"Shepard?" he called out into the empty house, his voice echoing across the front hall and through the kitchen. "Shepard, are you home?" Silence answered him. He tossed his keys into the bowl on the counter and walked through the kitchen, then up the stairs to their bedroom. "Shepard?" His breathing started to pick up a little. Was she okay? She hadn't said she was going out earlier. "Are you here?"

He took a few steps towards the bedroom when he heard it. Crying. Weeping. Wailing. It was like a wounded animal, hardly human, filled with so much sorrow that it was the only sound that could possibly come from a person. He knew the sound well. He'd only heard it a few times from her in reality, but it haunted his worst dreams, when he managed to sleep deep enough to dream, anyway. His pulse quickened, the vein on his neck starting to throb in his panic. "Shepard!" he called out, rushing over to the door. He jigged the knob. It was locked

"Shepard, let me in," he begged. "Please, baby, what's wrong? What's going on, what's wrong?" he pleaded, running his fingers over the door. Her cries increased on the other side in response.

"Oh no, oh no, no, no," she said quietly, her voice clearly trembling. "No, no, no."

"Let me in, Shepard, or I'm blowing the door down, so help me," his biotics flared in response to his words. His hands shook. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what was wrong this time. A sick feeling rushed through his stomach, and a small part of him started to realize what it could be. He shook his head and kicked himself for assuming the worst.

She hadn't budged on the other side. "Let me in," he said sternly, sinking to a crouching position, trying to guess her posture on the other side of the door. He could feel the weight of what she was feeling creeping onto his shoulders, into his heart, where he carried the rest of her burdens. She still made no movement on the other side of the door. He rose to his feet and gripped the doorknob in his hand. Carefully, he crushed the metal knob with a blue flash and it crumpled into his hand, lock and all. He pushed the door away and found her there on the floor of the small bathroom.

She sat defeated, slumped against the bathtub, one hand clutched across her stomach. His heart dropped. He rushed to her side and crouched next to her, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her gaze was candy-apple red, and absolutely exhausted. Her eyes met his for a second, the worst kind of sorrow filling him to the core. She started to cry again, her hand balling into a fist over her stomach. "No, no, no," she kept saying, shaking her head. She leaned back against the tub and bent her neck back, letting an animalistic groan rip from her throat.

"What's wrong? What happened, Shepard, talk to me. Please, I'm begging you, please. Please." He started out stern but slowly faded into worry and equal sadness. Tears rushed to his eyes. He felt sick. He already knew what was wrong, he didn't need her to say the words. He knew.

Both of her hands clutched her lower stomach and she curled in on herself. She shook her head as another sob ripped from her body. "Kaid-" she managed to choke out. Her voice was broken. "The baby."

"No, oh no, Shepard, no," he breathed, running his fingers through his hair. "Not again."

She tried to hold her composure for a moment, but she shook her head, bursting into sobs again. He stood on shaking legs and got a facecloth from the closet and wet it. He crouched, and almost instinctually, he wiped it over her face and neck, somehow cleaning her, cooling her, calming her. He handed it to her and she palmed it, slowly wiping her hands. He sat down next to her and pulled her as close as he could. She slumped helplessly into his body, crying harder into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she cried through gritted teeth. "Kaidan, I'm so sorry."

"Stop," he said firmly, taking her by the shoulders. Her body moved along with his movements, hanging limp in his hands. She was so empty, he could see it. Gone. "This is not your fault. None of this is your fault, Shepard, none of it."

"I'm sorry," she cried again, burying her face in his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Kaid," her shoulders heaved as the words left her mouth. Her hand still clutched her stomach. He took her fingers away from her shirt and laced them into his own.

"Shh," he breathed into her hair. "It's gonna be okay, Shepard. It'll be okay. We'll go to the doctor's, we'll be okay, it'll be okay. We're gonna figure it out."

"I'm sorry," she wept into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop, stop," he ran his hand over her hair. "Stop that, don't say that," he whispered, trying to hold his composure. He couldn't do it. "Oh, Shepard…"

He pulled her closer to him, burying his face in her neck. Her small cries got lost in his skin, her breath drifted over his chest and onto his shoulder. His jaw trembled as he choked back his tears, but they came anyway. His sturdy shoulders rolled in and his spine curled, his defenses finally breaking. Snapping what was already bent. She noticed the change in his posture and it only made her cry more. Her hand took a fistful of his shirt, but he grabbed up her other hand in his and ran his thumb over her knuckles, the tenderness of his touch through everything chilling her to the bone. He shook his head and rubbed his cheek against hers, trying to process, trying to figure out what to do. It was just another loss, another grieving process, another casualty in the battlefield of his personal life. How much could they lose?

When he'd rubbed her back and talked her down long enough to get her to her feet, he helped her get dressed and packed an overnight bag for the two of them. He made her drink some water and ever coaxed her into eating a few crackers before getting into the skycar. He held her hand the entire way there, even though he was the one driving. She alternated between silent tears and edging on sleeping for the ride there. Kaidan called ahead at the hospital and talked straight to Doctor Chakwas herself. She cleared her schedule to a few cooperative coworkers and was ready to see them as soon as they got in.

