A few things to note.
Firstly and most importantly: Please do not read ANY FURTHER if you have not completed playing Mass Effect 2, or you will be greatly spoiler'd.
Secondly, this is basically my actual real life response in story form to what happened in the game regarding femShep's relationship with Kaidan. The document started off as just something to make me feel better, and it just kept growing until it was six pages long. I apologize if it seems disjointed here and there, but that was essentially the goal of this. Sometimes what we feel is not always crystal clear. It was my intention for this to be a little confused. Also, I have spent a lot of time on this, but it hasn't been beta read.
Consider yourself forewarned. :)
"I've been gone for two years?" Commander Shepard said softly; it wasn't really a question.
She and her new acquaintances, Miranda Lawson and Jacob Taylor, both of Cerberus, were in transit to some Cerberus station. She ached everywhere – her face, her ribs, her joints. This news, however, caused a deep ache in her chest worse than all the others.
She had figured it had taken time to "rebuild" her back into a living, breathing human being from being spaced and choking to death. Somehow in the fire fights on the Project Lazarus station, the exact time frame seemed to have been skirted around. Now she knew why.
Her first thought was of her crew from the Normandy, and in particular, her lieutenant. He thought she had been dead for two years. It was likely he had moved on, then. She tried not to think about it.
Perhaps being dead for two years had resulted in some kind of pent-up impatience. Shepard found she was toeing the morality line more than she used to – this thought occurred to her as she watched the batarian Blue Suns sergeant crumple to the ground. Her doing: a heavy electric shock to the back, so he couldn't continue repairs.
She didn't enjoy it, but it needed to be done. However, it did leave her wondering if she would have done that two years ago. Somehow, she didn't think so. She left the mercenary there and she and her squad headed out, and she didn't give him a second thought.
Everything felt hazy. Shepard stared at the galaxy map in the CIC of the Normandy SR2 without really seeing anything.
Joker had made some snarky comment or other about bumping into Kaidan, but that was just the way he was. She had told him in frustration, "Another reminder of how I've lost more than time... I've had enough of this garbage."
Honestly, she couldn't remember any specific details about her last conversation with her favourite person. She remembered the feelings quite clearly, especially the one she was still feeling: hollow.
At first, Shepard had been excited to hear the Illusive Man mention his name. On the colony, she had done her duty to the best of her ability, but the entire time during the mission on Horizon, she had been keeping an eye out for that one person in particular, just wanting to catch a glimpse of him, to know he was safe...
The further she and her team had pressed on, the more anxious she had become. Her work was unaffected; shots didn't stray, her abilities were as powerful as they had ever been. Whether that was a result of her training, or the desire to see her former lover safe, she couldn't tell.
Then, after the last shot was fired, she could see the collectors' ship taking off, giving up. They hadn't taken the whole colony – maybe... She dared to hope.
And then... he spoke. She heard his voice and could have picked it out of a thousand other voices talking. The words he was saying slipped past her as joy washed over her, and she drank in every syllable – not for the meaning of the word, but just to hear his voice. It filled her with warmth.
They had embraced and she breathed his scent in – he still smelled the same. Had two years really passed? It was mere days for her. She could feel him inhale; he was taking in her smell just as she was doing.
When he pulled back, she looked up at him, but the warmth in his eyes was gone. They were dull, deadened. She had told him he didn't seem that happy to see her. He was upset. Two years she'd been dead – why hadn't she tried to contact him? She was just letting him think she was dead? He wanted to know if he meant anything to her at all.
"I loved you!"
Those words, which he had never been quite brave enough to say, now escaped from his lips easily in past tense. She remembered those words clear as day. She faltered, again trying to explain, but somehow just couldn't find the right words. He balked at the mention of Cerberus.
"You've changed, Shepard."
Had she? She had been so focused on the mission, she hadn't had much time to think about personal matters. She thought back to the Archangel pick up mission, when she had tasered that batarian. In fact, she hadn't tasered him; whatever alien device that thing was, she was fairly certain she had killed him. She felt her values were still the same, but... Shepard could only come to the same conclusion she had during that mission: she pushed the line of what her limits might have been two years ago.
She closed her eyes, as again that thought came upon her. Two years...
