a/n: Immediately after Horizon. Italicized text are pertinent lyrics from Walk Away by Chris Clouse. Alternating perspectives. And I don't own Mass Effect.


Walk Away


The voice inside me shouts out loud.

The silence feels more silent now.

She lay in the bed in her quarters staring at the galaxy stretched out before her. It was quiet in the room. Too quiet, silent. Like a tomb. In the silence, she could hear his voice from within. Before, it had always been a comfort, lifting her up, letting her do the impossible. Now, it dripped with acidic anger that burned her with ever syllable.

"You betrayed the Alliance. You betrayed me."

No, Never.

She wanted to scream then. She still wanted to. But all that would answer her now would be silence. Closing her eyes, she sighed heavily.

"Be careful." he had said as he walked away. And she let him.

Why did I just watch him go? She thought.

She had been paralyzed—like she was in a stasis field of her own making, but that was ridiculous; she was no biotic. Regardless, the effect was the same. The silence was paralyzing her now, stealing her breath, chipping away at her heart. It was oppressive. She pressed her hands to her ears to try to block out the silence that filled itself with the memory of his voice. She turned to her sound system and fiddled with it until a pounding rhythm filled the room. She felt the music in her chest rather than hearing it. Its pulsing beat echoing her heartbeat. She could breathe, but it was shaky as she felt a sob wrack her body.
"No. I will not cry for him." She sniffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "If he's moved on, then dammit, so will I." She closed her eyes, letting the pounding rhythm issuing from the speakers lull her to sleep.


I want to feel like I'm not just slipping away.

He kept to himself on his rotation back to the Citadel aboard the SSV Tokyo.

One of the benefits of rank, he thought to himself as he sat at an empty table in the mess. He pushed his food around his plate, not really caring to eat and not tasting when he does. Crew changes came and went in a swirl around him, but he didn't notice. His mind reeled with memories.

Ilos,

Saren and the aftermath,

rebuilding,

parties and receptions filled with stolen moments,

steamy nights after long days mopping up the Geth,

flames,

her eyes as she give him that last command,

explosions,

the Normandy disintegrating in front of his eyes,

and his heart shattering with it.

The darkness that followed,

faking migraines so he would be able to get access to more meds than normal,

sleeping for days after taking them.

Blurs of time passing that he didn't remember, except for the weight of a bottle in his fist.

The barrel of his pistol pressed against his chin.

The risks taken in the line of duty,

And tears... so many tears.

He felt himself slipping into the despair that once gripped him so completely as he walked toward Anderson's office on the Citadel. Moving on autopilot, he didn't even notice that the ship had arrived, much less his disembarkation.

This time, however, the despair was tinged with red flashes of anger. Maybe she was right. Maybe he didn't understand, but that didn't change the fact that she stood there and turned her back on everything they had fought so hard for. That she hadn't tried to contact him. He felt the urge to slam his fist into the wall, but the door to Anderson's office slid open before he could. He could feel his anger tugging on him, threatening to drown him as he stepped through the door.


'Cause I heard you say that it would never be the same.

Her ears were ringing as she woke to the cacophony of drum beats and driving rhythms filling her cabin. But over it all, her mind still replayed their confrontation in crystal clarity.

"It'll be like old times."

"No. It won't." His voice was bitter, angry. And tears threatened to fall again. She bit her lip, letting anger wash over her as she showered and dressed. Seeing his image on her desk flicker on as she passed, she stopped. Picking up the frame, she ran her fingers lightly over the image before hurling it at the wall.

"You're right, Kaidan. It won't." She decided to see what Garrus was up to.

I'll give him a reason to think I betrayed him, she thought as she stepped out of the door.


So many ways you can move still you're standing still.

He stepped into the small apartment that was serving as his quarters while on the Citadel, blinking as the lights came up automatically as he entered. He set the package in his hand onto the table by the door as he pulled off his boots. Grabbing one of the bottles, he padded across the room and sat in the center of the bed. Finally taking the time to check his messages, he skimmed the senders as he cracked the bottle's seal. Nothing struck him as urgent; the few messages from the doctor a friend had set him up with, but he could deal with that later. His head was still swimming in despair and anger. He didn't even bother with a glass. The alcohol burned as it went down, but it didn't burn away what was eating him up inside.

It hadn't before either.

"Why did I just walk away?" he asked the air, hoping it would answer him for once.

He tossed the first bottle to the floor and cracked open the second. His therapist had suggested before that he write down what he was feeling, to just get it out in the open instead of bottling it up, that he write letters and never send them. It wouldn't be the first time he addressed such a letter to her. He activated a composition screen via his omni-tool. The keyboard was blurry, so he switched to voice command. The alcohol fuzzy in his brain, he started talking.

"Shepard..." he breathed, before rambling on. He didn't know what all he said, he just spoke, trying to get out what he's feeling but feeling like anything he said was... not enough. Eventually, he could feel his eyes getting heavy as sleep called to him.

"Look, when things settle down a little... maybe... I don't know... just take care." He signed off, laying back, his eyes drifting shut. A beep on the device stirred him, asking for input before shut down. He hit send instead of save.