Even after everything that had happened between them, it was still unbearably painful for Shepard to see Kaidan like this: battered, bruised, and altogether looking like he'd been through hell. Sitting there in the small hospital room at his bedside, it was readily apparent just how close she'd come to losing him on Mars.

But then, too, there was his expression. Something wasn't right there, and she could see it in his eyes, black and blue as they were. Imani was good at reading people in general, but this was Kaidan, a man she'd once had a closeness with that rivaled any relationship she'd ever had. Even in so short a time. Kaidan was like an open book to her, for all that he'd held back in the past, and always had been.

Their banter had been polite enough, if a bit stiff-a sight better than what went down in the Prothean archives, certainly. There was still that distance between them though, as wide a gulf as had ever been since that awful day on Horizon. The way he looked at her, eyes full of regret...it was hard to take. But Imani felt she owed it to him, at least. And he was still holding back, just like he used to when they first met.

"Is there something else?" she asked him, already having a sense of the answer. Kaidan shifted in his bed, his eyes darting downward in just a moment of hesitation, and it was as much confirmation as anything he could have said. She mentally braced herself for what was to come.

"Garrus came by to see me, before you got here," he said, a hint of tension growing in his brow.

"Oh?" Imani asked, her tone even.

"Yeah, he wanted to see how I was doing. It was good seeing him in one piece, after hearing about Palaven." Kaidan paused, and there was that hesitation in his body language again. He glanced away, staring at something on the other side of the room. "But it was kinda funny, he couldn't stop talking about you. Reapers tearing his homeworld apart, as bad as anything we saw on Earth...and he couldn't stop talking about you."

Imani sighed, her suspicions painfully confirmed. This talk was bound to happen sooner or later after all, especially since Garrus' return to the Normandy. Maybe it was better that it happened sooner rather than later, but his sickbed wasn't exactly the place she wanted to do this. She didn't think it was fair to him to have to deal with this on top of trying to get well. Kaidan wasn't going to let it go, though. That much was clear, and when he turned back to look at her again, his eyes locked on hers, the expression of anguish on his face was almost too much to bear. "Was there something between you and Garrus?" he asked softly.

"Kaidan, I don't think this is really the time or place for that discussion. You're hurt, and you need to focus on getting better," she replied.

"I'm not a broken bird, Shep," Kaidan retorted. "I can take a little heat if it means you're gonna be straight with me. And I need to know, for my own peace of mind. I can't exactly focus on getting better with this eating away at me, y'know?"

He did have a point. Imani sighed again, rubbing her temples. "Kaidan, I'm sorry. I was going to tell you, but then you got hurt on Mars. It's just that we were so far apart-physically. And after our fight on Horizon..."

Kaidan frowned a little, and nodded. "Yeah, I'll own that. Man, seeing you alive sent me spinning...and I handled it badly. I'm sorry, Imani." He reached out from the bed then, to take her hand in his. "I just want you to know that, for me, there isn't anyone else. And I still care."

She blinked. Clearly some wires were getting crossed, here. "Kaidan?" she said in mild surprise, gently sliding her hand away.

"Didn't you get my e-mail?" he asked, his head tilting, eyes narrowed in confusion.

Imani nodded. "Yeah, I did. But you basically broke up with me on Horizon, and it read like you were just apologizing for how you did it. I mean, you'd moved on, yourself...what about that doctor you went out with?"

"That's not-we'd just had drinks a couple of times, it wasn't anything serious at all. You got spaced, Imani. I spent two years so depressed I didn't want to get out of bed sometimes. I was just trying to get my head on straight. I know things got heated on Horizon, but can't we just get past that?"

"Kaidan, I don't blame you for moving on. Yeah, it stung...but I was dead," Imani said, and that phrase had never stopped being weird to her, even half a year and more after she'd come back. "And believe it or not, I understood where you were coming from about Cerberus. I just wish you'd given me a chance to explain, that was what hurt me. And what was I supposed to do? I was out running the Terminus Systems, trying to prepare for a suicide mission through a relay no one had ever come back from. I couldn't sit around wringing my hands over what you'd said, I had work to do. Those colonists were counting on me, and I had to focus on the Collectors."

"...maybe I deserved that," Kaidan sighed. "And for what it's worth, I guess I understand. I can't really fault you for having a fling or two in the middle of a tough mission, to get your mind off things. Especially if you didn't think you'd see the other side of it. Things can get a little crazy when you think you don't have time left, and we're all human-relatively speaking. I understand, and I forgive you. I just...can't things just go back to the way they were?"

Imani swallowed hard, doing everything she could to bury the slow rising anger within her. He didn't understand. He honestly thought that he could just say those things to her on Horizon, issue a half-assed apology by e-mail a week later, and then pick up with her like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn't really ended it? The way he was talking, it was almost as though he thought she cheated on him, rather than moving on with her life after he'd broken up with her.

