Shepard walked as quickly as her damaged leg would allow her, hindering her feeble attempt at a hasty retreat. The horrifically ugly floral pattern of the wallpaper coalesced into a montage of swirling color, eating away at the edges of her vision until her entire world was viewed from the far end of a tunnel. The hallway began warping; the floor became uneven and riddled with inexplicable ridges and bumps; the walls crept closer to her, leering at her as they boxed her into their tight confinement; the ceiling drooped low, and she instinctively ducked her head to avoid the crushing weight of the collapsed roof; the lights flickered and sputtered as the bright intensity of her vision began to wane, leaving her in darkened isolation. Her guilt addled mind twisted her perception and skewed her awareness of body, her centered weight suddenly off kilter and slanted to the left side – no, wait, the right side! Ah shit, now it's forward – and she found it progressively difficult to even stand straight. Her right leg throbbed with renewed pain, straining against the steely cast, as she lost her balance, causing her to stumble forward and twist the appendage at an awkward angle, pulling healing tissue and bone as they screamed their resistance.
She let herself fall weakly against the wall; the cheap wallpaper mocked her, her tunnel vision forcing her to focus on the tacky design and color palette to prevent herself from falling into the black oblivion. Shepard felt her entire world closing in around her, condensing all her frenzied emotions and thoughts into the aesthetically appalling hallway. Her head was spinning from her interaction with Kaidan, unsure of what to gather from the situation, and still reeling from what shehad said to him.
Did I really just fire Kaidan?
The ex-Spectre initially intended to mosey on up to Kaidan's room and lavish him with her feminine charm and charisma by using her drug-like hold against him, with the eventual goal of sweeping the Major right off of his feet as he swooned under her spell. Shepard knew how Kaidan ticked – she knew all his idiosyncrasies, his pet peeves, his desires, the little things that caused his heart to skip a beat, the way he had looked so adorably bashful when she saw his room in disarray.
She knew she had to get the hell out of there.
The woman was trapped in an unforgiving enclave of pent up feelings; she'd never been an overly emotional person and hadn't the faintest idea on how to process such a myriad of swarming emotion and sentiment. It thrummed at the fringes of her psyche, a caged animal that grew increasingly restless as it was denied its want of freedom and expression, furiously bludgeoning the walls of its prison, aching to free itself as it begged for release.
With dread, she acknowledged the telltale click as her biotic implant engaged itself, humming softly at the nape of her neck. Shepard struggled against the drenching flood of dark energy as it ran through her body, sluicing to each and every limb. It prickled its way across her skin, goosebumps rising in its wake as they hungrily sought after the biotic swirl. After waging a furious battle, her biotics conceded subservience, malleable to her will, and they slithered back into their implant. Shepard felt momentarily grateful for her strenuous training the past few days, forcing herself to learn how to govern the almost sovereign implant.
Her sight blurred as unshed tears gathered in her eyes, unbidden by the surprising influx of emotion and biotics, and Shepard clenched her brows together with concentration, petitioning the tears to dissolve. Forcing her eyes tightly closed, Shepard mercilessly pinched the bridge of her nose as she urged the tingling sensation in her face to dissipate and expel the desire to let the waterworks flow freely.
The meeting with Kaidan hadn't gone as planned. Not even close. Somehow, the plan went from cleverly manipulating her old Lieutenant into falling back in love with her to extemporaneously firing him and shunning him from her life, once and for all.
What the fuck just happened?
She groaned to herself, a strangled cry of mingling frustration and grief, as she wrestled with her mind to overcome the near overwhelming temptation to surrender to her emotion and let herself break down and cry. Mourn for the loss of the man she loved. Mourn the loss of life as she knew it. Mourn the inexplicable amnesia that plagued her and tortured her with memories of a reality that no longer existed. Mourn the person she had become, callously cutting herself off from Kaidan, her friends, her crew, and even from herself. Mourn for the bleak future that lay before her feet, foreshadowing a lifetime of isolation in the quarantine she had constructed for herself.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Shepard felt the torrential swirl of the world calm, and she took advantage of the temporarily quieted tempest as she harshly shoved herself free from the wall, ignoring the unforgiving sting that shot throughout her overstrained leg; the dull ache in her thigh seemed to pale in comparison to the hurt she had caused Kaidan. She resumed her stroppy gait, her chin held high in feigned defiance, as she continued her journey to God knows where. Any place would be better than here.