God knows they were going to need her.

He kept her arm around her as they walked through the long halls of the hospital. She didn't cry. A stoic expression had taken her tears' place, and she walked like she usually did, tall and strong. He was the only one who could notice the defensive curl of her back, the stiffness in her shoulders. She was making a tremendous effort to make it seem like she was okay. Or maybe it was just instinct for her, at that point. Kaidan's eyes searched for Chakwas' personal office, but he already knew the way. Two more corners, third door on the left. He didn't need to look. He just didn't know what to do with himself. His head was swimming.

They stood outside the door and Shepard leaned closer into him, her hand wrapping around his wrist. He kissed her carefully. Without a word, he knocked on the door. "Karin Chakwas, M.D." the nameplate read. She was more than that to both of them, but today they needed her to be just that: their doctor. The door slid open and she appeared before them, eyes full of worry.

"Commander, Major Alenko, please come in," she said breathlessly, ushering them through the door. He held her close as they entered the office. "Sit, sit, I'll get you into a proper room in a moment. Can I get you anything?"

He looked over at Shepard, who didn't even seem to notice that she'd been asked a question. "I think we're all set, Doctor, thank you…"

She gazed at Shepard, concern etched into every line on her face. "Alright, well I'll call up right now, and then I'll get situated for an exam," she sighed softly, almost regretfully. Kaidan nodded. Shepard sat still, staring at the photos behind the doctor's desk. Cards from various people she'd helped, some familiar, some not. Families. Her eyes twitched away from the wall and fell to the floor. Kaidan's hand tightened around hers.

Chakwas examined her and took her usual step-by-step through the process. Kaidan stayed by her side the entire time, as much as it hurt to hear the words they'd both been dreading, to let go of the life they'd hoped would have a chance to grow this time. It was the second time for them. They'd prayed that the first time was just bad luck, maybe too soon, too much trauma, they weren't ready, her body was still healing. This, though, seemed to be more than a coincidence. Chakwas cleaned up and brought in a wheelchair to bring Shepard to a room for overnight observation. "Just in case," she said. Her eyes were apologetic, but stern.

They got her settled in bed, brought her water and food they knew she wasn't going to consume. She rolled over onto her side and faced the window in silence. Kaidan gave Chakwas a weary look, but she looked at the Commander, curled up in her sheets.

"Major, could I speak with you privately?" she asked softly, her eyes still on Shepard. He nodded and walked out the door without hesitation. He closed the door behind them, leaving Shepard alone.

"Kaidan, I've done everything that I can," she started softly. Her words hung in the rubbing-alcohol scented air of the hallway, floating under the harsh fluorescents. "I'd have to say that this could be a possible consequence of the Lazarus Project. I think you or Shepard should speak with Miranda Lawson, see if she knows anything about this."

He furrowed his brow, reaching up to run his hands through his hair. "But she was aligned with Cerberus, Doc, I don't think I want to know the gory details," he sighed, exhausted.

"Well, if there's any chance you plan on trying again, which I feel there might be, I'd recommend a phone call. She's going to be the person that has an answer for you, because right now, I don't know. This isn't my area of work, I only know the basics to take care of her right now. And God knows she won't go see another doctor that might know a bit more about the… rebuilding process. Miranda is your only viable option right now."

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll call her. I just—"

"You're afraid of the answer you're going to get, Major," she murmured.

"Maybe I am," he said quietly, his omni-tool folding out as he searched for Miranda's number.

"Best of luck. I'll be downstairs if she needs me. If you need me. By the way, how have the migraines been? Taking your medications?" she couldn't resist her usual check-up with him.

"I've been better," he answered, absentminded, as he turned to walk away.

/ / /

"Miss Lawson," Kaidan addressed her quietly as her image flickered to life on his omnitool. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Major Alenko, you weren't who I was expecting… Is everything alright?" she asked.

"I… No, um, it's not," he sighed, looking away from his omnitool. "Shepard, she… she miscarried again."

"I… oh no," she breathed on the other end. He looked up, shocked by the tone of her voice. The first time it had happened, Shepard had let her know over the extranet. "Oh Kaidan, I'm sorry."

"It's uh, alright," he said, a little confused by her sympathies. "Miss Lawson, I need to know—"

"Call me Miranda," she insisted quietly. He nodded.

"Miranda, Doctor Chakwas asked me to speak with you about this. I need to know if this could be some sort of result of Project Lazarus. Can she even… have kids? Or should we stop trying? Is her body rejecting the… I uh, I don't need to know the details, I just need… I don't know. I don't know. Answers."

