Kaidan watched as steam rose from his coffee, twisting and twirling into whimsical patterns in the dim mess hall light. He cupped the mug in both hands, stared into the deep brown liquid as if it were a crystal ball, as if it held the answers he so desperately sought. After three cups of the bitter beverage, he had yet to find any comfort, but perhaps if he kept going, he would find it at the bottom of the pot. At the very least, the caffeine would keep him awake until Shepard returned.
Ashley had stayed with him for a few hours, insisting Shepard was fine, that she could handle whatever emergency had prompted her to set course for Earth and leave them with such urgency. Kaidan wasn't so sure. Ashley hadn't been there when Shepard ran into her old acquaintance; she hadn't seen how her entire posture had shifted to the defensive, how her face had paled when the man had mentioned a name, Sara. Ashley hadn't heard the unfamiliar tightness in Shepard's voice when she had dismissed him and Garrus, sending them back to the Normandy before disappearing into Chora's Den with the man she called Finch.
Now, only a few hours remained of the 24 hour leave Shepard had ordered, and she had yet to return.
The soft sound of leather on metal echoed throughout the deck and Kaidan cocked his head toward the noise. It was boots, of that he was certain, an uneven footfall padding quietly down the stairs. He straightened in his chair and turned his head, eagerly awaiting to see who would appear from behind the dividing wall.
It was her.
Before relief could take hold, worry crashed over him. Something was off. No, everything was off. She wasn't walking so much as she was shuffling, her left leg obviously bearing more weight than her right. Her hair was down, kinked and mussed and darkened with dried sweat the same way it always was after she spent a couple hours in the gym. Even in the dim night cycle light, there was no missing the rust colored flecks of blood splattered across her face, the crimson smeared across her shoulder, the reddened discoloration of her hands that looked like painted on gloves.
Kaidan pushed his coffee away from him, already rising from his seat. "Commander?"
His voice was booming in the otherwise silent mess. There was no way she hadn't heard him, but she didn't acknowledge him. He fought to suppress the panic rising in his chest as he watched her enter her cabin without so much as a glance in his direction.
Heart pounding wildly against his ribcage, Kaidan crossed the gangway with long, purposeful strides to find her door lock still green. His hand hovered over the control for only a second; his concern for her overrode any apprehension he had about entering his commanding officer's private quarters without invitation, and with a decidedly firm press of the control, he granted himself access to her cabin.
Inside, she stood with her back facing him, the only light coming from the safety lights built into the floorboards. His eyes scanned over her form, what little he could make out in the poorly lit room. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, trembling.
"Shepard?"
Kaidan waited, counted 8 heartbeats before Shepard finally turned to face him, and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of her. A thick line of crusted blood marred the skin above her left brow, her bottom lip split and swollen, her pupils dilated and eyes wide with fear, brimmed with moisture. All of her weight rested on her left leg and her shoulders sagged as if simply keeping herself upright required too much effort.
He could feel his own eyes widen in surprise, could feel concern etch into every line on his face. He stepped toward her without hesitation, but she stumbled backward, shook her head and her eyes fell to the floor. Kaidan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat and came out a croak. He swallowed against the lump that arose, a newly formed tumor of doubt and guilt.
He wanted to ask what happened, where she had gone, how all of this had happened, but he couldn't. Not when she looked like this, not when she flinched at his presence.
"Are you hurt?"
It was a stupid question, given her current state, but it was all he could manage.
"No."
Kaidan could hear the tightness in her tone. In any other situation, he might have laughed at her denial, been impressed by her willfulness to carry on as if she weren't injured. But this wasn't just another day shooting geth and mowing down husks. The woman standing before him wasn't Shepard as he knew her; she was deflated, terrified, unable to hold his gaze.
"Do you want me to go?"
Silence stretched between them, unease in the air so thick it was suffocating. He wasn't sure he could leave even if she ordered him to; every muscle in his body was tense, his feet glued in place despite every nerve in his body firing, telling him to go to her. He wanted to, God, how he wanted to. He longed to tend to her wounds, to hold her, to console her. But he couldn't move, he wouldn't, not if it would make her shy away from him again.