Her heart was conflicted with the tingle of hope and the paroxysm of dread as she considered lucidity reclaiming Kaidan's dumbstruck mind, forcing him into an urgent pursuit after her as he pleaded with her to stay or shouted at her for her selfishness. Any emotional outburst, positive or otherwise, would be preferable to the frozen look of panic and torment deeply etched on Kaidan's too-handsome features. Her chest tightened as she recalled the Major's stunned facial expression – his once bright, lively, coy, and playful whiskey eyes muted as loss, pain, and suffering swam in their depths.
Shepard hated that look.
Her happy, sarcastic, over-eager Lieutenant was dead – dead because of her. In his place, a heavy-hearted, severely broken, and downright angry man took up residence, bearing the same name as her love, exhibiting the same striking physical features, but stealing away his life, the very essence that made Kaidan, well, Kaidan.
She was blindly turning down corridors, struggling to remember from whence she came and how to get out. She had to employ every precious second granted to her to leave Kaidan's building in case his treacherous heart overrode the logic of his brain and sent him catapulting after her. Shepard couldn't bear to face him and explain motives that were still muddled even to her; she'd acted impulsively in his room, words flying out of her mouth before she'd had the time to silence the audacious sentences. Her gut was twisted into knots at the entire ordeal – the hurt and pain she'd caused Kaidan, her malignant scheme to play the puppeteer with the strings of his heart, forcing him into a life that had long ago been buried.
Her love of Kaidan led her to believe that manipulating him was the only way to bring him back to her and remind him of the uninhibited love that they had once shared. She had realized her flawed reasoning when she unintentionally spied the datapads that cluttered his kitchen counters, stacked precariously on one another in a disheveled heap. While Kaidan had been frantically searching for a shirt to don, Shepard had utilized his distracted state to snoop around his quaint living quarters and quickly perused the datapads that lay in beckoning. Brow poised high on her forehead, she took careful notice of the splotches of fingerprints smeared across the screens, evidencing Kaidan's obsession with whatever intel they held.
Her heart leapt high in her chest and her breath was stolen away from her as her gaze fell upon countless images and reports meticulously outlining her injuries, hypothesizing innumerable scenarios that led to her captivity in Tuchanka, postulating her whereabouts the past half-decade, and various articles about supposed 'Shepard sightings' across the galaxy. His browsing history indicated he had researched retrograde amnesia and its ability to alter personalities or the likelihood of the deceased memories to sporadically reemerge. Kaidan had been neurotically researching everything there was to know about her condition and inexplicable change of character, possessed with the desire to understand her, to have a better grasp on her situation and maybe, just maybe, finally obtaining some answers as to why she turned against him with such a vile hatred. The Major wanted to fathom why she spontaneously became the reanimated dead and regressed into the determined, spirited, and beloved Commander of years past.
Her chest ached with damning realization. It was in that moment that it dawned on Shepard that the puerile arguments the two had been having ever since their reunion weren't stemmed from Kaidan's anger and resentments of her – they were born from the fact that, despite it all, Kaidan still loved her.
The intensity of that comprehension flooded her senses, shifting her train of rational thought, and she unknowingly reformulated a plan that ultimately led her to relieve Kaidan of his duty. He was going to kill himself trying to aid her, train her, understand her; she loved him too much to drive him to the brink of insanity so she could greedily claim him for herself, stealing him away from everything he knew, yanking his world out from beneath his feet just so she could have her old life back. He had once loved her with reckless abandon, but that was in another life, one she murdered with her heartless demeanor and unfounded accusations.
