"Damn it!"

Shepard had less than half a second to react before more Cerberus foot soldiers were upon them. Her hand found the neck of Kaidan's breastplate, and she yanked, hard, and threw him to the ground behind a bombed-out cruiser. She raised her shotgun and started unloading shots upon the advancing enemy, pausing only to pump it. They rushed her, and her omni-weapon flared to life on her wrist. Kaidan could hear her enraged shouts and gunshots recede into the distance, heading in the opposite direction, drawing their fire. James' crumpled body lay at his feet, chest rising and falling shallowly, raggedly. Kaidan scrambled towards him. Blood, some of it still oozing and black in the darkness of Benning's night, caked the long, deep gunshot wound in his side. Kaidan pressed his palms to it, trying to stem the flow of blood. They were out of medi-gel. James muttered something in Spanish.

"Shepard!" croaked Kaidan, his voice hoarse. There was no answer. Probably better that he didn't draw attention to himself now, anyway. His throat burned from inhaling ash, the fires around them casting strange shadows and making him see things. He coughed, covering his mouth with the crook of his arm to muffle the noise. He knew he could do nothing for James at the moment. He could only pray the marine would make it, and try to get them out of there. Kaidan gave James a pitying look, before pulling out his own assault rifle and creeping towards the edge of their cover. He peeked out.

Shepard was nowhere to be seen – a bad sign. There were a few Cerberus stragglers, but more than Kaidan wanted to take on by himself.

"Shit."

Across the street, something caught Kaidan's eye. A medi-kit, buried underneath some rubble, but mostly undamaged. But to get to it he'd have to put himself in plain view of the enemy. What a time for Shepard to charge off and play hero. He glanced back at James, whose color was draining fast, his breathing becoming more and more labored with each passing second. Kaidan closed his eyes, steeling himself for a moment. His biotics flared, and his legs tensed as he went to stand, to rain bullets on them as he scrambled for the medi-kit.

But there was a yell, a flash of red hair, an orange glowing omni-weapon. Kaidan froze. Shepard appeared out of nowhere, leaping from a second-story building with a victorious cry. The unfortunate Cerberus soldier directly beneath her boots provided a soft landing. She rolled off the corpse, twisted, and the omni-blade at her fist sunk deep into an engineer's chest. The nerveless body slumped against Shepard's chest and she heaved, pushing it away with a grunt. She spun, practically danced, away - A hard punch that made Kaidan flinch knocked the next centurion onto his back with a sickening thud. Another Cerberus trooper was lining her up in his sights. She whirled, and static electricity surged from her omni-tool, overloading the soldier's weapons and frying his shields.

He staggered back, disoriented, fumbling for his weapon. When he finally managed to get his bearings, he lifted his gun. But Shepard had her own gun at the ready, her beloved Crusader held firmly in both hands, pointed squarely at the trooper's chest. Kaidan couldn't see her face, but he knew all too well the expression she wore. Self-satisfied, energized, with that crazy grin that made him just a little afraid of her. He could hear her panting. There was a moment or two where the two adversaries stared, unmoving, then - her face twisted into a dangerous snarl. The trooper barely managed two steps backward when Shepard squeezed the trigger, and sent his corpse flying. She about-faced swiftly, stowed her shotgun, and started toward Kaidan's hiding place.

Kaidan could see her face now, and he realized he had been wrong. There was no way she had been smiling at all. The expression she wore was malicious, violent. Angry. Far beyond the adrenaline-fueled girl she had once been, this Commander Shepard was a hardened warrior, her experiences and victories won by fist and bullet and blade. A killer with a cause.

Kaidan saw a darkness in her eyes he hadn't before. He wasn't sure whether to be captivated or terrified.

There was sudden movement behind her. "Shepard!" His rough voice got her attention. She looked up sharply.

The centurion that had been laid flat by her punch had gathered his wits, and was advancing on her, his gun aimed at the back of her head. But this was Commander Shepard, a new, terrible beast that once might have shown him mercy. No more. She pivoted on her heel, and brandished her shotgun in one fist, arm extended. The barrel raised level with the man's head, and without hesitation, Shepard squeezed the trigger. The shotgun kicked back. The centurion's head exploded. Gore splattered her face and chest. She spit blood on the ground as the headless corpse slumped to the floor at her feet.

Kaidan stared at her, perturbed, before a wet cough at his feet reminded him that James was still desperately hanging on to life. But Shepard was there, hurrying forward with the unearthed medi-kit clutched in her fist. She shouldered Kaidan aside wordlessly. He stumbled. She knelt by James' head. There was a long scratch across her cheek. Her lip was bleeding and a huge purple bruise was already swelling the bridge of her nose and her cheekbone. James coughed. Blood splattered his lips. Medi-gel was hastily applied, but he would need real medical attention and soon.