Kaidan was pacing in his cabin aboard his ship. He was angry, but what could he do? He couldn't very well storm into Anderson's office on the Presidium and yell at him for the surprise that had been waiting for him on Horizon. It wasn't as if the man knew Shepard was going to be there, even if he did know she was alive...
He leaned against the wall and wiped his hand down his face, letting out a lungful of air. He hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath for so long. The truth was, he wasn't just angry at Anderson. In fact, he was barely angry at him at all, and he wasn't even really angry at Shepard. She'd made her choice – that much was clear – but she was doing what she believed was right, as she always did, and when she'd made up her mind, there was no stopping her. Sovereign had been proof of that, in more ways than one. She defied the Council, mutinied and stolen a ship, and then not only refused to let the sentient ship carry out his plans – his same routine for who knew how many millions of years – but she'd refused to die when a piece of the dead ship tried to crush her. Now, coming back from the dead... That woman was a force that even death could not stop.
He still admired her.
So, then, that was why he was angry. He was angry at himself for getting swept up in the hurricane that was the woman he had thought to be dead for two years, and he was angry he had given her such a terrible "welcome back." He was confused about his feelings for her, and that made him angrier still.
He began to pace again.
He had spent the past two years getting over his commander's death. Yet here he was, reliving the pain he so wished he could forget, only this time because of Shepard's living instead of her dying.
Seeing her for the first time had sent a shock through his body. He had arrived on the battlefield just as she and her squad – he recognized Garrus, and there was a dark-haired woman he didn't know – had finished off some kind of monstrosity that seemed to have eaten a bunch of husks. His mouth had gone completely dry. That couldn't be her; she was dead. He saw her get spaced, which had been horrible to watch, although it had probably been slightly worse for the commander. It couldn't be true, but... the way she handled herself on the battlefield, moving with that deadly purpose...
Delan, a colony man, had somehow wandered onto the battleground, upset. There was talking, arguing, while the woman who looked and moved like Shepard tried to convince the man she'd done everything she could. Garrus had said, "More than most, Shepard."
"Shepard?" Delan had repeated. As the man tried to remember where he'd heard the name, Kaidan found his voice. "Some kind of Alliance hero..."
"Commander Shepard, captain of the Normandy, first human spectre, saviour of the Citadel," Kaidan said, unable to keep a little marvel out of his voice, which rang clear across the empty grounds as he strode out to meet them. He couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the eye, so instead he had turned to Delan and told him, "You're in the presence of a legend, Delan." Normally well-controlled, Kaidan couldn't stop wave upon wave of emotion crashing into himself. Amazement: here she was, it was really her, standing only a few feet away. Hurt: how long had she been alive without telling him? "And a ghost."
He finally turned to look at her and let his eyes drink in her steady gaze and familiar face, and Delan's reply was lost upon his ears. Kaidan couldn't help it any longer; he pulled her into an embrace.
Underneath the scent of battle and sweat, she still smelled the way he remembered. Her hair was different; shorter, and she had strange scars on her face – almost in a pattern – but they seemed to be fading. After a time, he said softly into her neck, "I thought you were dead. We all did."
Anger: why hadn't she told him? He had been wasting the past two years mourning a woman who didn't even care enough to let him know she hadn't died? He pulled away and looked at her again, his insides freezing.
"You don't sound to happy to see me."
He barely remembered what came out of his mouth after that point, but it was full of resentment. He didn't really recall what Shepard had said beyond that, either. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to do – that she would make everything all better with just a few words? The woman was charismatic, and she'd fixed more than her share of problems, but he knew well enough that she couldn't wave a magic wand and make the last few years disappear.
She had been dead, according to her, for two years. He remembered that. He also remembered that it had been Cerberus that brought her back. What a price to pay for life – a debt to Cerberus. She seemed to be convinced that Cerberus was doing the right thing, or at least, that Cerberus was letting her do the right thing. Had she somehow forgotten all the times they'd bumped into Cerberus on their last mission? All the experiments they'd come across? Nothing made sense. This was Shepard, but it wasn't.
Thinking back on it now, Kaidan realized that someone could have explained to him that two plus two equals four and it still wouldn't have connected properly at the time. Still...
How many times had he wished she hadn't died? That she would walk into the room as though nothing had happened? Now it had, and it was nothing like he had imagined. It was confusing – wonderful and terrible at the same time. Even now, thinking about it all sent a chill through him.