How could she have ever thought that this was a good idea? What could have possibly possessed her to even consider acting so brutally to the poor, desolate man? After everything that she had done to him, after all the shit she put him through, after the way she cast him to the side like a battered dog, he was still relentlessly combating his own conflicted feelings to try and save her. Shepard had conspired to abuse her influence over Kaidan for her own personal gain – that wasn't something she would have ever thought she was capable of doing. She'd never been so callous or cruel, plotting to destroy the man she claimed to love.
Shepard was terrified; she could feel herself slipping away, could feel the malice and manipulation seeping throughout her mind like a disease, corrupting the segments of her brain that made her unique, that made her Shepard, and turn her into a vessel of disaster and harbinger of devastation.
What the hell is happening to me?
Shepard found herself in a tiny living area, a common ground for the inhabitants of the TLF to congregate, or for their visitors to wait impatiently as the Alliance personnel gathered their belongings before rendezvousing in the minute square area. She listlessly sat on one of the uncomfortable looking chairs, the cheap pleather dully reflecting the incandescent lighting of the lamps on either side, evidencing the scuffs, scratches, and tears that littered the inexpensive covering. She slumped low in the seat, her thighs sticking painfully against the unforgiving fabric as she slid into a more relaxed position. Leaning her head back against the top of the chair, she closed her eyes and tried to block out the aching hum of pain as it swallowed her right leg, the healing tissue yelling at her for abusing its fragility. Her hand wandered to the tip of the cast and she tried to slip a finger into the snug prison in an attempt to alleviate the culminating pressure that brooded in its depths. Idly massaging her leg, her mind wandered to the sweet bliss of emptiness, blanking itself to recover from the emotionally jarring moments that had claimed her life over the course of the past week.
She lost herself in that brief moment of silence, swallowing years of unshed guilt and shame, and letting herself, even if just for a moment, be a woman, a regular, ordinary woman, who sat in mute mourning as she cried for the life she had abandoned.
Kaidan's legs moved of their own accord, moving quickly down the hallway in a soft sprint, desperation claiming his chest like a disease. His panic stricken mind saddled him with fear and anger at Shepard's anticlimactic departure; it was textbook behavior for her, to come sauntering back into his life and confuse him with moments of uncharacteristic adoration and love that were quickly succeeded by her typical errant behavior and emotional outbursts. How had he not seen this coming a mile away? It was classic Shepard! She'd been the inane one, saying asinine things about their past and lashing out at him for moving on; and then, once she got Kaidan all riled up and rightfully pissed off, she sporadically became civil and rational, relieving him of his duty, martyring herself so that Kaidan could resume his monotonous lifestyle.
That manipulative bitch.
He fell right into her scheme, like putty in her hands, and he was encumbered with guilt and shame for making her feel worthless as he ignored her, abandoned her for the hundredth time, leaving her to her own devices to try and rescue herself. He couldn't erase the image of her shoulders slumped in defeat, the weight of sorrow and self-loathing bogging her down, as she hesitated by his door, yearning for him to follow her, to proffer comforting words, to repudiate her decision.
That fucking manipulative bitch.
Making him feel guilty for his behaviors, easily justifiable when Shepard was being a raging bitch. But no, oh no, she just had to come promenading right into his room, full of rationale and understanding, and make his life even more tangled and complicated as she apparently grew a conscience and grieved her treatment of him. And now he felt like the asshole, after seeing her face crumple with unrequited emotion, staving off tears as they brimmed around her captivating eyes. Shepard didn't cry, and, dammit, he'd made her cry. Her tears tugged at his heart strings and flooded him with an overwhelming sense of guilt and the urge to protect her and cast her tears away as he cradled her in his arms.
What a goddamned fucking manipulative bitch!
He couldn't explain it, couldn't rationalize it, but the ex-Commander, for all her flaws and imperfections, still held Kaidan's heart. He loved her in spite of himself, but hadn't fully come to terms with the force of the emotion until she fired him, leaving him standing stupefied in his studio as terror clutched his heart at the notion of losing her again, threatening to forever rob him of his undeniable propensity for her – the drug that was Shepard. He wouldn't let her take that away from him again, not when he finally had it back.
