"Hey Shepard," Kaidan calls from her right as he walks over to her, "you okay?"
She looks away from the memorial wall, but doesn't move her fingers from where they are tracing the names. The expression on her face is already changing; not to professionalism or aggression, but to an easy smile that reveals almost nothing. No one ever realises that; they never realise just how long she has been forcing the ease into her body language, into her voice, until it is easy.
"I'm fine, Kaidan," she looks back to the wall, "just thinking."
"That wasn't your 'just thinking' face, Shepard," he tells her, walking closer. "What's actually bothering you?"
Alarms flick on in her mind, and she is tempted to run, or sweat, any of those hundreds of things someone who hasn't spent their entire youth lying to survive might do. Instead she just meets his gaze again, head tilted up to look into his eyes. "Honestly and seriously Kaidan, I have no idea what you're talking about."
Right then, she doesn't know what he's going to do. He might call her on her BS, or believe her. He might glare, but then walk away, or he might give her his patented "Seriously, Shepard?" look. She struggles to predict him now, and after how easy he used to be to manipulate, to understand... he's changed. For the better. Apparently her two years dead had a few good consequences, though if she hadn't this war might be going better, might... No. There's no point wasting time on might-have-beens.
She doesn't expect him to grab her shoulder, and then look into her eyes like he's trying to get the answers from her soul. He doesn't say anything, and it's too intense, and after less than a second she flinches from the stare, feeling her mask shattering like cheap plaster. She looks at the memorial wall, trying to find something steady, something that won't knock her entirely off balance. But she reaches up a hand to keep his there, even if she can't look him in the eye, even if he's breaking her barriers just by being in her presence.
"Talk to me, Shepard," he whispers softly, his other hand turning her face back to his. She tries to look him in the eye, draw back just a little, regain her composure... she can't, shaking off his hand and closing her eyes. It's too public, here... she's breaking and anyone could see.
She shakes him off, and has to swallow deep in her throat just to get the courage to look him in the eyes. "Captain's cabin." Her voice sounds weak, professionalism forced into it. "I can't... we can talk there."
He looks at her for a few more seconds, and she has to force herself to stay upright, to keep looking at him. She's looked people in the eyes before, looked Kaidan in the eyes. But no one has ever tried to read her like this, not even him. She doesn't know how to deal with this. "I'll be there in a minute," he tells her, and she just nods. She doesn't have her voice.
She turns away, and the elevator doesn't take long to get to her quarters. It never really does.
She finds herself pacing, glancing at the empty aquarium that she is never going to fill. Then she sits and buries her face in her hands, short black hair swishing in front of her face. She starts building up her mask again, bit by bit. Maybe she could get him to let it go.
Then he walks through that door and her plan is shot to pieces. The smile she'd struggled so hard to hold is gone like it never existed, and she's staring at the floor.
"Shepard."
And now she's looking away from where he's coming closer. Studying the wall like it's utterly fascinating. Shiny, metallic... she could describe it for ages, so long as she doesn't need to look at him..
She finally manages to get her words out, and she somehow sounds calm and professional, not lost. "What do you want to know, exactly?" Her voice barely trembles.
"I don't know, Shepard," and now he's sighing at her, like she's a child not learning a lesson, "you never actually talk about yourself. Not to anyone."
"You all know my past." She could almost convince herself she sounded normal. But she couldn't look like it. "You know the stuff I've done, most of my little quirks. What am I supposed to say?"
Another sigh, and the air shifts, and then the bed as he sits next to her. "Tell me how you feel about the war."
"The war?" her voice twists darkly and she looks at Kaidan. "It's horrible, and it's already gone on too long. That is what we're doing on the Normandy, Kaidan. Ending it."
He nods, but he's watching her closely and she barely keeps herself from squirming. "How are you holding up? You've got all our hopes pinned on you. That's got to be heavy."
She shrugs, leaning into him. "I'm holding up okay." She says it with a completely straight face, no tremors in her. I haven't slept for longer than two hours at a time since the Reapers attacked Earth. I keep having nightmares, of fire and death, or the cold unending woods. I can't ever be certain of the choices I make, and I keep dealing with the devil. I'm lying to you, Kaidan. And I'm never going to tell the truth, am I?