Abruptly, Kaidan's world went muffled, his own ragged breathing a roar in his ears. He stared, rattled at the sight of a bleeding James at his feet, at the situation here with Cerberus, at the idea of Reapers on Earth. At her. He had never seen such malice on her face before. Such hatred. And now she was saying something, gesturing without looking at him, James' head pillowed on her lap. Vega had his eyes open, at least. There was a tiny smile on his face. He was definitely enjoying the attention. Or he was at least trying to make light of the whole situation. Might be the last time anyone ever saw James Vega smile –

When Kaidan didn't respond, Shepard stood and grabbed him roughly by the neck of his breastplate. "Kaidan!"

He started at her shout, bewildered, confused. Her green eyes pierced his, dragging him from his dark thoughts, her blood-splattered face tight with worry and stress. Her expression softened a little. He swallowed and managed to speak, his voice still rough from overuse. "Commander! I'm… Is… S-should I call for extraction?" He fumbled over his words. Shepard released his breastplate and gave his shoulder a pat, a little rougher than usual. She looked down at James, her hands on her hips. Her bruise was darkening, swelling. She licked blood from her lips, and spat again on the ground.

"See if you can raise Joker and tell him we're going to need the whole Normandy down here. James is hurt pretty bad and we need Dr. Chakwas."

Kaidan managed a nod. As he walked away, his fingers found the comforting grip of the pistol on his hip. They tightened, as if that might make them stop shuddering. Kaidan was no fool. He was no newcomer to battle and war. He had seen death, had taken lives. So what was about this particular situation that had him so unnerved? As he radioed for Joker to come extract them, he realized just what exactly had made him sick to his stomach. He glanced over his shoulder Shepard, who had managed to get James into a sitting position, leaning against the cruiser.

It was her.

Shepard had always fascinated him in battle. She was a natural leader, had excellent instincts, and wasn't one to shy away from fights. But this… This Commander Shepard was a new breed, something terrifying and explosive, like lightning. Unpredictable and dangerous. She didn't stick to cover, she used herself as bait. Something icy settled into the pit of his stomach. Shepard didn't think of herself as important, thought that her squad mates were the priority. She had been saying it since he'd known her – "I'm just a soldier." The realization overwhelmed Kaidan, and he felt momentarily dizzy. He received confirmation from Joker that the Normandy was en route, that Cortez had been successfully retrieved, and returned to James and Shepard. Once again, he was all business. Calm and collected. He was glad that he wore gloves – he didn't want her to see the white-knuckled grip he had on his assault rifle.

"Joker's on his way."

Shepard nodded. "I didn't see any more Cerberus troops, did you?"

"No, looks clear."

"Good. Alright, Vega, you've been loafing too long. Time to get up."

James managed a weak laugh as she put his thick arm around her shoulders. Kaidan scurried forward to grab his other arm and do the same. Between the two of them, they managed to hoist the immense marine to his feet. Kaidan felt like he was trying to dead lift a krogan. He huffed a bit and slid his arm around Vega's waist, just underneath Shepard's. The braced themselves against the defunct cruiser, adjusting their grip and giving James a moment to prepare himself for walking.

"Yeah… sure, Lola. And you… don't just want to… cop a feel," James huffed, and managed another weak laugh that quickly devolved into a grunt of pain.

"Lieutenant… do me a favor… and save your jokes for later," replied Shepard, her voice strained with the effort of lifting him.

The Normandy, maneuvered by Joker's expert handling, was sidling between buildings. The cargo bay door opened and touched down onto the ground and Garrus came running out, and together, the three of them managed to get the bulky James Vega on board, mostly dragging him at least half the way. Dr. Chakwas was there, ready with more medi-gel and enough sedative to drop a rhino. Kaidan and Shepard deposited James onto the gurney Dr. Chakwas had provided, and the cargo bay door hissed closed behind them. Shepard groaned and rubbed her aching shoulder as the Normandy lurched and sped off-planet. The good doctor wanted to give Shepard's bruises and cuts some looking over, but the Commander brushed her off, told her that James was more important. Kaidan swallowed his words of protest, hastily stripping his gun and cleaning it without looking up.

Dr. Chakwas rolled James into the elevator, Garrus and Cortez trailing along behind her. Only Kaidan and Shepard remained in the cargo bay.