He ran down hallways, his heart pounding painfully in his chest, as he scanned for any trace of the woman. Kaidan honestly wasn't sure what he would do when he found her – if he found her – he hadn't planned that far in advance. All he knew was that he had to find some way to change her mind, to allow him to stay and train her, to let him just be around her. He wasn't going to profess his undying love for her, whisk her off her feet, ditch his current life, and leave Erin in the dust of his callousness, but he at least wanted to live in the illusion that maybe, just maybe, someday, things would level out and he could try and salvage the semblance of a relationship, friendship, something, with Shepard.
He found himself in a small sitting area, adorned with decorative plants and cheap, faux leather armchairs. Four halls branched off of the tiny room, and his heart renewed its frantic thump as he lamented the fact he had no inkling if Shepard had even stepped foot in the place.
His whiskey eyes scanned the area and he walked up to each hallway in turn, quickly glancing down the corridor with the small hope that he would see her fragile frame hobbling down its length. His heart sank lower in his chest, the ball in his gut weighed down more heavily, as he approached each hallway only to find it empty. Kaidan ran his hands over his face, trying to quell the desire to yell out his frustration, when he peered between his fingers and carefully studied one of the seats in the waiting area. It was still lightly gleaming with the sheen of perspiration from an overheated figure, a slight depression on its pleather from the weight of a body that had recently sat on its cushion.
Shepard.
She'd been here not a moment before he arrived. He was close, hot on her trail, and hope coursed through his veins as he realized he could easily catch her, if only he chose the right hallway to traverse. Kaidan threw himself blindly down one of the corridors, knowing he had only a one in three chance of choosing the correct one. 33%. Those were his odds. There weren't in his favor, that was for certain, but it was better than nothing; he would take what he could get.
He ran, his steps even more harried than they were before, as he prayed to catch even a glimpse of the woman he desperately sought after.
Shepard lost track of time as it lost its meaning in the throes of her rare moment of quiet, and she pried her exhausted eyes open, breathing steadily as reality began snaking its way back to the forefront of her mind. With a questioning brow, she surveyed her surroundings, realizing in her haste to sit down and just relax for one goddamned moment, she had forgotten which direction she hailed from. The walls of the individual hallways were eerily reminiscent of one another and bore no distinguishing characteristics to differentiate one from the others. She felt a ball form in her stomach and she brandished herself for becoming so easily fooled by the allure of rest that she failed to take notice of which of the four hallways she had intended to walk.
She heard the telltale pattering of footsteps as they echoed throughout the room, resonating between the walls and seemingly cast from every nook and cranny of each hallway. She snapped her head up, her ears prickling as she honed her concentration on pinpointing the epicenter of the noise. The footfalls were almost frantic in nature, landing in quick succession as though the person creating the dissonance was running, likely in pursuit of something lost. There was a similar sound projecting from her left, and she inclined her head toward the other hallway, willing her weary mind to utilize decades of relentless infiltration experience to accurately place the sound.
The sound blanketed her, swooping in on her small form and taunting her with its ambiguity, leering at her as she craned her head in every which way, desperate to find the originating source. The footsteps loomed ever closer to her, mocking her as the threat of the perceived person closed in on her exposed position. Her heart thudded rapidly in her chest, the frantic beat personifying her anxiety, and it obscured the sound of the footsteps, hindering her ability to pinpoint the target.
His footsteps rang louder, signaling his impending arrival, and she knew it was too late to hope to outrun him; with the condition of her leg, she could manage a quick hobble at best, her knee unable to fully bend to accommodate the necessary angle for a run. Even if she did somehow urge her aching appendage to sprint, the shrill clanging of the cast would give away her location and make it all too easy for Kaidan to follow her.
As a last ditch effort to conceal her presence, Shepard limped over to a slightly concaved doorway and pressed herself flush against the wall, praying that the shadows would provide adequate camouflage. She stayed her breath, terrified that the slight sounds of her breathing would ring out in the small hallway and alert Kaidan to her whereabouts. Not a moment later, she heard the pounding footsteps cease their movements as her old Lieutenant entered the small room she had just occupied. Shepard could hear as he circled the room, briefly glancing down each hall in turn, hoping to discover his hopelessly hiding amour.