He sighed and stopped pacing, taking a seat at his terminal. He should probably send a message to his old commander. Maybe things would be clearer if he could just write them down...
Scanning through unread messages at her terminal, Shepard came across one that caught her off guard.
About Horizon...
A message from Kaidan. She read it, then she read it again.
It was so typically Kaidan; she could hear his voice, imagine his pauses in speech, the way he rubbed at the back of his neck when he felt awkward. Yet while she could picture all of this, the message itself was unclear. She didn't know how she had expected Kaidan to react, and couldn't have imagined the pain he must have felt for the two years she was gone.
If things settle down... A long shot, both surviving her mission, and the likelihood of taking down the wall he had thrown up the instant Cerberus had been mentioned. His message seemed to be filled with uncertainty. He'd gone out for drinks with a doctor, probably not that long ago. She wanted to be happy for him... but some part of her was angry. Not angry about the doctor; angry that this message was the only thing she had gotten.
She opened up a new message to reply, but paused. Another part of her felt sad. How had she changed things for Kaidan, showing up on Horizon? Trying to get my life back...
She closed the blank response and left the terminal.
"Wouldn't you rather get lost in the memory of another's hand on yours? Or the taste of their tongue in your mouth?" their latest recruited specialist, Thane, asked. He said it so matter-of-factly.
Shepard stared at him, though she didn't really see him, as against her will, memories of the time she had spent with Kaidan before Ilos flooded her mind. It was the only night they had spent together, and Shepard remembered it well. Nerve endings on fire, their skin hot, pressed up against each other, pulses racing, gasping for air. Blood rushed to her face, though not from embarrassment.
The assassin met her gaze evenly, as though he could read her mind. "It's better than spending the night alone," he said softly.
Then her most recent memory of Kaidan fell upon her, great weight that it was, and she asked, "Couldn't you get lost in the bad memories?"
"Yes," Thane answered simply. "That is possible. However, while recalling a gun shot wound to the knee is... painful, I can look at my knee and see that it isn't shattered."
Shepard could still feel that hollowed-out space in her chest. Some days it burned, some days it throbbed, other days it just... felt empty. It wasn't just a memory.
Kaidan found himself debating sending Shepard another message. He was simultaneously trying to convince himself not to do it while writing the letter to her in his mind. A few weeks had passed, and he hadn't heard from her.
Shepard was clearly busy – on another Reaper mission. A pang of sadness bit at him; what an adventure that one would be, and here he was, filing paperwork and leading a rather ordinary life. Aside from the fact that his former commander and lover had come back from the dead. He snorted softly in dark amusement.
It was just like Shepard to get involved in the messiest mission possible. Making a real difference; making every second of her life (and death, in this case) count. He missed that about her. He missed a lot of things about her. Even though she was alive, the pain he felt was as if she'd died all over again. He didn't know what to think.
"Dammit, Alenko, get it together," he muttered to himself.
"Still, my feelings have always come after my duty," Samara was saying as she gazed out the window of the observation deck aboard the Normandy. She often did that while they spoke; never quite meeting the commander's eyes. As she finished her sentence, though, she brought her large eyes to meet Shepard's and caught hold of the commander's gaze. "The same is true for you."
The commander said nothing, but moved to the window and stared at the stars drifting past. Of course, the asari was right.
She found solace in her comrades – all of them, even Jack, the crazed criminal holed up in the darkest, most secluded area of the ship. Samara was particularly good to sit with and have a quiet, reflective moment. Although she was probably doing too much of that these days. Still, it was nice on the observation deck. The quiet hum of the engine relaxed her.
Shepard reveled in the clear focus of of a fire fight. Battles and fire fights were freeing, when she could go back to who she was, what she had trained for, and the goal. That was all that mattered on the battlefield. Everything was crystal clear.
However, it still took time to get to those battlefields, even with the technology of the mass relays. So it was that she paced her cabin on the eve of their suicide mission, trying to distract herself from the silence. She couldn't; everything had been planned out as much as possible before they headed into the Omega 4 relay and beyond. They were all ready. They were a team now, each specialist loyal to Shepard, each focused solely on the mission. Shepard was fairly confident even she, herself, would be fine on the battlefield – if she could just get there in one piece. Her mind kept drawing her back to her former lieutenant.
