the blasted ship, if he hadn’t been such a jerk so in love with himself, if he had known Shepard the way he knew him, maybe, just maybe… There were tears prickling at his eyes, Kaidan knew it but did not care. He screamed into the comm, finally, trying somewhat to shush the sound of crying with the voice of his own. It helped. For a minute of two. Later, there was only silence and the sound of deep, nearly suffocating breathing.



It’s hard to draw a proper breath without smiling like a complete dork. A slight smirk, yes, but such a sunlight bright, cheesy grin? Too bad Kaidan does not care about such details any longer. Shepard looks intently, his eyebrow cocked and the anticipation hanging in the air like mist in the morning.


Finally, he flickers his eyes to the side, glancing at their joined hands before muttering half to himself and half to the other, “I’m still wondering, you know, what pushed you into coming here. You’ve never been the dare-devil type as far as I’ve got to know you over the years, major. Why the sudden change?”


Kaidan withdraws away for a moment, his brow seeming to crease in thought as Shepard follows the source of warmth unconsciously, awkwardly resting his back on bent elbows. The light dances along the curves of his exposed skin, underlying the view. Blemished tissues of the muscles, taunt ligaments and scarred regions no one has ever really had the pleasure of seeing before, naked and glistening with sweat nearly as brightly as the luminescent hands of a small bedside clock near the other side of the room.


The funeral was one of the things Kaidan wished he could just get out of his head, bleach the hours out, get the memory out and tear it apart or just be able to close the eyes and see the inside of his lids instead of the blackness, the colour of the damn coffin. They all stood straight as a line that day, arm to arm, saluting. The dream team. Team Milky Way, the saviours of the galaxy, friends, members of one family with their father and mother combined in one body gone. Somebody had thought that getting a replica of that N7 helmet was a good idea and so the blood red armour glistened at the feet of a container as empty as Kaidan’s stomach felt like. The air was sultry, making it hard to concentrate properly on Hackett’s and Anderson’s speeches, something about courage and honor, bravery and a great mind, the soul of the whole humanity. A symbol. It became evident that moment (or maybe way before, rather the day they bumped into each other when he was still just a lieutenant and Shepard a stone-face commander, not a man to dream about) that there was no human being mentioned. It was and would be an ideal. A name to put on draft adverts and to list among European leaders during the second World War, Darwin and other brilliant but long ago dead people.

Joker was looking at him with a mix of sadness and pity, something he caught within the corner of his eye. His face was tired, skin tinted a shade paler and irises a deeper green. Kaidan wanted nothing more but to sleep. Not even dream, just lie in the bed and see whiteness instead of the grayish interior of the small Alliance chapel or whatever the place was meant to imitate, to run away from the faces known more thorough and the few never seen before. There were only a few officials present, a legend passing away in silence rather than with the biggest honors obtainable. The night afterwards he drunk in one of the bars, drink after drink, till nearly every male had Shepard’s moves and all the asari had breasts like Benezia. A quirky combination but it was easier than crying oneself to sleep, thinking about all the what ifs, than embracing the pain instead of laughing everything off and pretending he was okay. Because, well, fraternization was discouraged but in the end, nothing of any importance had even happened, right?


“I came here, because, ah. Well.“ In fact, that’s quite a tricky question. Why has he come in there in the first place? To see if things could be changed like one would hope for them to look like, to feel something new, to prove to himself he has the guts to make a decision to be the first one this time? Not to lose the chance the moment the fortune smiled at him with it in its hand? “Because sitting by myself, anticipating… Whatever, didn’t make sense. Huh. Not much has made sense lately but… This.” Words find their way slowly back onto his tongue as the memories roll forward, bit after bit as Kaidan observes Shepard, as he slowly touches each limb and comes closer once again.

Chapter Text

„What are you thinking about right now?” And Shepard’s lips are pressed into a warm tight-lipped smile. Baby blues are staring at Kaidan piercingly, trying to see something that maybe would have been better left unsaid.