She combated the urge to peer out over the edge of the wall, not daring to risk exposure or seeing his pained visage, his worry and fret only deepening with each passing second as Shepard slipped further and further away from him. Luck was on her side, and it was only a matter of moments before she heard his footsteps disappear down one of the other halls. She exhaled a sigh of relief and fell back against the wall for a minute longer, willing her heart to slow its rapid tempo.
Finally, she pried herself off of the wall and headed down the foreign hallway. She turned a corner too sharply and slammed her right shoulder abruptly against the bend of the wall, sending a jolt of pain to the socket. She shouted out an obscenity, and the affectionate couple loitering in front of a door was rudely jarred out of intimacy at Shepard's harsh exclamation. They leered at her with anger and frustration, and Shepard returned the icy glower, projecting her self-loathing onto the innocent pair. Several seconds of tense eye contact passed, and she watched their looks of irritation disband as recognition registered within them, momentarily puzzling their features as they marveled over the familiarity of the woman before them.
Shepard cursed herself, infuriated that she owned such an identifiable face, her image plastered all across the galaxy, hailing her as the protector of all organic life and damning her as the reprobate who dissented against her former allegiances. The strangers' jaws gaped with unvoiced queries, and she made a hasty retreat before their cognizance recovered and granted them the ability to question the uncanny resemblance the woman bore to the supposedly missing ex-Alliance operative. She slipped into a conveniently arriving elevator, uncaring of its destination as it carried her down several floors, further confusing the already disoriented and lost woman.
The cacophony of tacky elevator music reverberated in her ear drums, a xylophone inharmoniously cling clanging in the background, drowning out the sound of her own pounding heart. She steadied herself against the cool, metallic railing that lined the perimeter of the small elevator and randomly pushed a button for a floor that she vehemently hoped led her in her desired direction. She wasn't quite sure where she even intended on going – she just knew she had to get the hell out of the Temporary Living Facilities ward.
Shepard sighed heavily; the last thing she needed was a couple of loud mouthed Alliance personnel to start blabbing to their friends and colleagues that they spied the notorious Commander Shepard's doppelganger agitatedly limping throughout the TLFs in Vancouver. Hackett would surely confront the amnesiac woman, cornering her in the confines of her unadorned hospital room, his aging, withered old form towering over her diminutive one, and demand why she wandered out of the restrictions of the medical ward and meandered over to the more publically accessible living quarters, making herself susceptible to being recognized and lose all shred of her incognito status.
Argh – that was just another headache that Shepard did not want to take in hand.
The echoing music plagued her ears, driving her to the cusp of insanity at its wretched tune, until, at long last, the doors of the elevator parted and granted Shepard escape from the terrible composition. She all too happily flung herself through the door and nearly ran headfirst into the looming figure that stood before her.
Great. Another fucking witness.
Without bothering to mask her blatant irritation and petulance, Shepard tilted her head up to stare at the hindrance with daggers in her eyes. Her stomach dropped as soon as she recognized the leering face and her sneering façade crumbled as she felt the blood leave her face.
"Admiral Hackett, sir."
Kaidan flew down hallways and corridors, bogged down by an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu as he felt a wave of familiarity wash over him at the sight of marred doors and walls that he had passed by only minutes earlier. A strangled groan escaped his lips at the realization he'd been wandering in circles, his urgency to find Shepard skewing his usual directional aptitude.
It wasn't long before he found himself standing right back in the waiting area, the chair previously occupied by Shepard's sitting form now cleansed of any indentations her body had created. He seethed between tightly gritted teeth, furiously clenching and unclenching his fists as he felt the tingling at the base of his neck, the biotics spurred to life at his emotional crisis. The Major shut his eyes and steadied his breath, concentrating on slowing the rapid crescendo of his heartbeat and extinguishing the fire that afflicted his nerves. Once he felt satisfied he had control over his implant, the soft hum suddenly silent, he opened one eye to survey his surroundings.