Slowly, Shepard lifted her head to meet his eyes, her cheek dimpled where she held the inner lining between her teeth, her brows pinched tightly over haunted eyes. He watched as she took a deep breath, no doubt trying to steady herself, and she shook her head slowly. Cautiously, he moved one step closer, his eyes never leaving hers, waiting for either a sign of permission or of dismissal.
This time, she didn't move away. He closed the distance between them in two strides and took her into his arms, enveloped her completely and pulled her in firmly against his chest. She remained stiff within his embrace, arms trapped at her sides, trembling against him. Her breath came in short, shallow rasps, warming the juncture between his chest and neck with each shaky exhale. Kaidan rested his cheek atop her head and held tight. She felt so small wrapped up in his arms, so light even though he was supporting the majority of her weight now. He tightened his hold around her, hoping somehow that if he kept her there against him, he could shield her from whatever she had just faced, absorb all of her pain. If only he held her tightly enough, long enough, he could make her feel safe.
"I thought I was done." Shepard spoke into the fabric of his shirt, her voice low and muffled. Kaidan held his breath, afraid that even exhaling would be enough to dissuade her from continuing. "Akuze...the Reds..." He felt her chest swell against his, heard her gasp as she breathed in a deep breath. "I thought it was over." Her words rolled out on a shaky breath, a trembling whisper that sent a chill to his spine.
Tears pricked at his eyes and he swallowed hard. Shepard was usually so full of Earth-shaking confidence, to hear her so timid, so broken, was enough to drive a crack in his composure. "Can you tell me what happened?"
He felt her swallow, set her jaw. Her arms rose to wrap around his waist and her fingers laced together against the small of his back. He could feel her limbs still shaking and, though she felt like she was trying to hold on tight, her embrace was weak. "I had to go back."
Kaidan took a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh and pulled back from her slightly. He peered down at her, still clinging desperately to his chest. Whatever had left her bloodied had also left her shell shocked and he felt a twinge of guilt pull at his heart strings for pushing too soon.
"Hey," he whispered, "why don't we get you cleaned up? Let me take a look at that cut?"
When she didn't move, he slipped his hand between them, his fingertips finding her chin and he tilted her head so he could see her face. She dragged her eyes up to meet his and nodded meekly, reluctantly releasing the hold she had on his waist.
"Okay, good." Kaidan rested his hands on her shoulders and gazed into her eyes; pools of glacial blue that usually held such life now frozen over, as if she wasn't really seeing him, as if she were somewhere else far away. He fought the urge to pull her into him again, to try to ground her in the here and now with him. But if he did that now, he knew, there would be no letting go. Instead, he let his hands slide down her arms and he gave her biceps a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right back."
For a moment she didn't move, she just stood in front of him, her eyes aimed at his chest, and Kaidan waited until she took the first step away before he allowed himself to leave the room. He padded across the mess to the med bay, hoping he was quiet enough not to wake anyone in the sleeper pods and avoid detection. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself and Shepard; no one on board needed to know they were in her cabin together at this time of night, regardless the reason, nor would Shepard want anyone to see what condition she was in.
Kaidan knew Shepard had been in a gang as a kid, he had seen the embossed "R" on her shoulder, burned into her flesh when she was just barely a teenager. They had talked about the Reds a few times, never in detail, and more often than not she focused on tales of teenage rebellion and debauchery rather than the gang itself.
She had never mentioned Finch, had recoiled from him as if he were a snake about to strike when they happened upon him in the wards. She had never mentioned a Sara. She had never mentioned any names, now that he thought about it. Another twinge of guilt pulled at him; he should have paid more attention to the red flags in her stories, the questions she sidestepped, the details she left out. He shouldn't have let her just disappear with Finch like that. He should have insisted he go with her, he should have had her back. Kaidan sighed as he gathered the last of his supplies, exited the med-bay with his hands full of antiseptic solution and medi-gel. It was too late for should haves.
Back in her cabin, Shepard sat on the edge of her bed; she had removed her boots and she sat with her legs extended before her, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast down where she repeatedly balled her fingers into fists, then stretched them wide. Kaidan flicked on her desk side lamp and set his things beside her on the bed, then moved into position, taking a knee on the floor in front of her.