What kind of painkillers did they have him on?

She almost wanted to scream. Had he even stopped to consider things from her point of view? Had he even tried? Maybe it was easier for him to deal with her sudden and inexplicable return by focusing on his own feelings and casting her in the narrative to fit. Commander Shepard, rogue Spectre, gone for two years and re-emerged an agent of the most notorious human terrorist organization in the galaxy. Best case scenario, her convictions and heart for protecting the innocent were being used against her and she was being manipulated into doing Cerberus' dirty work. Worst case, she really had gone bad. Either way, she couldn't be trusted.

Imani understood it. That construct was easier to grasp than the Occam's Razor explanation that she really had been dead for two years and unable to contact him. That didn't mean it didn't infuriate her any less, and it didn't mean she was any less hurt that he couldn't even allow her the opportunity to give her side of the story. His love felt conditional, and it stung. The lack of trust really stung. She felt betrayed, and she didn't know how she could get that across to him.

"Garrus wasn't a fling, Kaidan. This wasn't some rebound thing because I was hurt," Imani said indignantly. "Garrus and I have something real, as real as you and I ever had. When Cerberus brought me back, I'd spent two years out of time, and the whole galaxy had moved on without me," she continued, and she dabbed at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie. "Two years. I was so damn lost, Kaidan. Nothing felt real, and I was so alone. Gods I felt alone. Joker and Dr. Chakwas were there, sure, but even if I wanted to confide in them the way I did with you, every inch of that ship was bugged. Cerberus had me over a barrel. Seeing Garrus again in Omega...it was like someone threw me a line when I was drowning. He was there for me, Kaidan. In ways you made pretty clear on Horizon that you didn't want to be, or couldn't be anymore. And he trusted me enough to walk into hell with me, no questions asked. You have no idea what that meant to me."

The long silence that she got in response said everything, really; Kaidan had trouble looking her in the eye. But watching the storm of emotions play out across his battered face was instructive to her. It was like someone turned on a light for him, and he was stumbling in from the dark. There was sadness, and a kind of understanding. The beginnings of the stages of grief. It was so painful to watch, she had to be honest with him, if he was going to be able to move on. He needed to know what happened and why things could never be as they once were between them. Why there couldn't ever be another night like the one before Ilos.

"It wasn't cheating to you because you thought it was over. I messed up and gave you the wrong signals. I get it, now. Wish to hell that I didn't, but I get it," he finally said, his voice quiet. He paused for a moment, then continued, his tone a bit more accusatory. "But I heard rumors about you and some assassin too. Just...level with me, Shep. If you feel that way about Garrus, then how...? I mean, an assassin, really?"

"His name's Thane," Imani snapped, with a little more venom than she'd intended. Her irritation had gotten the better of her for a moment, and she took a breath, letting it pass. "He was one of the specialists I recruited for the team, and he's damned good at what he does-he saved my life more times than I can count. He means a lot to me, too. Despite what he does for a living, he's a good man. He didn't even take payment for his contract with us."

"But he's a professional killer," Kaidan pressed. "I mean, he's a hitman. How do you figure someone that gets paid to kill people is still a good person?"

"Last time I checked Kaidan, that was in our job description too," she pointed out. "We don't exactly get paid to plant flowers."

"That's different, Shepard," Kaidan said sharply. "We're soldiers, not mercenaries. We work within a code of ethics and regulations, we don't just kill for money."

"So does Thane. He comes from a different culture than us, and his beliefs are different, but that doesn't mean he's any less ethical than we are. He's done things he regrets, sure, which is why he joined up with us. All he wants is to make the galaxy a better place, the same as you and I," Imani said, deliberately not explaining why that was. That brutal truth was too painful to speak aloud, and the last thing she wanted was to lose it in front of Kaidan. She had to keep it together if they were going to get through this.

"You say these things, and it's almost like I can believe them," Kaidan said. "But I still don't get what you could see in someone like that. How you could trust someone like that."

"Because we understand each other, Kaidan. Gods, he's really been through a lot in his life. Maybe that's why we connected the way we did. I found a kindred soul without even really meaning to. And I care about him, he was no more a fling than Garrus. I may not have known him as long, but he had my back just the same, and he's come to mean a lot to me."

"...alright." Kaidan's tone turned flat when he spoke again, and there was more than a little condemnation in it. "I guess I just don't get you though, Shepard. If Garrus is so important to you, why would you pursue something with Thane? How do you say that you care so much about one person but then this other one means so much to you, too? I just don't understand that. Something's gotta give, at some point. And you've got to make a choice about what's-who's really important to you."