His stomach dropped low to the ground at the disheartening sight, his hope rapidly dissipating as he felt Shepard slipping between his fingers like a sieve. He couldn't help the pained cry that tore from his throat as his balled fist connected with the back of a chair, sending it catapulting to the ground with a hollow thud.
He wanted to snap, to destroy all the mocking items that lay scantily clad in the pathetic room. He wanted to destroy something beautiful.
He reigned in his unnatural irascibility, drawing on a lifetime of arduous training to reel in his emotions. Four half-mooned cuts graced his palms at the ferocity with which he clenched his hands, his nails mercilessly slicing into his flesh as he swallowed the tempest brewing within his core.
Kaidan calmed his frantic mind, knowing that his already slim chances at finding Shepard would completely disintegrate if he allowed himself to succumb to the chaos stirring at the peripheries of his mind, overshadowing his rationality and ability to plan.
He glanced around, observing the hallways to see if he could remember which one he had initially entered from and which one he had hurriedly run through. He was gifted with a fantastic memory and easily recalled which three hallways he'd already searched, and, without further thought, instinctively entered into the fourth and last hallway that remained.
The resounding echo of his steps infiltrated his ears, keeping tempo with the blood pumping in his veins. He nearly trampled over a stupefied couple as they gawked at an elevator, completely oblivious to Kaidan's sudden emergence. He almost cried with relief at seeing the pair, hoping with wild abandon that they had witnessed something that would give clue to Shepard's destination.
"Have either of you seen a woman walk through here?"
Kaidan looked at them expectantly, restlessly shifting his weight from foot to foot as he impatiently awaited a response. Their questioning stares finally drifted to Kaidan, seemingly trying to comprehend what he had asked of them. The unknown man raised a quizzical brow, his jaw slightly gaping, when the woman beside him began sputtering her question.
"Was that… are you trying to find the Commander?"
The Major's heart doubled its efforts and thumped at a dangerous speed at the woman's response. He was initially ecstatic at her question, knowing that he was finally on the right track and in close pursuit of his vanishing love. His elation was quickly shrouded by the gravity of the stranger's assessment, and he realized that these two had been eye-witnesses to Shepard's sudden incarnation, no longer a missing refugee seeking solace on the outskirts of the galaxy.
He had to protect her, had to somehow convince these two that they hadn't, in fact, just seen the long lost Commander.
"Ah, no. I know, I know – she looks a whole lot like the famed Commander Shepard." Kaidan's hand snaked to the base of his neck as he fervently raked his brain for some sort of viable excuse. "Ah… this is really embarrassing… In truth, we, ah, sort of… were… roleplaying…" His voice was a harsh whisper as rouge muddied his cheeks with the heat of embarrassment. Although a fabrication, it was still humiliating to talk about. Kaidan was grateful for his tendency of blushing, aiding in his conquest to deceive the loitering pair. "I-I mean, really, what man wouldn't fantasize about being with the Commander?"
The woman looked at him with skepticism, her lips pursed with disbelief, but the man next to her couldn't prevent the wry smile from his lips, a look of appreciative understanding slithering into his amused eyes.
"Are you quite serious? She looked much too like the Commander and was far too angry to just be… roleplaying," the woman spoke, a hint of an accent that Kaidan couldn't quite place played in her tone.
The Major opened his mouth to respond, a weak lie already perched at the tip of his tongue, but he was promptly cut off by the opposing man.
"Oh, Miriam, leave him alone. We both know that Shepard wouldn't step foot anywhere near an Alliance building without setting it aflame. Besides, if she truly was back, don't you think that one of us would have heard of it by now?" The man's accent was heavily British.
She immediately turned her cynical glare to her partner, bewildered that he bought into Kaidan's invention. "You're telling me that you truly believe they were roleplaying? That's dishonorable and disgusting!"
