AN: Not related to "I'd Like That" or "Dear Kaidan" at all. This one just flowed onto the pages, seriously. Practically wrote itself. I'm kind of...gah. I can't believe it wrote like this. No beta, any mistakes are squarely on my shoulders. Split into chapters because it looked better that way, rather than all run together.
I'm somewhat iffy on time frame-not sure how long it was between Shepard's awakening by Cerberus and when he/she met the Virmire survivor on Horizon, so I've made that up completely.
Warnings for character death, spoilers for ME2. I haven't yet had an ME2 playthrough end up this way, but I've seen the vids, and oh lordy. Thinking about Joker having to tell Kaidan that Shepard was dead not once, but twice just...yeah.
Disclaimer: Bioware and EA own all. Guess I didn't exactly return them unharmed this time, though...
Chapter 1 - Loss
"Kaidan, go. Now."
Shepard's words were echoing relentlessly in Kaidan Alenko's head as he and the rest of the crew in his escape pod waited for rescue, and the noise of her voice in his memory was deafening. Why hadn't he disobeyed her? Why hadn't he gone with her to try and make sure Joker was safe? Then he'd know that she was alright, he wouldn't have to be sit here consumed with worry, an awful sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Kaidan, go. Now."
There were no inter-pod comms, so he had no idea what had happened to Shepard after she went to the bridge to try and get Joker off the rapidly deteriorating ship. He hoped they'd both managed to get off safe. He hoped, may Ash's god help him, if only one of them made it out, that it was Shepard.
"Kaidan, go. Now."
He barely registered Dr. Chakwas placing her hand over his, couldn't even acknowledge her murmured, "I'm sure the Commander is fine, Lieutenant." All he could hear were those three words repeating themselves over and over again, until he thought he might scream from it. He hoped like hell he was wrong, that she was safe aboard the last pod with Joker, that he'd see her again soon.
"Kaidan, go. Now."
He just couldn't quite believe himself, even now. Somehow, he just knew. Shepard was gone.
"Shepard!"
Flight Lieutenant Jeff "Joker" Moreau was deafened by his own voice shouting over and over again in his head, and blinded by tears as he struggled to get himself into a seat in the escape pod Shepard had all but shoved him into.
"Shepard!"
She'd had broken at least one of the bones in his forearm, maybe both, when she'd pulled him out of his chair, trying to get them both to a pod before they were completely lost. When he saw her get blasted away from the pod, he'd tried to get to his feet, tried to reach for her, but couldn't make it.
"Shepard!"
Finally, he was able to push himself into a seat, able to strap himself in, and at last, there was something to lean against. He was still in agony, he'd broken more bones in his attempt to strap in, but he didn't care. He leaned forward against the restraint and sobbed, out of pain, of guilt, of fear. How was he going to face the rest of the crew? How was he going to be able to look Alenko in the eye ever again?
"Shepard!"
It was his fault. They'd lost her, and it was his fault.
Kaidan didn't know which planet they'd landed on, but it was cold enough to make him grateful that he was in a full set of armor, even if it was a borrowed set of that ridiculous-looking Phoenix gear from Sirta Foundation.
"Stay here, I'll go check for the other pods. Do your best to keep warm." He'd watched Shepard set off the emergency beacon, so he knew it could only be a matter of time before someone turned up. They'd already lost several in the initial attack on the Normandy, he hoped that they didn't lose more to the frigid wasteland they'd crashed on.
Pod by pod, he catalogued survivors, that yawning pit in his stomach growing with each successive find. He was thankful for the HUD in his armor's helmet; at least he was able to find them all relatively easily.
Finally, he reached the last and, heart in his throat, keyed the entry sequence to open the door. When he saw Joker alone inside, his knees wouldn't hold him up any longer and he dropped to the pod's floor, that yawning emptiness inside his stomach spreading to overtake his entire body.
He didn't need to hear Joker say it. Shepard was gone.
Joker had no idea how long it had been since Shepard had (gotten herself spaced) shoved him into a pod, but he didn't think he had anymore tears to cry. His ribs ached from getting himself into the chair in the first place, from being strapped in by a metal bar, but mostly from the guilt-ridden sobs that had racked his body.
Beyond the ache in his ribs and the hoarseness of his throat, he felt nothing. Not the bone-grinding jolt when the escape pod landed, not the cold that began seeping through the pod's metal walls, not the crushing emotional weight of the loss of his Commander. He was empty.
Dimly, he heard someone keying the code for entry into the pod, but he couldn't bring himself to look up. It was almost certain to be Alenko, the one person that he didn't want to face, but the one person that he felt like he owed answers to.
When he heard the crash of Alenko's armor hitting the pod's flooring, he spoke, forcing the words past his tightening throat. "She's gone."
Those were the only words he could say. They'd lost her, and it was his fault.