She found herself staring at the holo she kept of Kaidan on her desk. Remembering not just him, but them, as they were, as she once was before Cerberus had rebuilt her. She frowned, thinking again of if and how she had changed. The aggression, still doing what she thought was the right thing, but forcefully. Why?
Perhaps she was tired of being treated poorly – after all she had done, the Council had basically kicked her to the curb. Even Anderson, a man who had once held so much hope and inspiration, seemed to have given up. The galaxy felt off balance.
Both the Illusive Man and Miranda had told her that Shepard had to be rebuilt exactly as she was. It was possible either one had lied. Miranda had expressed regret she couldn't build Shepard to her own specifications, and, well... the Illusive Man was many things, but trustworthy was not one of them. Her new attitude seemed to be getting her results, which was what Cerberus was looking for.
Regardless of the reasons behind the added aggression... did that still make her the same Shepard she had been two years ago? She shook her head, breaking her intent gaze on her former lover's holo. That couldn't give her an answer. It only spurred more questions.
"Joker, prep the engines," Shepard ordered into her comm. "I'm about to overload this place and blow it sky high."
"Roger that, Commander," Joker's voice crackled in her ear.
As Shepard bent to open part of the Collectors' ships' systems, Joker said, "Uh, Commander? I've got an incoming signal from the Illusive Man. EDI's patching it through."
The battle-hungry Grunt pressed a few buttons the control panel and the Illusive Man's holo came into view. He and Shepard bantered back and forth in the usual manner – he was all charm and grace, and she was resentful. It was only when he brought up saving the Collector base instead of destroying it that Shepard gave pause.
"They liquefied people," Shepard spat. "Turned them into something horrible. We have to destroy the base!"
"Don't be short-sighted," the Illusive Man chastised. "Our best chance against the Reapers is to turn their own resources against them. They were working directly with the Collectors; who knows what information is buried there."
Shepard shook her head. "No matter what kind of technology we might find, it's not worth it."
"Shepard, I didn't discard you because I knew your value," he said, and there was something in his tone the commander didn't like. "Don't be so quick to discard this facility. Think of the potential!"
The commander stopped, and stared at the Illusive Man's holo. His argument had sound logic... but to what end? Legion had described the geth wanting to build their own future. He had pointed out something Sovereign had once said to Shepard: "By using our Mass Relays, your society develops along the paths we desire." Accepting someone else's technology had been unacceptable for most geth. Dr. Mordin Solus had pointed out something similar regarding the Krogan: "Like giving nuclear weapons to cavemen."
Even with those things in mind, her final thought rested on Kaidan, saying Cerberus could not be trusted, saying she had changed. She didn't trust Cerberus, and she never had, and she hadn't changed enough to be convinced of what the Illusive Man was saying. She frowned, suddenly resentful. She would prove him wrong.
"We'll fight and win without it," she said finally, turning away from the holo and back to the systems hub. "I won't let fear compromise who I am. We can beat the Reapers, and we don't have to sell our souls to do it."
"Shepard, think about what's at stake. About everything Cerberus has done for you. You—" The rest of his desperate attempt to convince Shepard to save the technology was lost as Grunt cut off communications.
"Shepard..."
The commander tried to calm her nerves. She couldn't recall, at any point in her life, being this uncertain or nervous. Over the last few months, in the downtime of her mission, she had been mourning the relationship, much like her former lover had mourned her death. Was she ready to give it up? Did she want to keep trying? She wasn't sure anymore. She looked over at Kaidan, afraid of what she would see in him looking back at her.
She had bumped into him on the Citadel after having a chat with Anderson. The whole situation felt awkward and out of place. They were now seated on a bench in the Presidium, overlooking the water, whose peaceful trickling sound did nothing to relax either of them. Neither was comfortable around the other anymore. She was already feeling very unstable in her life, and this awkwardness didn't help matters.
Things were still up in the air. She wasn't Alliance anymore, but that might change. They might reinstate her. Commander Shepard, hero of the Citadel (and other things that would probably go ignored), whom even death cannot stop. The publicity would be immensely positive (and powerful) for the Alliance, and humanity in general. Shepard had never been comfortable with the idea of being a poster girl for the military, but really, with her training and knack for combat, where else did she have left to go after making an enemy of the company that brought her back to life?
Kaidan had trailed off and seemed to be having as much trouble as she was in making eye contact. He rubbed at the back of his neck as more silence feel between them, separating them further.