Work for the Alliance was tedious. Go there, fetch this and that, report back. Bravo, you’re a great leader. Here, a medal and a new rank. Nice to see you going up Alenko, keep the good work up, maybe you’ll end up as an admiral one day when Hackett kicks the bucket, who knows? All of that felt so wrong. The uniform was not the right one, the new faces, people pouring to and fro, chatting, making noise, trying to get close. Share stories, make camaraderie, stay in touch. Get to know some members of the famous league, the priority Normandy team.

Everything fell apart. Piece by piece, a process Kaidan had not really paid much attention to before it was too late to mend things the way they should have had been. Liara was ever so sweet, writing messages from time to time but with each mail he did not care to even open, she soon learnt her lesson. Tali sometimes shared some tech materials with him but the contact broke off even sooner than with others, she joined the Migrant Fleet once again and blocked her Omni-tool. Garrus, well. He went his way, just like Wrex and was making the path he found most suiting. And there was also Joker left. Kaidan was ashamed of the silly feelings, of the selfishness of them but still, there was some dull pain in his gut every time he caught even a glance of the pilot. He could not look him straight in the eyes, not until some months have passed and his anger subdued at least for a while. Soon though the man went rouge and cut ties with the Military. He was being said to have had started doing civilian flights, something to keep his mind of track for a while and then the trace vanished. Not that Kaidan ever intended to follow the lead even if given one. It was just too much for a while.

“The good times and the- The hard times.“


The migraines grew blinding. For a while, even though everything went on smoothly on the surface, no depression episodes, no need for prescribed meds or anything, the pain showed the true state of things. He would grit his teeth though, lie in the dark for some time and try to face the world, able or unable to do so properly. In the end, nobody really cared what was going on with a soldier not meant to play the main role. A passer-by in the life of a legend, a face to catch on some vidlogs from various mission in the background, waiting, anticipating whatever would be thrown at him. He was a weapon, not its wielder. Nobody cared and neither would he, at least as long as it was be possible.

Drinking was so easy then, an ingenious method to keep the track of time somehow, to know where he was even though the percentages should have had the opposite effect. Then that crazy VI showed itself, Shepard’s face frozen in two hundred frames, saying things that held no meaning at all and yet made Kaidan’s heart ache. He bought a copy and watched it twitch and freeze during every other operation, listening to the voice patched from some forgotten audio files, swapped and toyed with by a rather unskilful techie. The shadowing should have been done differently, the pitch of the commends a bit lower and the matrixes should have been calculated at least five times more accurately. Who was he trying to kid though, it was the only memento left to look at, outside of the materials Alliance started sorting out and encrypting as not to show anything too compromising about the legend, a nice face to flash on the adverts. Not just for the military, some personalised for Kaidan specially showed magazines with Shepard on their covers, an avatar with blue sky eyes telling him to try this and that, go to a massage to have his tension relieved, to live a fuller life with the newest gadgets even the Citadel saviour would have found useful. And plump lips smiled some uncharacteristic grin, so cheerful and free that somehow, Kaidan wished the illusion could have been the truth. He wished he could have seen Shepard ever smiling like that, ever being at such an ease when he was alive.

“Huh, it’s been unforgettable few years.”


It was so pathetic. So fucking pathetic Kaidan sometimes wanted to quit doing anything and burrow his face in the pillow and just cry but there were things that needed to be done, reports to be sent and civilians wishing to contact someone connected to the legend. Anderson was always in the background like a good omen, keeping a watchful eye at him but Kaidan was still just a soldier, not a frontier everybody wanted once again to have. They built a statue of Shepard some months later and a wedding boom started, thousands of pairs pouring from every strand of galaxy to be able to kiss with the stone figure’s blessings. And yeah, there was also a scholarship on Earth for poor kids so that they could end up dead one day or bitter about not having fulfilled their life the way they wished they had.


“You’ve always been so focused on the work back then.”


