I don't trust easily.
Although the number of "true" friends has grown substantially in the past three years, I can still count them on two hands – and if I started getting really picky, on one. If we're counting the ones who would gun me down if I stepped out of line, that's two fingers.
It worries me, sometimes, that people see the Legendary Commander Shepard and miss Vea entirely. Nobody should be on that high a pedestal. Nobody should be infallible. Nobody should be unstoppable.
I've started a count on how many times I've heard, "We couldn't win this war without you." I'm at twenty-seven since last week. The worst part is that it's something said by even those closest to me – even the two that would take me out. They'd gun me down, but they'd still feel like they just shot their best chance in the head.
What I've been trying to do is become that Commander Shepard. Perfect. Unstoppable. Unflappable.
It means that I have a lot of thoughts I don't share.
ooo
Shepard was vengeance personified as they storm the Cerberus base. She made every shot count, and gave her orders with ruthless efficiency. Within ten minutes, they'd cleared the hangar bay, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. Kaidan had seen her determined, he had seen her take on impossible odds and clear bases that had no proper cover, but there was something utterly cold about the way she blasted through the bodies of those Cerberus troops.
He couldn't help but wonder if this was the Commander Shepard that led the assault on Torfan. It wasn't a fair thought – he was just as worked up about Sanctuary as she was, just as upset over their loss on Thessia, but Shepard threw even her own well-being out the window. She charged at turrets, sliding into cover just moments before her shields were set to give out completely. When troopers got too close, she pounced on them, her omni-blade flashing. She even grabbed the attention of the atlas, shouting orders for him and EDI to overload that sonofabitch.
Then they came to the console.
"It hasn't been scrubbed, if you'd like to look at it, Commander," said EDI, hacking the door.
Neither of them really knew what to expect, so when the Illusive Man appeared on the vid with a Cerberus scientist, talking about how Shepard had been clinically brain dead, about how there was almost no chance for recovery, they were both caught off guard. The word spaced rattled around in Kaidan's head, and he felt as though someone had cut off his own airflow.
"Clinically brain dead," he repeated. "Do you remember anything?" The second the words were out of his mouth, he realized he didn't want to know, so he fumbled on. "I mean – how do you feel?"
"I'm still me," she said, but for the first time, he could hear a thread of doubt in her mind. "I feel exactly the same." Her arms dropped to her sides, but she was still stiff, her muscles knotted together. "Unless... Unless I'm just an advance VI programmed to think it's Commander Shepard."
Her standing right there, doubting her identity, asking herself all those questions he'd asked of her... She'd dismissed them so vehemently in the past, yet now after seeing the horrors of Sanctuary, now knowing exactly what Cerberus was capable of, she wasn't sure. It broke his heart, and he wished not for the first time that he could go back in time and take back all those things he'd said.
"You're real enough for me," he whispered.
At first she didn't respond, and Kaidan wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't heard or because she didn't believe. Finally, though, she nodded. "We don't have time to dwell on it now, anyways."
When she passed him, she squeezed his hand. He wanted to squeeze back, but she'd already moved on, gun prepped, ready to be Commander Shepard once more.