With the newly lit lamp, he could see her, really see her, for the first time since her return. Blood caked her hands completely and he captured them in his own, stilling her nervous movements as he looked them over. Her knuckles were raw, cracked and torn and scabbed; most of her fingers were swollen, a couple misshapen, and when he moved to palpate the many small bones in her hands, she hissed in pain. Kaidan glanced up at her beneath pinched brows, but again she avoided his gaze, her eyes darting around the room to look anywhere but at him.
Her avoidance made her look like a little kid who had been caught stealing and was about to be chastised. If Dr. Chakwas were in his place, Shepard would likely be getting an earful at the moment. But it was him, not Chakwas, and he was more worried about why her hands looked like she had put them through a meat grinder than scolding her for doing so.
As gently as he could, he tended to the wounds there; he wiped the blood from her skin, each nook and cranny between her fingers all the way up her wrists, cleaned each wound with antiseptic, and applied a generous amount of medi-gel. Throughout the process, neither said a word. Kaidan's mouth felt dry and his tongue felt thick, heavy with everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to ask, but he remained silent and focused on his work, certain that if he could be patient enough, wait her out, she would speak when she was ready.
"Kaidan," Shepard spoke barely above a whisper, "you...I don't..." Her voice quivered and petered out to nothing.
Kaidan paused, one of her hands still held in his, and looked up at her. She was looking at him now, finally, her eyes still wide with trepidation, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. Everything about her in that moment was a contradiction; he could see it in her eyes, her need for him to stay intermingling with equal need to tell him to leave. The delicate flesh she held between her teeth was a button, clasping her mouth shut so she couldn't order him to do either. Within his hands, hers tensed, though he couldn't tell if she was preparing to lace her fingers with his or pull away.
"I'm not going anywhere, Shepard."
She tilted her head back, her eyes lifting to the ceiling. "You say that now."
He reached up to cup her cheek, his fingers curling gently around the back of her neck, and he pulled her face back down so he could see her face. "I mean it, Avory."
Her eyes were brimming with tears again and she sucked in a sharp, tremorous breath.
"You wouldn't," she closed her eyes and shook her head against his palm, "not if you knew everything."
Kaidan felt his heart break, not just at the agony in her voice, but the conviction. He could hear it, plain as day, she truly did believe, without a doubt, that whatever she was hiding would drive him away. The admission felt like a slap to the face.
He had been behind her since day one; every order, every run in with Udina, every call to the Council, he believed in her. He may not have made the same choices, or employed the same methods, but he respected the hell out of her for making those calls, decisions no one else could make. She had offered him a way out after Toombs, after the Cerberus scientist she brutalized with vengeance, and still he stayed by her side. Kaidan had made his decision long ago; he would choose her every time, every day, no matter what.
"All due respect, Shepard," his tone took on a sharper edge than he intended, but it proved effective in getting her to open her eyes and look at him once more, "you don't know that."
And there her eyes stayed, locked steady on his face as he picked up the soaked rag and began to work on the laceration above her brow. It was superficial, but it was a bleeder, the proof of which had crusted over her eyebrow and dripped onto her cheek. Kaidan employed the same method of care to her forehead; remove blood, clean, apply medi-gel. They were quiet again, but this time he could feel her stare boring into him, constantly searching every feature, though for what he did not know.
When he was satisfied with the wound on her forehead and all blood removed from her face, he handed her the soaked rag, instructed her to hold it to her lip. She did as told without a word, much to his surprise, and he got to work cleaning up the remaining supplies. Her eyes didn't leave him as he moved around the room, and when he came to rest next to her on the bed, she still continued to stare.
"You look tired."
"Don't worry about me, Shepard." Kaidan reached behind him to cup the back of his neck with his palm, his fingers digging in to knead the tense ropes of muscle there. "I think I'm faring better than you are right now."
His arm fell to his side and turned to look at her, pleased to find a small, sad smile pulling gently at the corners of her lips. There was gratitude in her eyes, a look he almost couldn't recognize on her features, but still her expression held such sadness, such foreboding. Kaidan knew there was nothing he could say to erase what happened in her dealings with the Reds, whether it happened in the past 24 hours or twenty years ago. All he could do was be there for her now, convince her somehow that he would not leave.