Visiting already discovered worlds, getting intel on the geth and every post they could have missed before. It was humdrum and yet soothing in a way. No one really endangered by his lack of concentration, by looking at the things already seen once or twice in different circumstances and with different people surrounding Kaidan. It was good while it lasted. One and a half year later people from around him started to notice his withdrawal, not that anyone would question the quiet one’s judgement, seriously. Boys got round to some drinks, clapped him on the shoulder, said something about meeting new people, not staying with the old crowd all the time. It’s high time you met some doe-eyed doll, they’d say shrugging and smiling expectantly. He doubted whether it would ever be the right time again.

One day they brought a girl he remembered having met before, Chloe as far as he remembered. The evening was... Nice. She talked and yet asked not about many things, the two of them rather enjoying the presence of another human being than a possibility of making something work out of that one and later another meeting. She had such youthful eyes, innocent green that stood out sharply from round her pale face and soft hair smelling of delicate perfume. She kissed him good bye the other time, catching him off guard when sweet chapstick rested against his lips. He excused himself and tried not to bump into her on the Citadel afterwards. It was all too soon, fun while being fair but too soon.


And then some time had passed and those incredulous reports came flooding in. Cerberus doubles their activity in the Terminus system, people are vanishing, the Alliance has to do something now, immediately. Where is Shepard when people need him the most, what kind of leaders does the Military have now, idiots not leaders! And Anderson called him then, all the information twisting and simply not making any sense. You have to check it, Alenko, this sounds dangerous. Look, another colony has just vanished, the Council does not want to have its hands dirty, we’re on our own now. Like in the old times, right? As he was about to go find his unit, Anderson frowned, saying one more thing before flickering his eyes at the ceiling. It’s not anything confirmed but you have to be aware that and Anderson looked so uncomfortable Kaidan did not really know what to be ready for.

Shepard might be alive Anderson said after some time, looking anywhere but at him, being his usual self and yet not. He looked vulnerable, so tired all of the sudden but Kaidan paid that no mind any longer. He just stared at his hands for a long moment, wordlessly came up to the door and then closed it quietly behind himself.

Chapter Text

‘The mission was everything.’

The next few days he can hardly eat or sleep, all the less think clearly. It’s basically a never ending chain of moments whenever he wants to plan his next actions, staring at an undefined point on the ceiling or the wall, a feeling with no end and no beginning, some kind of a stagnation he has felt twice or thrice in his life so far. People talk, ask him question but before he orients himself that anything has been said at all, they’re already gone. It hurts to look in the mirror, to do anything round himself but Kaidan prouds himself to be a man accustomed already to feeling guilty and regretful, to thinking how many things could have gone differently, could have changed his life forever and yet… There’s always that another stray tide of consciousness begging to differ even then.

Fuck you, Shepard. Fuck you so much. It’s easy to say such things at loud in an empty apartment rented to be able to break without anyone watching, looking at the floor. Just not at the flickering VI, just not at an old helmet remembering the old days of glory, just not at his own hands balled into tight, trembling fists.

He doesn’t use the shore leave the way others want him to, he just stays in the mess hall picking at his food till the decisive push comes and suddenly his motivation is back. In the end it was the lack of attitude that got in the way those two years ago, the lack of cheekiness so many marines in the Alliance had, the rebel-inside all the regulations always have tried to shush down in all of them.  

Fuck them.

He still has a life to live, decisions to straighten things out or rather choose living with regrets, something standing in the line has only meant so far. He starts digging, starts searching desperately for some clues, for any answer that could preserve the hope that bloomed intertwined with panic Anderson’s words put him in. The fright slowly diminishes under the man’s watchful eye, under the pained smiles he sends him whenever Kaidan visits him in his hospital white cabinet of a counsellor to get more intel, to get some more time off to investigate, to shush the doubt that nothing he is doing now has any sense. There are rumours about Cerberus being involved, about Shepard running in an armour with a tricoloured sign, about the resurrected man travelling to and fro to gather some troops.