Deja vu all over again, for Imani. Suddenly there were shades of three years earlier, but instead of a hospital bed, it was the old Normandy's comm room, and instead of Thane and Garrus, it was Liara at issue. Imani buried her face in her hands. This, more than anything, was why it was never likely to work with him, even if circumstances hadn't forced them apart. Kaidan, bless him, could never make sense of her polyamorous leanings. Nothing she could ever say would make him make grasp how her heart worked. He'd believed she was leading him and Liara on, when that couldn't have been further from the truth. He'd thought Liara was a fling, too.

"I guess I've just never seen love as a zero sum game," Imani replied. "Caring about one person doesn't mean I care for another any less. A parent loves more than one kid, people have more than one friendship, but romantic love has to be rationed out like medi-gel? It's never made sense to me. Maybe because my parents were hippies, I don't know. But falling for Thane didn't mean I somehow had fewer feelings for Garrus or less intense ones. It just meant I had that many more to give."

"Seems like I've heard this song before, Imani," Kaidan said, quirking an eyebrow. "The words sound awfully familiar, anyway."

"Yeah. And they were true then, too. But you'd made your boundaries clear, and I respected that. You couldn't deal, so I let Liara go. Doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell," she said. "I didn't want to go through that again, and I didn't want to put Garrus and Thane through it either. Especially not with a suicide mission looming over us."

The truth was that Imani had never quite gotten over what happened with Kaidan and Liara. She'd tried her damnedest to bury her developing feelings for the asari, for Kaidan's sake, but being forced to choose between them tore her up inside, and were she to be brutally honest, there was a small part of her that still resented him for making her do it. Imani had been raised to believe that love didn't mean ultimatums and possessiveness.

Kaidan snorted in derision, shaking his head, his eyes full of incredulity, narrowing in that telltale squint that meant things were threatening to go downhill in a hurry; that the passive-aggression was sliding into rare actual aggression. "So what'd you do? D'you just sweet talk them into going along with you, or...?"

Her jaw set, her nostrils flared slightly, and her fingers flexed in her lap. But she wasn't going to rise to the bait. She couldn't. "I had a long talk with each of them, just laying out how I felt, and seeing where they stood. They were pretty reasonable about working something out. Everyone's needs were being met, which was the important thing," she answered coolly. "They're fine."

"You always want it both ways, Imani." Kaidan's tone turned decidedly bitter. "You're always going on about not cutting corners, doing the right thing instead of the easy thing, but then you get behind closed doors, and you're so-you're so fickle. You do all that sweet-talking and get people wrapped around your pretty little finger. Did that night before Ilos mean anything at all to you, or was that just your way of finding a little comfort with a warm body? Was I just another notch on your bedpost? Were you thinking about Liara when we-"

"Kaidan." She took a deep breath, pursing her lips, and tried to keep herself as steady as possible. She wasn't going to raise her voice. She wasn't going to do anything but remain as civil as she could. This wasn't the time to rehash old arguments. If that meant he had to vent, so be it. "Please don't do this."

"I want the truth, Imani," Kaidan demanded, his own nostrils flaring. "Did I ever mean anything at all to you? Because you damn well meant everything to me. And then you were gone and none of that mattered. You threw away what we had like it was nothing and went off screwing around with a couple of guys, one you'd barely just met at that. Is that how little I meant to you?"

"Dammit Kaidan, I loved you," Imani retorted, her calm demeanor finally cracking under the pressure. "But you pushed me away, and what was I supposed to do, throw aside people who had real feelings for me-guys who trusted and believed in me-on the off chance you'd change your mind and come back to me? What do you want from me? Do you want me to sit here and wail and beat my chest about what an awful woman I was for falling in love again instead of waiting for you to get your head out of your ass?" She stopped herself, almost as soon as the words tumbled out. They came from a place of pent up frustration, certainly, but she didn't mean to go there like that. This wasn't about kicking him when he was already down. And Kaidan's expression was one of shock, of deep hurt, as if she'd physically slapped him across the face.

She took another long, deep breath. "I'm sorry. I just-"

"No. I think maybe I deserved that," he interrupted her, quietly. "I shouldn't have said those things, I'm sorry. When I told you about Rahna, you didn't judge me at all. You don't deserve any less in return." Kaidan looked away again, and closed his eyes with a grimace. "God, I'm an idiot sometimes."

"We all have our moments. It's okay."

Tension hung in the air for a long, awkward silence. The wall that had risen between them was as tall and seemed as insurmountable as it had ever been. "...you've changed, Shepard," he finally said softly, and it was less an accusation than a statement of fact, faintly tinged with a sense of regret. Maybe even acceptance. "And maybe I haven't. Maybe that's my problem, I dunno."