Kaidan slid his arm around behind her waist and pulled her into him, and she allowed herself to be snugged up against his side, her head falling to lay on his shoulder. Shepard usually ran hot, her flesh almost always flushed with heat and dewy with beads of sweat, but now, even so close to him, she felt cool and clammy.
Shepard shifted against his side and one of her hands found his knee, tentative and light against the fabric of his sweats. Kaidan stared down at where they connected, her flesh still bright red and angry, but clean, and waited. The way she picked nervously at the thick cotton material made his heart race; he knew she was close.
"I killed a lot of people before I joined the Alliance." Her nervous picking paused, as did her breathing, and Kaidan focused on drawing deep, steady breaths, silently begging her not to stop, not this time. When he didn't flinch, she continued. "I don't know how many. I stopped counting. But I didn't feel guilty, not like you did when you killed Vyrnnus. I..." she trailed off, drew in a deep breath, "At the time, I thought they deserved it and I was glad they were dead. I was glad I was the one who killed them. I still am."
Her fingers began to move on his knee again, tracing invisible patterns there and tickling the skin beneath his sweats, but he didn't dare pull away. It was a pleasant feeling, having her absentmindedly draw on him; watching her fingertips move along his leg reminded him of the way she often traced her lips when she was deep in thought, somewhere to expend the nervous energy building inside of her. Kaidan unhooked his hand from around her waist and dragged his fingers up along her spine, delighting in the way she shivered at his touch, and cradled the back of her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze, encouragement to keep going, silent confirmation that he was still there, that he always would be.
"That's how I got this scar," she lifted her head from his shoulder, gazed up at him beneath thick lashes, and tapped at the jagged pink line that undercut her right eye, "from one of them. And the woman responsible for it all..." another deep breath and she laid her head back on his shoulder, her fingers stilled on his knee, "I almost killed her today. I wanted to." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I should have."
Now it was Kaidan's turn to make his hands busy, and he stroked the back of her head and neck, following the thick bundle of hair all the way down to between her shoulder blades. "Why didn't you?" He kept his voice neutral, soft, continuing his soothing of her hair over and over.
"She made a better example if I left her alive."
A chill started in Kaidan's knee, where her hand suddenly felt like fire and shot up through his spine, into his brain where he felt his mind freeze over. For a brief eternity, Kaidan couldn't think, couldn't even begin to try to piece together the details of her story to make any sense. All he could do was stroke her hair, try to breathe. Inhale, exhale.
Even after what she had done to the scientist they found with Toombs, Kaidan had understood why Shepard lost her temper; most probably would after finding the group responsible for the slaughter of their entire unit. He would have done things differently, but he understood. And the way she had behaved after, tearing apart the cargo hold in a fit of rage, he had thought he had seen regret there. He had seen remorse in her eyes. At the time he had thought it was because she had killed the man, tortured him, but now...maybe she just regretted he had died before she was through with him.
"That's what I told Finch, anyway, because that's what he'll tell the Reds." Shepard shifted again against his shoulder and he felt his breath hitch, for a second fearful that she would look up at him and see the turmoil etched in his features, but she didn't look at him. "They don't work like the rest of the world. Dying for the Reds is an honor, makes you some kind of shitty street hero. But, I...she was still there, doing the same fucked up shit she was thirteen years ago. And so was I. And I just...I didn't want to anymore."
Kaidan felt her chest rise as she took in a deep breath and she pushed herself up off his shoulder. This time she did look at him and when he looked in her eyes, they were so troubled, so full of sorrow, of a heartache so deep he thought he might drown there.
"I thought about that scientist and how killing him did nothing, just another dead body for no fucking reason. And I thought about what you said...about all this old stuff tearing me up. You were right."
Shepard took the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth again and he saw her chin quiver for just a second before he couldn't hold back anymore. Kaidan turned so his whole body faced her and slipped his arms around her back, pulling her into him, completely engulfing her in his arms. She let out a small surprised squeal, but she settled into him, allowing herself to be held up against his chest, her face buried in his neck. For the time being, he imagined he was as happy as she that they couldn't see each other's faces.
His mind raced to process what she had just shared with him. Searching for information on Shepard before she joined up had proved to be as fruitful as trying to find God in the Milky Way. Though there were plenty of rumors, and Kaidan had heard them all. That Shepard was a government experiment, trained from birth to be a super soldier. That she had been raised by krogan, fought vorcha for fun. That she had killed a man with her bare hands before puberty. For years, he had laughed at the ridiculous stories people crafted in lieu of facts. Now, he wondered how close to the truth some of them had gotten.