‘It’s true. I’ll never know what I’ve missed.’ Shepard says with  a discreet smile full of his own untold stories and thoughts but it’s still not as if there was a lot to have missed out. Especially when Kaidan feels the quickening of the other’s pulse, sees the regret masked half-way in the man’s bitter-laced words.

One day he gets an urgent message asking of him to get to the Wards  as fast as he can and Kaidan runs through the endless corridors of the Presidium, the adrenaline flowing in his veins just like when they were escaping from the Torian and its creepers, fear and giddiness fuelling his limbs to go faster than humanely possible. Even then though, he’s too late and Anderson’s frown on the comm vid might mean so many things that at first Kaidan does not know what to say. Wordlessly, the man sends some footage to his Omni-tool soon enough and logs out before Kaidan can even ask what the hell is going on.

It proves to be some security footage from a few of the many cameras C-Sec put round the whole area after the so-called battle of the Citadel. The picture is full of smudges as if somebody tried a few times to shush the signal but then grew bored of the child’s play and stopped trying altogether. He filters the vid, not knowing what to look for. There are groups of grumbling asari moving in the background, a few officers on their shore leaves, human clerks arguing with an alien. It takes Kaidan three watchings to notice something out of order finally, a thing that at first makes his heart drop into his stomach and then come close to leaping out from his throat.

It’s a talking together human trio, a group flickering a few times in the far borderline corner of the footage, a place that used to be the most smudged before clearing the film out. There are two men clad in darkish clothes and a woman in a white catsuit. She and one of the men wink at the camera at the last second they can be seen while the other one stares straight-forwardly, not seeming to notice the recording being done.

No one else has the same type of armour, that exact silhouette and such curved, close-shaved head.

Shepard, Shepard, Shepard Kaidan thinks desperately, gripping at his Omni-tool as the man limps forward, as he looks round himself, as he vanishes from one frame to pop for a split of seconds into another one. Look into the camera, please look into the fucking camera just once Kaidan begs him silently and then Shepard fleetingly roams his eyes round the area where the equipment has been installed. His face cannot be seen clearly no matter how much Kaidan tries to zoom in, just pixels and shadowy undertones of pink. As far as he is able to decipher the wording on the man’s chest piece though, he cannot recognise the dreaded Cerberus sign. There is something resembling it on the suits of the pair, however.

Failure, another failure once again. If he had been quicker, if he had gotten there in time, he could have said, he could have seen, he could have felt... Frustration makes Kaidan grit his teeth and want to punch the wall for the sheer kick of it but he just slumps his shoulders and goes on forward till the day comes to an end. It’s only deep into the night while the artificial Moon must be visible through the curtains if the Alliance had bought them instead of completely blacking all of the rooms out, that he lets his eyes water finally and think the situation over once more, for the millionth time already.

Shepard looked so lost in the footage, he muses to himself as a few of the newest recruits start to snore lightly and an older officer mumbles in his heavy sleep something about thresher-maws and acidic perfumes. As lost a child newly introduced to the world. Was he really alive or maybe it was a trick to play on Kaidan? Anderson would have never done anything that cruel though and so he banishes the thought almost instantly. What has happened to Shepard, what all of this could mean, why hasn’t he contacted the Alliance yet? There is that selfish question there as well, why hasn’t he contacted Kaidan? Or Liara or anybody else for that matter, they would have told him instantly if they knew anything, even Joker, right? Of course, Kaidan stares into the emptiness before him, into the darkness that twists and finally turns into those familiar baby-blues of the VI as he silently plays the recording over and over on his Omni-tool underneath the starry covers. He stored the footage away hours ago, snugly enfolding it within some encrypted folders under heavy passwords just like the source files for the VI itself.

Maybe it could all end up alright, maybe, just maybe he just got another chance to make things work out for all of them in the end. One more try, more courage this time though, more civilian courage and mutiny that once has saved everybody’s asses in time. Maybe that exactly is the key to obtaining the happiness in the end, no matter how pathetic and weak the whole phrase might sound in Kaidan’s head?