"Oh, it's not that awful. I mean, the man has a very valid point – it's no small secret that the Commander was the objection of many a men's fantasies. She's absolutely beautiful, a very efficient leader, was the forefront of the galactic attack against the Reapers, and was downright terrifying and intimidating. There's something oddly sexy about a woman that's manlier than you are."
Miriam looked at him incredulously before harshly smacking his cheek with her open palm, her anger at his quick agreement overshadowed her suspicions of Kaidan.
"You pig! Both of you, absolute pigs! Your filthy minds and perverted fantasies. Commander Shepard deserves better than that, renegade or not. She once was an admirable, respectable woman." She turned her deadly glower to Kaidan – if looks could kill, he'd have been stricken dead on the spot. Loathing and disgust dripped from her venomous tone, "I suppose her broken leg and battered form were just to add to the illusion? A strong woman in captivity, forced to indulge your sick urges and impulses, while you validate your masculinity! No wonder she was running from you, you despicable cretin!"
Content with saying her peace, Miriam furiously opened the door to her living quarters and marched inside, quickly disappearing from view. The man was momentarily stunned by her harsh retaliation and brought a hand up to rub his tender check before turning his gaze to Kaidan.
"You'll have to excuse Miriam. She's still young and idealistic, a feminist of sorts, and quite easy to piss off. Something I'm sure you're rather familiar with, Major."
Kaidan's brow shot up high on his forehead, startled by the unexpected declaration of his rank. He gazed down at his attire and verified that he wasn't wearing anything that would indicate his ranking – the man had simply recognized him, despite his civilian clothing.
The man across from him laughed his amusement at Kaidan's confusion, and ran a tanned hand across his mouth as he humorously shook his head. His eyes, twinkling with mischief, flitted to meet Kaidan's stare as a wide smile broke across his face.
"Pardon me for saying this, sir, but if you think that your face isn't as easily recognizable as the Commander's, you're sorely mistaken: the second human Spectre, biotic extraordinaire, alleged lover of the alluring Shepard, and voice for the people of Vancouver. If not for you, many civilians would still be revolting and lashing out against the Alliance. Not to mention you and your efficiency with your L2 were a major case study during my stay at Grissom Academy; all of us biotics know your face. Lucky for you, Miriam is still a relatively new recruit and is piss poor at putting faces with names. She is very familiar with your name and accomplishments, but hasn't the foggiest idea that she just met you. As a fellow Sentinel, she should be utterly ashamed. Anyway, your Commander popped into the elevator not five minutes ago. Unfortunately, I'm uncertain which floor she stopped at."
Kaidan felt the fine hairs on the nape of his neck bristle as a pejorative shudder ravaged his body. Not only had this man astutely recognized Kaidan, but also Shepard. The implications of his certainty of Shepard's persona filled the Major with dread and trepidation.
"She's not the Commander," Kaidan's voice lacked the conviction he'd hoped to project.
The man waved a hand in front of his face, brushing aside Kaidan's words with a flick of his wrist as a smirk contorted his features.
"Fear not, Major, her secret is safe with me. I am rather indebted to the Commander myself; she helped me and my squad out while we were in a bind during the Reaper War. We were just a bunch of biotic students who were being shepherded by Cerberus when the Commander came swooping in out of nowhere and saved the day. We're all alive, and not one of those mindless husks, thanks to her; I owe Shepard and my instructor my life."
Kaidan gawked at the man, taken aback by the man's acquaintance with Shepard. If he was friendly with the Commander, it would complicate Kaidan's prerogative to dissuade the stranger of Shepard's true identity.
"You knew Shepard?"
The man gave a one-shouldered shrug, his mien suddenly bashful. "Well, I wouldn't say that I knew the Commander personally. She was well-acquainted with Jack, my instructor. Shepard came barging in the facility, guns blazing, with an asari and a rather large fellow. Cerberus had infiltrated our building and was attempting to… recruit us to their cause. Needless to say, Shepard and her crew made short work of the Cerberus troops and whisked us off to safety. I must admit, she's incredibly graceful on the battlefield, if not downright brutal. We were all sure we were goners; we were sorely outnumbered a dozen to one, but she didn't waver or falter, not once. It was amazing to witness. I can see how you fell for her."