Then, he wondered not how many people she had killed before the Alliance, but under what circumstances a child would murder anyone to begin with. Kaidan was a teenager himself when he killed Vyrnnus, and whether it was an accident or not, it had taken years of abuse to build the white hot rage which had exploded that day. For Shepard to have lost count of her victims before turning eighteen…
Questions surged to the forefront of his mind, the desire to probe for more information, for an explanation, crashed over him. Multiple times, words rushed to the tip of his tongue: why, how, when? Who was the woman responsible for it all? How many of Shepard's other scars came from her victims? What could the Reds possibly have done to a little girl to turn her into a murder? And how in the hell did someone with such a muddled past grow into the amazing woman resting against him now?
The thought hit Kaidan like a freight train. Regardless of how she had grown up, what she had done as a kid, how she spoke about herself like she was this cold, unfeeling killing machine, Kaidan knew differently. He saw how she took care of the crew, working out of sight and after hours, refusing to take credit for all the things she did for them, for all the things they accomplished under her leadership. He had repaired the plumbing on Feros under direct order from her, while she staved off invading geth.
Frequently, she chalked up her actions to duty, just doing what needed to be done because no one else would, or could. She tried to convince him and everyone else that her motivation came from a place of disdain for other people not being able to handle their own affairs, but no one threw themselves on a grenade for people they cared nothing about.
Kaidan held her tight until he could feel her erratic heartbeat slow to a steady pace, and their breathing nearly synchronized, coming in deep, calming breaths. Finally, he pulled away just enough that he could see her face, tipped up at him now with heavily lidded eyes. He took a deep breath, felt his stomach grow warm with admiration. He didn't need to know Shepard's entire past to know who she was now.
"That's what you were so afraid to tell me this whole time? Shepard, I...look, I'm with you. Until the end." Once more, Kaidan brought his hand up to cup her neck, his fingers hooked around the back of her neck, his thumb softly stroking the smooth skin just in front of her ear, dipping below her jawline. "When I say I'm not going anywhere, I mean it. Okay?"
Shepard nodded up at him, a shadow of doubt still cast over her features.
"Besides, I could get used to you telling me I'm right." Kaidan cracked a grin.
Shepard snorted a laugh, but the stretching of her lips caused the split there to crack open and she hissed in pain, snaking her hand up to hold the tear in her bottom lip. "Damn it, Alenko." She cursed against the back of her hand, but he could hear the humor in her voice. "Don't let it go to your head."
Kaidan let out a quiet chuckle and leaned back, pulling Shepard down onto the bed with him. "No promises."
Time slowed to a standstill as they lied there, wrapped in each others arms on her bed. This was the closest they had been so far, the most open Shepard had ever allowed herself to be. And there, lost in deep pools of gun metal, the feel of her pressed against him, the smell of her, grapefruit and mint still lingering despite the musty scent of her sweat and another's blood still flaked on her arms. Kaidan didn't want to ever leave. And as he watched her eyes search his, scan over every feature of his face, and as he felt her fingertips begin to trace distracted circles on the small of his back, he suspected she didn't want time to start again either.
Unfortunately, time was not a luxury they had.
"You should probably sneak out of here before everyone starts waking up." Shepard offered, her voice just barely above a whisper, as if she were afraid someone outside their haven might hear.
Kaidan nodded his head, "Yeah, I uh, I guess I should."
For another breath, neither moved. Kaidan savored the last few seconds he had lying next to her and then, begrudgingly, removed his arms from around her and pushed himself upright and off the bed. She sat up as well, propped up on elbows and he could feel her eyes still on him as he forced himself to head for the door.
"Kaidan," Shepard said, "you know that's not everything. You might still want to run away."
Looking back at her over his shoulder, his hand hovering over the door control, he almost laughed. The sight of her made his heart skip a beat and at that moment, he would have given nearly anything for the opportunity to climb back onto that bed and stay wrapped up in her arms for the next 48 hours. He was in too deep to run away now.
Kaidan cast her a sleepy grin, "No, I won't."