"I made damn sure she'd be able to have kids when I revived her," she said, a sudden burst of conviction fueling her voice. "I made damn sure. Her body is able to support life, I made sure, I ran all the calculations, all the tests, I made sure…" By the way her picture shifted, he could tell she was pacing the floor, wherever she was. "I'm so sorry that this happened, but it can't be because…"

"Miranda, it's alright if it is," he said quietly. "I'm more than thankful you brought her back. I know we haven't always agreed on the means, but I wouldn't be anywhere without her. If it means that we can't have kids, then that's what it means. It's okay," he said, holding back the rest of the emotions threatening to spill out of him.

"No!" she cried on the other end, turning back to meet his eyes through the screen. "No, that's not alright. It's not. Kaidan, I made sure she could conceive, I made sure. I wasn't going to make the mistake my father made."

"The… what?" he asked.

"I can't have children," she said, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miranda," he said. Understanding washed over him. She'd poured her heart and soul into rebuilding Shepard, into making sure that Shepard could have the things she couldn't.

"Don't be," she said firmly, her voice returning to its usual composed state. "If you want me to, I could fly out to you and run some tests, do some research. I just don't want her to feel like she's a test subject. She's spent enough time under the microscope for a lifetime."

"I'll talk it over with her soon, I'll let you know." He looked at the door, where she was still alone on the other side.

"How is she doing?" she asked, voice softening.

"She's uh, she's not well. I don't know. I hope this doesn't shut her down. Things were starting to get better. The first time was hard enough as it was. She was so happy when she found out we had another chance at it. Being parents, I mean." He pushed back a threatening round of tears.

"I'm sorry, Kaidan. I am," she said.

"Don't be. I've got to go back in, see how she is, but thank you."

"Keep me posted," she said. "Send her all my best."

He nodded. "Alenko out," he said, clicking out of the call. He slumped over, pressing his head to the wall. His fist met the hard surface once before he composed himself and stopped his careless action.

He walked back to the room and opened the door, trying to stay silent in case she was sleeping. He eased himself into the chair next to her and leaned over. His hand brushed her arm. She stirred a little bit, her old sign to him that she was awake but didn't want to talk. He hadn't seen her like this since he'd brought her home from the hospital after the war.

"Shepard," he breathed, standing over her again. He ran his hand over her waist and waited at her hip. Slowly, she moved to one side of the bed, leaving room for him to lay next to her. He lowered himself down onto the pillow and wrapped his arms around her. She remained stiff in his grasp, but she allowed him to hold her closer. "I spoke with Miranda. She sends her best."

She made a little sound of confirmation. He buried his face between her shoulder-blades, unsure of what else to do. He breathed her in, the smell of her skin, berries and gun oil and her shampoo, combining with the harsh cleanliness of the scrubs they'd given her to sleep in. He pressed his lips to where her neck met her shoulders and shut his eyes. She sucked in a breath and he could tell she was going to cry again. He snaked his arms down around her stomach.

"She was going to be so beautiful," she whimpered. His lips trembled as his composure started to pull apart.

"She?" he asked softly. He pulled her closer.

"I know she was a girl, I just know," she said, a strange conviction coming over her.

"I believe you," he said. One of his hands traveled upwards to her face to catch the tears that had started to roll down her face. "I always do."

"I just want to be a mom, Kaidan, you know what he said to me?

"Who?" he asked, sitting up a little. He leaned against the wall and pulled her onto his chest.

"Anderson," she said through her teeth. More tears. "He told me, when he was… was dying, that I'd, uh," she stopped, pressing her lips into a hard line. He knew she hated crying in front of him. "I'd make a great mother. That's what he said. To think about how proud my kids would be, to say their mother is Commander Shepard."

"Well, he's right. You've done great things. This is just another page in the story," he said quietly, treading in sensitive territory.

"But when do things start working out in our favor? When is the war really gonna be over?" she asked, her nails digging into the flesh of his abdomen through his shirt. He rubbed her back once again.

"Shepard," he whispered. "Shepard, the war's over. Let everyone else keep fighting for themselves. We won. It doesn't feel like it, I know, but we've won. Have you been having nightmares again?" he asked. She shut her eyes.

"When do they stop?"

Her answer hit him like a brick to the face. He blinked twice and took a deep breath. He focused in on the rise and fall of her chest against his, the slight shift of her hair as she nestled in closer to him. She breathed deeply and ran her hand over his chest.

"Who are you thinking about?"

"Ash always told me she wanted a family. To raise kids like her parents raised her and her sisters."

Kaidan nodded. "Imagine what she'd think if she saw us now," he said. "Starting over."

"She's watching out for us," Shepard said. "She should be here."

A long silence passed between them. She stared at the wall as Kaidan tried to think of what to say, what do to, what he could do for her. She moved up closer to him and kissed his neck. She lingered there, her breath coming in and out gently against his earlobe. His head slumped against the wall as he held back more tears.

"When do we get to start over?" she asked. Her question hung there between them, thick in the air.

"When we let go," he said into her hair. A few stray tears left her eyes. "When we're ready."