Silently, the two of them began removing their armor, cleaning it and storing it. Shepard pulled a towel out of her locker and wiped her grimy face. A pained hiss escaped her, a sharp inhale through her teeth as the rough material scratched her bruised face and the cut across her cheek. She stared at her face critically in the small magnetic mirror on her locker door. Her nose was most definitely broken. It was bleeding a little, a red trickle that pooled at her lips, which were cracked and cut themselves. Her tongue darted out to absently lick at the wounds. The cut across her cheek didn't look too deep, but it would probably scar, knowing her luck. For a moment, she stared at herself, lost in thought. Kaidan watched her from the workbench, distractedly cleaning his equipment.

"Damn it," she muttered, and Kaidan saw her shoulders sag a little, her face's reflection became weary, her clenched fists relaxed into helpless empty hands at her side. The bloody towel was draped across her shoulders, forgotten. He couldn't imagine the kind of pressure she must be under. Every minute, thousands of people were dying, and Shepard felt responsible for their agony. Kaidan's jaw clenched and he dropped his half-cleaned pistol with a clatter. Shepard jumped at the noise and looked at him over her shoulder, and once again, she was the strong Commander Shepard. The soldier who would give her life for others without a second thought. The hero.

"Something the matter, Major?"

Kaidan hesitated. Shepard had finished stowing her armor in her locker and had come up beside him to clean her weapons. There was still some blood matted in her hair, sticking it to her scalp. A brief image of her washing it away in the shower, with his help, of course, flashed in Kaidan's mind. He swallowed and turned back to his weapon. He picked it up and busied himself with reassembling it. But his fingers didn't seem to want to obey him. They fumbled with the parts, the order to put them back together.

"Are you alright, Shepard?"

"I'm fine, just some scratches."

"That's not what I meant."

Shepard's hand slowed in her methodical cleaning of her shotgun. She didn't want to look at him. "It's nothing I can't handle, Kaidan."

Without warning, Kaidan's fist slammed onto the workbench, his biotics flaring. His pistol skittered off the bench and hit the floor and mods flew everywhere. Shepard flinched back, and shut her eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Kaidan's jaw twitched, and without another word, he left his partly stripped and mostly dirty weapons on the bench and stalked towards the elevator. The last time his temper had reared its ugly head like that, he had taken a life. No one had broken Shepard's arm, but he could see the wear and tear, the strain she was putting on herself. She was killing herself, pushing herself past the breaking point, and that was enough for Kaidan to snap.

Alone in the elevator, Kaidan had time to collect himself, to rein himself in. He heaved a deep sigh and leaned against the wall, suddenly bone-tired and wishing he hadn't done that. He threw himself into whatever tasks he could find over the next several hours, trying to bury the guilt and frustration under meaningless busy work. He helped Garrus calibrate the guns, he assisted Dr. Chakwas in moving James from one gurney to another (he'd bled onto the sheets on the first), he chatted with Joker, deflected his questions with dry wit, answered some questions from EDI about human behavior – "Shepard said she did not wish to be disturbed, Major Alenko, so you will have to do." – He helped Liara sort through some information she had recovered from Benning, he gave Diana Allers an interview, and he tried to have a conversation with Javik, but all the Prothean did was stare at him.

Finally, Tali called him down to the engineering deck. Apparently she had snuck into Shepard's cabin to rifle through her things and steal some straws. She had gotten curious about the squeaking creature in the glass tank and had taken it out. In fear, the hamster had bit her, ruptured her suit and escaped into the vents. Tali assured Kaidan that the suit rupture issue was taken care of, but she felt guilty at getting Shepard's pet lost. Kaidan begrudgingly agreed to help her, and had squeezed himself into the ducts that Joker had once traversed to save the ship from Collectors. He was much bigger than Joker, however.

That's how Kaidan found himself at Shepard's door several hours later, smudges of grease and grime on his face and hands, clutching a small box with holes punched into it with a terrified, scrabbling hamster inside. He hadn't seen Shepard since their – argument, he supposed is what that had been – and he assumed she was in her cabin. He hesitated, knuckles poised over the cold metal of her door. You're just returning her stupid hamster, he thought. No need to make this complicated. And he knocked three times.

The door opened with a soft whoosh.

Shepard was sitting at her desk, one hand holding an ice pack on her bruised and swollen face. Her free hand tapped a steady rhythm on the metal tabletop as she peered down at a datapad, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Her shoulders were bent protectively around herself. EDI hadn't been lying – this was the picture of someone who wanted to be left alone. The blue light from her aquarium threw strange shadows across her face, and so suddenly, she looked different from the creature he had seen on the battlefields. Had he imagined her ferocity? She didn't look up as he entered. He cleared his throat and she tore her frustrated gaze from the datapad to look at him. Even from under the ice pack, he could see the surprise. She stood up.