"Nobody's perfect." Imani reached over and gently rested a hand on his brow. "Dying has a way of changing you. I don't recommend it, even if the new perspective on things helps. Getting a second chance made me realize what was really important."

"I wasn't looking to try it, really," he sighed, grasping her outstretched arm. "Wish I had the second chance though, if it's all the same."

"I'll always love you, Kaidan. I meant every word I said to you. We've been through a hell of a lot together. Ilos did mean everything to me, even if you don't believe it. But a lot's happened since then, and..." She let the sentence trail off, not really knowing what else to say. How do you tell someone you love that things can never go back to the way they once were? Even Imani, silver-tongued as she was, couldn't know what to say.

"Yeah." He sounded a bit broken, then, and she wanted very badly to hug him.

"You wanted the truth, Kaidan. And I owed it to you."

"I know. Thanks. I mean, I appreciate you being straight with me, Imani. It hurts, yeah, but it's good putting everything on the table. For what it's worth, I'm sorry for being such an ass about it. I still wish we could get past this, get past Horizon...be friends again, at least. I miss that."

"I do too, Kaidan. I'm willing to bury Horizon-I mean, I got past it. But if we're going to get through this, I need you to respect that this is where I'm at right now. I'll always cherish the time we spent together. It's just...it's not going to be like that again, for us. And we can't be friends again unless you accept that."

Kaidan squeezed her arm, and that one small gesture seemed as much his way of saying goodbye as anything. "I'm not gonna pretend that I'm okay with it. Wounded pride, you know? And you know I can't lie for anything. But I copy, Commander. Message received, loud and clear. It stings, yeah, but I'll get over it. There's too much at stake now with this war going on to carry this kind of stuff around."

"Yeah," Imani agreed, gently patting his brow before taking her hand away. "We still need you in the fight, Major. And don't think becoming a Spectre will get you out of duty on the Normandy, either."

"You really sure about that, Shepard?" Kaidan raised his eyebrows. "I mean, all things considered, maybe it's better if I don't come back."

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?," she balked. "You're one of the best damn officers I know, and we could really use you on board. Especially with your skillset."

"I just thought with Garrus around...things could get a little weird," Kaidan admitted sheepishly.

"Don't be silly," Imani scoffed. "You said so yourself, there's a lot at stake. Too much is riding on this mission for anyone to get caught up in petty relationship drama, and I think we can all be adults about this." Her expression turned mildly impish then, in an attempt to break up some of the tension. "Besides, the Normandy's just not the same without its second best human biotic."

The face Kaidan made in response to her good-natured teasing was hilariously indignant as it always was, a quirked upper lip and pinched nose. "Second best?"

"Just sayin'. I can phase through solid objects." Imani grinned at him, and his expression turned dubious.

"Really. With all due respect, Commander, you're good-the best L3 I've ever seen-but even you can't spike that high with an L3."

"L5. L5n, if you want to get technical. Humpty Dumpty got a few upgrades when they put her back together again."

Kaidan's eyes went wide in shock and amazement. "How the heck'd you get one of those? They were still in R&D when the old Normandy got attacked. Top level clearance."

"Working with Cerberus did have its perks. Having an asari justicar to train with didn't hurt, either." Imani glanced down at her fingernails, adding nonchalantly, "I can float now."

"You can...float?" Kaidan blinked.

"Yep."

"Wow. Maybe I should have come with you to fight the Collectors after all, sounds like I missed out on some new tricks," he said with a little laugh.

Imani's omni-tool suddenly blinked, the familiar chime sounding to signal a new message-an encrypted one, and she looked a bit nervous until she realized it was sent through the same proxy Thane used in his message from earlier. She looked at the time-1400 hours. It was nearly time for her to meet him for lunch, and there were butterflies in her stomach. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to eat, at this rate.

For his part, Kaidan looked much better than he had when she first walked into this hospital room. Venting seemed to help, and talking things through appeared to have improved his demeanor considerably. The hurt was still evident in his eyes-that was to be expected. But the fact that he was joking with her again put Imani a bit at ease. He was going to be okay. He'd kick himself, like he always did, but he wouldn't become withdrawn again. Maybe they could salvage some kind of friendship, after all. Times were hard enough, and she had a feeling she'd need all the friends she could get before this was all over.

"I should go, I've gotta grab some lunch. Get better, Kaidan. And that's an order, 'cause we're cracking open that whiskey when you get back. Human Spectre tradition."

Kaidan smiled, laughing a bit in spite of himself, and saluted despite the fact that he was technically higher rank now. Some things never changed. "Yes, ma'am."

Imani returned both his smile and salute, patting him on the shoulder one last time before rising to her feet and returning the chair to its corner of the room. As she passed through the door back to the bustling hallway, the smile didn't fade from her lips.