He gave Kaidan a knowing smile, and the Major loathed to see that it bordered on pity.
"Yes, well, ah, I'm glad you, ah, had the opportunity to meet the Commander. But, ah, as I'm sure you're aware, Shepard has been missing for three years. That wasn't her, just someone who, ah, closely resembles her. I guess that's why I find her so… appealing."
He scoffed at Kaidan, refusing to fall for the untruth. "Pish posh, you insult me, sir. I know what I saw, and I know that was the Commander," he was adamant, his tone brokering no argument. "Like I said, you needn't worry – I will keep her presence secret. As a biotic, I know how important discretion is, especially in regards to keeping a low profile."
"I, ah…" Kaidan stammered, anxiety shooting throughout his system at the man's stubbornness to accept the Major's loose interpretation. He ran a hand through his graying hair and his eyes shifted nervously around the hallway. The man sensed Kaidan's extreme apprehension and placed a calming hand on his shoulder, looking his square in the eye as he spoke his next words.
"Look, Major, I did just piss off my fiancée in order to protect Shepard's cover. Besides," he removed his hand from Kaidan's shoulder and shrugged, "the Commander looked royally pissed off; I'd rather not involve myself with whatever qualm you two appear to be enduring. Please trust me when I say I will not tell anyone about her. I'm sure the Alliance has valid reason for keeping her existence secret, and I wouldn't want to piss off my superiors by blabbing to my peers. The reports indicate that Shepard went rogue and went on a personal conquest to obliterate the Council and the Alliance; the last thing I would want to do is enrage such a volatile woman. She stood toe-to-toe with a Reaper and single-handedly destroyed it on Rannoch, so I am certain she would make short work of little ol' me." His voice was lit with light-hearted humor.
"I, um, thank you. I appreciate it."
The man fanned his hand in front of his face, his features aloof. "Don't mention it, sir, I'd gladly do anything to assist the Commander. I do have a question, Major, if you would allow me to ask it."
Kaidan arched a brow at the man and inhaled deeply through his nose. He contained his breath as he studied the man's face, deliberating on his request. He released his sigh as he massaged his neck and peered at the man from the corner of his eyes. "If you'll keep her secret, then yeah, I guess that's the least I can do in return."
Now it was the stranger's turn to shift uncomfortably on his feet and he downcast his gaze, averting Kaidan's questioning stare. Hesitation nipped at the heels of his words, "As I said, the reports indicated that she was rather… violent. Malicious, even. Pitilessly destroying any Alliance troop she stumbled upon and decimated anyone that followed her. However, when she came stumbling through here, she appeared to be anything but dangerous. Angry, perhaps, but not intent on destroying the place; she looked… well… hurt, sad, and very much broken. Was it all a ruse to turn the galaxy against her? Or are the allegations true?"
Kaidan considered his words carefully for a moment before answering, uncertain if he should elaborate on Shepard's rather unique circumstances.
"Ah, yes, they're… true. She did turn her back against the Alliance."
"If I may, sir, what happened to her? What changed her back?"
Kaidan felt his heart leap in his throat, restricting his airway and fleetingly preventing him from responding. His lips were set in a thin line, and he nervously chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to procure an answer that would make any smattering of sense. After a long moment of tense silence, he returned his stare to the man, unable to prevent the defeat he felt from perverting his features and contorting his words.
"Honestly, I, ah, I don't know. I really don't know… but I intend to find out."
A/N: This chapter was getting rather long-winded, so I decided to break it down into two. I figured having an update now with half a chapter, albeit less than exciting, was better than making you all wait another week for an incredibly long chapter with more dialogue and Shenko-ness.
I haven't had the internet for the past 3 weeks, but I promise I will try and be better about updating! I just get really nervous for some reason...
Anyway, you know the drill: reviews are always appreciated (seriously, it helps a writer to get another gust of much-needed motivation) and I hope you guys are enjoying this story :)
-razz