"You're feeding us all bullshit, aren't you Shepard?" She doesn't even register the words for a moment, they're so calm and casual, and then she draws back on instinct. Kaidan, what?
He's looking at her now. "We all buy it because you never break down, not where we can see. But you're not holding up okay, are you? Shepard," he hisses out an angry breath, "talk to me."
And he sounds so certain, so pleading, and she can tell that he's grown up now, and the barriers are breaking. They'll never collapse completely, this isn't even close; but he's managed to grab her heart and squeeze. She breaks.
"I feel wrong," she finds herself confessing, burying her head in her hands so she doesn't have to see him. "I'm supposed to be the hero, but I have enough trouble finding the most valuable thing to do, the thing that will help the war most; I just can't seem to work out the right thing to do, the thing that's good."
Her voice is about to break, and there should be tears but there aren't anymore left in her. Not after her childhood on the streets. Not after Torfan, and Virmire, and Horizon. Not after the Collector base. She doesn't have anymore.
There's silence for a few moments. Then, "I could have shot you, you know. Killed you. But I wouldn't have killed you, there are so many different ways I could have taken you out if you wouldn't listen. Didn't shoot you in the end. But I could have. It wouldn't have been difficult." She laughs, voice thick, and rolls backwards into the middle of her bed. "I was going to shoot Udina for you, you know. I was an instant away. I wanted to, and that's even worse, isn't it? Actually wanting to kill someone. I never used to. I only wanted to take Saren down, even if that meant killing him. I never used to want to kill." She shakes her head, then glances up as Kaidan turns his head to see her. She thinks he's about to speak, but she has something else to say first.
"You were right when you said I'd changed. More right than I wanted - hell still don't want - to think about. But I'm not the only one. I think we've all grown up, Kaidan. So, when you ask me if I've changed, think for a moment about how hypocritical it is. We've both changed." Something angry has taken up residence in her tone, and she bites off every word as if it's mortally insulted her. Kaidan had had no idea she'd felt like this.
"I- Shepard, this is why you talk to people!" he hisses angrily, eyes dark with fury. He twists his entire body around on the too-soft bed. "How are we supposed to know how you feel when you keep all of us at arm's length, me at arm's length!"
She's trembling, and shaking her head back and forth. "Everyone wants to talk, and everyone wants to be my be-damned therapist! I do just fine, except when you all decide to make me spill my guts to you." She rolls off the bed and gets to her feet with that feline grace she's spent years learning and training for. She leans against the wall.
She's still shaking.
"Shepard- " She holds up her hand.
It takes her long seconds to get her composure back, but then she turns to him. "I spent my entire youth on the streets, Kaidan, and I wasn't the 'plucky young thief.' I ran with the Reds, I stole, even ended up killing people long before I'd ever held a gun. My life was nothing but survival, and then my life was nothing but the military, nothing but being professional and stoic and shooting guns. You expect me, somehow, to have learned to talk about my feelings?"
He regards her for a long moment, then walks around the bed to her. "I trust that you'll make the right choice, Shepard," he says softly, and she blinks, not understanding what he's talking about now. He's quiet for a moment, as if thinking about what he should say, then, "It isn't a bad thing that you will do whatever is necessary, even if it means killing someone. And this war takes its toll on everyone, and I think that for you to be affected so little as you are is more than anyone could hope after all this. And you're right that I never thought about how much I had changed since you died, when I was angry with you for changing. I'm sorry about that," he tells her, voice soft and sincere. "And no, Shepard, I don't expect you to have learned how to talk about your feelings. I only want you to try to talk to me."
There was silence in that room for a while, as Kaidan looked at her with naked hope and she holds an expressionless mask on her face as she thinks through everything he'd said. Then she blinks, and her mask dissolves like paper in water and she goes to him, curling up at his side.
"I don't know if I can," she whispers, voice echoing in the silence.
Kaidan gently lifts her chin to look him in the eye. "Just try, Shepard."
"My name is Elera," she tells him, entirely out of the blue, voice irritated and almost young. "I might be Shepard. But I'm also Elera."
Kaidan looked at her for a moment. "Elera," he whispers, as if tasting the word. Then he tugs her closer into a hug. "Elera."
She hugs him back.