"Kaidan. What –"

He stepped forward and gently placed the box on the table. "Tali misplaced your hamster. I helped her get it back." Shepard's gaze darted to the tank.

"I didn't even realize he was gone," she said remorsefully, and set down the ice pack with an audible wince. Kaidan, too, sucked in a breath at the sight of her face. The dark purple bruise extended over her cheekbone and halfway down her cheek. Her nose was oddly bent in two places. Her eye was swollen, almost shut entirely. She opened the box – A takeout box from a popular sushi restaurant on the Citadel that Joker had "recovered" – and deposited the tiny hamster back into his tank. He gave a loud, indignant squeak and scurried into his wooden house.

"Thank you, Kaidan." Her voice was tired. For a moment, Kaidan thought she might pass out. She swayed slightly on the spot, and sighed. Kaidan shoved his hands in his pockets to avoid steadying her. And then the instant was over, and she picked up the ice pack, raising it to her face –

The medic in him flailed helplessly. He made a noise of protest and stepped forward to grasp her wrist, to stop the ice pack from touching her face. She looked up at him curiously. His answering gaze was reproachful and she grimaced.

"You'd better let me take a look at that," he said quietly, and his fingers gently lifted her short hair from her face, to better see the extent of the damage. She hadn't showered yet. He suspected the pain of her face was keeping her from cleaning up. He could still smell the blood on her, could still see it caked in her hairline. "What happened?" he asked, his free hand gingerly touching her nose to confirm it was broken. She hissed at the touch and jerked back. Yep, definitely broken.

"Stupid mistake, really. After I had lured them away from you and Vega, I ran right into another squad of them. Centurion blindsided me with the butt of his gun." She tried to smile, to bring levity to the situation, but her broken face allowed only a faltering lip twitch. Kaidan didn't return the smile. His jaw clenched, instead, frustrated at her lack of a self-preservation instinct.

"Shepard, you've got to stop doing that. This isn't Akuze, you know. You aren't alone in all this." Their gaze met. Bottle-green reunited with honey-brown. His fingers were warm on her jawbone and chin. It had been so long.

Shepard jerked away from him, suddenly livid, suddenly hating him, and snatched the ice pack off the desk. She pressed it to her swollen eye with a hiss of relief and pain. "Thank you for your concern, Kaidan, but I'm fine." She turned away from him, shoulders square, resolute, but – trembling. What did he know? Kaidan had never experienced the kind of pressure she was being burdened with. Kaidan would never know the crippling, paralyzing fear of knowing every decision would cost millions of lives, every second of inaction meant someone else would lose. Her hands clenched into fists at her side, and she suddenly wished she could hit him, she wished she could fly apart into a thousand pieces, scream and cry and howl in fear and anguish.

For a long minute, neither of them spoke. Shepard felt as if the silence might suffocate her, but the rage inside her would not die.

And then Kaidan's warm, rough hands were on her elbow. He turned her around, to face him, to look him in the eye. She resisted, pulling away, snarling, scowling, still seeking confrontation. Conflict was easier than compromise. Conflict hurt less, felt like less of a loss. But his grip was gentle and unyielding and irresistible.

"You don't have to be fine, you know. I'm here." And then he was kissing her, gently, carefully, drawing her into his embrace, tasting blood and the raw taste of the cuts along her lips. She had never quite noticed just how perfectly her head fit beneath his chin, until now. Her arms were pinned between their chests, her fingers curved at her throat. Kaidan pressed his mouth blindly to her uninjured temple, and she curled into his embrace with a short, strangled sob. Hot tears blurred her vision. She sagged against him, trembling, as if the world had abruptly become too heavy for even her, her rage leaching from her and leaving her drained, empty. And Kaidan was there, to hold her up, to catch her when her legs would no longer work.

Minutes ticked by. Kaidan simply held her. No words were spoken.

Eventually, Shepard collected herself and straightened, lifting her head to look at him. She gingerly wiped her bruised face free from tears and inhaled shakily. A small, weary laugh escaped her. His hands didn't leave her waist.

"Probably shouldn't tell anyone that the great Commander Shepard cries."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, I really think you should let Chakwas look you over. Your nose is broken, and I don't like the look of that cut, either."

"I thought you had a thing for scars."

"No, that would be turians, Shepard." A wry smile twisted at his lips.

"Shower first?"

"I don't know, Shepard…"

"I'll let you help me."

His mind fumbled for a moment, trying to think of something clever to say in response. But Shepard was already slipping from his grasp, pulling off her tank top as she went. She tossed it at him, and his hand automatically caught it in midair. She smiled as best as her broken nose would allow her, and strode into the bathroom.

"Deal."

And he followed.