There had been rumors of her being alive, but Kaidan hadn't believed them. He hadn't let himself believe them. Because if he had let that thought take root in his mind, even for a minute, it would have meant abandoning everything to go chasing after her.
But now, she is coming to Horizon. She is coming to him.
He came here to install Alliance defense cannons, and to be a symbol of all the good that the Alliance can do. But the people here hate him, and he is utterly alone.
He thinks he sees the silhouette of the Normandy flying overhead. Not his Normandy. This one is painted with Cerberus colors, and Kaidan's heart sinks as he realizes that the rumors were right. He'd wanted so desperately for that part at least to be wrong. How can she be working for them, knowing what they do?
The Normandy disappears even as he's still staring at it. Some kind of cloaking technology, then. Kaidan scowls. Now, the sky is empty of anything even remotely familiar, there is only the huge Collector dropship, practically right on top of him.
The guns he was supposed to set up were meant to protect this colony from threats exactly like this one. But he couldn't get them working fast enough. Another failure to add to his long list.
He watches helplessly as the Collectors' stasis beams take down one person after another. They are paralyzed. They are helpless. And he can't do anything for them, not unless he wants to get caught in the same trap.
As he runs for his habitation unit at the very edge of the colony, he thinks "no wonder these people think that the Alliance abandons them."
He ducks behind cover, and listens, and tries to think straight. He keeps his hand on his gun. Every now and then, he risks peeking out the window. He can see the Collectors marching by, but they do not seem to notice him. He can hear the sounds of other weapons firing in the distance. Shepard and her squad, almost certainly. Any of the colonists who might have tried to fight have already been taken out of play.
And then, after what feels like an eternity, he hears another sound: heavier weapons, a rhythmic repetition, chunk-chunk-chunk. The cannons. Shepard must have found a way to fix them. Here she is, somehow still cleaning up after his mistakes.
Kaidan steps out of the hab unit into the eerie quiet of the nearly-empty colony. He walks carefully toward the gun turrets, keeping his eyes open for threats, but nothing attacks him and then he's walking out into the clearing, toward Shepard, hands raised in a gesture of peace, or surrender.
Her companions, an unfamiliar Krogan and a very familiar Turian, watch him warily. "Stand down," Shepard orders, and she lowers her gun. So does Garrus. The Krogan growls, but he seems to accept Shepard's authority well enough.
"Kaidan," Shepard says, and he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath because she sounds like she's asking for something. Asking for him. The last words he ever heard her say were an order for him to leave her behind. She was screaming, furious, and he listened to her.
And now, here she is. Working for Cerberus.
He is walking closer to her, taking one step and then another and never feeling like he's in control of his actions. He stops just short of being able to reach out and touch her.
"Anna," he murmurs. She looks up, then, looks into his eyes, and he freezes. And he feels sick. Because she looks different. She is different. Her eyes are dark and hollow, almost black, and her cheeks are carved with deep scars that glow orange, he can see circuits behind them. "What happened to you?" he asks, desperately. "What did they do to you?"
He cannot stand to look at her anymore, he is so afraid of what he sees. He turns to Garrus instead. "How can you be working for them?" he spits, and his hand is back on his gun.
"We aren't working for Cerberus, Kaidan," the Turian replies calmly.
"How can you say that?!"
"Kaidan, look at me!" Shepard yells. He responds to her command, as always, although he regrets it immediately. He lets his eyes slip closed. "I am not your enemy," Anna insists. "Look at me," she demands, again. He opens his eyes. He looks at a point just beyond her. "For fuck's sake, Kaidan, look at what I'm wearing. I'm not a traitor."
He looks. She's wearing N7 armor, the same as always. Even Cerberus can't take away her right to that uniform. It should be enough to make him relax his guard. It should be enough to let him trust her. But she was dead. She was dead. And he isn't so sure that she isn't, still.
"The Alliance abandoned us, Kaidan," Garrus points out. "The Alliance abandoned Shepard."
You can't abandon someone if they're dead. Can you?
People don't just come back to life.
He dreamed about this for so long.
He can feel the familiar pressure building up behind his eyelids, feels his muscles tightening as biotic energy strains to be let loose. He can't do this. Her being here, in front of him, it's killing him.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, and his voice sounds strained even to his own ears.
"The same thing as you, Kaidan. I'm trying to stop the Collectors from abducting colonists."
She won't stop saying his name, like she's determined to prove she still has a hold on him.
How many nights has he woken up alone, desperate to bring her back? He would have given anything. But that's beyond his power. That's beyond anyone's power. She was dead. She is dead. This isn't her.
His gaze slides to Garrus. The Turian soldier doesn't seem to see anything wrong. Is he just lying to himself? Kaidan wishes he was capable of doing the same thing, but the evidence is right in front of him, and he can't unsee it.
"Come with me, Kaidan," Anna whispers. "Please. It'll be just like old times."
He shakes his head. He can't unsee it. "No, it won't."