"Your hair is different," he commented sheepishly.
Shepard shrugged. "I assume Cerberus had to cut it while I was out, for whatever reason. Or maybe it fell out. I'm not sure." More awkwardness at the idea of a bald Shepard.
He tried again. "Did you, uh, get my message? About Horizon?"
Shepard nodded, looking back at the water again, suddenly recalling a certain krogan who had wondered about fish on the Presidium. She had bought a fish for him and lied, saying she'd fished it herself. She would bet he was probably still planning on what to do with the thing.
"You, ah, didn't respond, so I didn't know if I had the right address..." Kaidan trailed off.
Shepard looked at him again, feeling disconnected. "What could I have said?" she asked, lifting her shoulders in a small shrug. Not an expression of carelessness, but of despondency.
Kaidan nodded. "That's fair."
More uncomfortable silence. A long while passed before Kaidan said anything more.
"I heard the Illusive Man was upset about some four billion credit project not living up to his expectations," he said, trying to be casual.
Shepard half-smiled darkly at the memory of Grunt cutting the mysterious billionaire off in mid-lecture. "Not everyone is as ready to sell their soul as you think they are," she remarked coolly.
"Shepard..."
She shook her head, looking down. "I'm sorry, Kaidan," she said, sighing. "I know I hurt you, but at least I didn't mean to."
Kaidan winced. "I didn't mean to hurt you either, Shepard."
"Could have fooled me," she replied – not angry, just honest.
Her former lieutenant sighed. "So... where do we go from here?"
Shepard met his gaze again. "Is there anywhere left to go?" she asked him a little sadly.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Maybe. Do you want there to be... somewhere to go?"
Shepard's mouth thinned a little as she thought. After a moment or two, she answered, "Some days. Others..."
Kaidan nodded in understanding; he could empathize. Suddenly, he found himself sliding closer to Shepard, gently cupping her face in his hands, studying what he saw there, as if somehow he could find the answer that way.
Holding perfectly still, Shepard locked eyes with Kaidan for a small moment and something – she couldn't place exactly what – passed between them. A spark, maybe. Something left over from their past relationship? Or...
Kaidan broke the gaze as he studied her features. He pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen in her eyes, letting his fingertips brush across her brow bone, her temple. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone, narrowing his eyes as if he were trying to figure something out. His touch was so gentle and delicate, Shepard almost let herself close her eyes in contentment.
"You haven't changed," he breathed, almost in apology, considering their disagreement on Horizon. His thumb grazed her bottom lip ever so softly. Shepard's heart began to thud dangerously loudly in a painful sort of way, and though most of her didn't want to, she pulled away.
They were quiet for a long time, each sitting very still as they thought about what just happened.
Finally, Kaidan spoke as he examined his hands. "I've missed you, Shepard."
Shepard sighed. "I've missed you too, Kaidan."
"You think... I mean..." Somehow, he couldn't quite find the right words.
She knew what he meant. "I think... we have a start," she said slowly.
"A start," Kaidan repeated, half-smiling.
A/N: Well, so ends my response to the "loyal" romance choice. For my Shepard, there is no one for her but Kaidan. Somehow, I wanted to end this happier, but it just didn't fit. I get why Kaidan was, well, basically a jerk – seeing her alive has GOT to be confusing. Angry at her, angry at himself, confused, emotional. It's not often you hear of a person coming back from the dead. But he can't say the stuff that he did and expect immediate forgiveness, even if the situation was really weird.
So, I'm interested to know in what everyone else thought of the Kaidan/Ash reunion. Did you guys stay loyal? Were you tempted at all by any of the other romance options? If so, whom, and did you go through with it, or keep it in your pants? ;)
PS: Did anyone else notice that Kaidan was promoted to Commander (Ash too, I'm assuming)? Thus meaning that because they are now the same rank, there would be no more regs against fraternization (should Shepard go back to the Alliance)? I have high hopes for ME3!
PPS: Another thing I sort of touched on here was the change in paragon Shepard's attitude. Even the paragon options were aggressively spoken. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I disagree with the new attitude or dislike it. It was just different; something I picked up on. Was I the only one who thought so?
For those curious about my other story, Situation Normal, it's still ongoing. I've been trying to write the fourth chapter for what feels like years now. I promise it will be updated... eventually. Sorry I'm having so much trouble with it.