Shepard awoke in a heavy sweat, soaked down to the sheets. He dragged himself off the bed to the laundry hamper, shedding his damp clothes for dry sweats and his N7 jacket. He needed to change his bedsheets sooner rather than later, but his nightmare remained with him, stifling the air in his quarters until his only coherent thought screamed out, "Leave!"
So he slipped on some comfortable shoes and padded down to the mess, a welcome getaway from the stale dream left behind upstairs. He yearned for company, someone to break him away from his thoughts, someone to pull him back from re-entering his nightmare in an awakened state. And tea might be nice, something to soothe his nerves back so he could reclaim sleep in the later hours of the night.
John shuffled into the dark of the mess hall, eyes half-closed, as he felt his way around the room, avoiding tables and countertops. He used the light from the coffeemaker to read the container of tea leaves, checking to make sure it contained chamomile and not caffeine, before dropping some into a strainer and heating up water.
When he came back out into the main area, his eyes now adjusted to the dark, he noticed someone sitting alone at one of the tables, a shadow of a figure that sipped their own mug. How long did they linger there? Enough to see Shepard's stumble past them to get to the kitchen?
"Can't sleep either, Commander?" Kaidan's voice rumbled out of the figure's mouth, a comfort of its own. Kaidan knew enough about him that he didn't need to explain his bout of restlessness. Kaidan didn't ask questions, even if he had them. They could exist in this space, in the silence that brewed between them, an allowance for John to relax and drop his guard.
John slid in the empty space across from Kaidan, hands cupping his mug to retain some of its warmth. "It's getting bad again, Kay."
The Major's shadow nodded as if John didn't need to explain. Shepard kept his nightmares secret from all of the crew back on the SR-1, and even on the SR-2, but his old lover knew everything about his life, past and present, even if they weren't together at the current time.
"Which?"
Kaidan knew of his every nightmare, from Mindoir down to Akuze, from his siblings' dead faces adrift in front of him, blaming him, down to his crew on Akuze, doing the same. But the nightmares silenced themselves for the short amount of time that Kaidan shared John's bed on the SR-1. Shepard couldn't ask that of him again, not after everything. Bad blood still existed there, in the dark of the space, something unmentionable and fragile between them.
Still, John held out his hand, searching for something solid to hold onto, something to ground him after his most recent nightmare, a memory of suffocating above Alchera. He needed Kaidan there, and his XO accepted this mission as he took ahold of Shepard's outstretched hand, thumb running over the back of it in an attempt to keep him sane.
"Nothing good," John finally remembered to reply, using Kaidan's hand as an anchor to ground him there in the darkened mess. His throat still burned from lack of oxygen, from the claw marks as he fought atmosphere for air. His nightmares kept their bad habit of tangling with reality; real, tangible events that fucked with his mind as he re-lived them over and over again.
He sipped his steaming tea as he and Kaidan stared at each other through the black, Kaidan attempting to read his thoughts to figure out which one so he knew how to comfort John. But John brushed the Major's thoughts away, instead focusing down on their hands, his solid piece to return to when his mind grew too grim.
Kaidan didn't know of the new nightmares, his death or Horizon or the little boy from back on Earth. They hadn't been privy to information about each other's lives for a long time, and the weight of that knowledge lingered thick between them too.
John gave up trying to escape his discontentment, finishing the rest of his mug and offering to take Kaidan's own. Kaidan relented, releasing his grip on both the mug and John. Shepard slipped into the kitchen to wash their cups before returning them to the cabin, no remnants left behind of their late night visit.
He offered a simple token of gratitude on his way back to the elevator, reluctant to enter his quarters once more. The sheets still needed changing before he could lay down, and he required new pajamas unless he chose to sleep in his current wear. His omni-tool dimmed the lights as Shepard climbed back into bed, anxious as he awaited sleep to overtake him once more, another nightmare lying in wait for his eyes to close.
But sleep came, as exhaustion took over to allow him to succumb. The nightmares did not.
When he awoke once more, a thick weight pressed against his back, arms enveloping him to keep him steady. An anchor, a safe ship against his sea of dreams. He didn't need to turn around to know Kaidan curled along the ridges of his body, a big spoon to his little.
John laid in his old lover's arms until the alarm rang, alerting him to his duties for the day. Kaidan stirred, rolling onto his back as a hand ran down his face. John followed suit, pretending to share his state of fresh awakening.
Kaidan frowned when he spotted John's blue eyes staring into his, an unasked question on Shepard's parted lips. What did this mean for them? Shepard didn't keep it a secret that he held onto his affections from the SR-1, that his heart fluttered at the thought of the close proximity it left them in a private cabin.
Kaidan kept his arm around Shepard's shoulder for a few more minutes before pulling back, rising to his feet to break this spell he cast them in. John watched, silent and unsure of how to proceed in the new territory.
But Kaidan hesitated, and to someone desperate, it was enough.
"Same time tonight?"
Kaidan's features flickered with something like hope before he nodded.