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"The two of you stay back, let me talk to her alone."

"Yes, ma'am." Kaidan watched as Shepard moved toward the pile of crates. Behind it crouched a woman with a gun, a woman who had been kidnapped by batarian slavers in the same attack on Mindoir that had killed Shepard's parents.

Everyone knew the story; at least, the bare bones of it. The slaver attack, the colonists killed or dragged off, a young Shepard among the very few survivors. Until today, however, Kaidan had never considered Shepard as a child, cowering in hiding, listening to the screams of the people she'd called friends and family.

He did now, though. It had been in the careful blankness of her expression when the young lieutenant had mentioned Mindoir over the comm link; in the sudden dilation of her hazel eyes; in the whitening of her already pale skin that she couldn't quite hide. There had never been any question of whether she would drop everything to come back up to the docking bay and help—she had done so immediately.

She was inching toward the pile of packing crates now, closing the space between herself and her fellow survivor very slowly. There was no indication that the survivor was a danger to anyone but herself, but … well, how could Shepard approach this situation without at least partially seeing herself in the other woman?

Next to Kaidan, Garrus was equally silent, unusual for the voluble turian. They both watched Shepard take a step, then stop to talk to the girl, then take another step. At last they saw the other woman take the sedative Shepard held out to her and swallow it, and after a few moments slump forward into Shepard's waiting arms.

"I don't think they need us here," Garrus said quietly.

"Agreed." The two of them got in the elevator and made themselves scarce, knowing Shepard could call them on the comm link in their suits if she needed them. Garrus went to go check in with some old friends from C-Sec. He invited Kaidan along, but Kaidan wasn't interested in feeling like an outsider. He did that too often as it was.

He took a walk, instead, enjoying the beauty and peace of the Citadel, trying to squash the worry he felt for Shepard, faced so unexpectedly with her past, and trying equally hard to squash the decidedly not subordinate-for-commander feelings he was having for her. That she had made it evident she had similar feelings in return was no help. The regs were clear, regardless, and of course, everyone knew what usually happened when people threw the regs to the wind. Arguments, tears, outright brawls … a bad break-up could make a whole ship miserable. But somehow when he was with Shepard, when they were talking together, the regs seemed to make a lot less sense.

He paused for a moment on his way around the lake, seeing a woman wearing a familiar uniform leaning on the railing and staring down at the water. Should he leave her alone? Should he speak to her? Kaidan was caught in an agony of indecision until Shepard lifted her head and saw him standing there.

"I … wasn't sure if you wanted company."

"I wasn't either, but since you're here … Come grab some railing."

"All right." He leaned on the rail several careful inches away. "How is she?"

"Broken," Shepard said bluntly, looking as though she had swallowed something particularly unpleasant. "They trained her to think she was an animal; she could barely remember her own name. Thirteen years like that, while I flew around in the stars and thought I had it bad. Can you imagine?"

"You did have it bad. You can't condemn yourself because you didn't have it even worse."

"I didn't try to hide anyone else, you know. Just cowered there in the shed."

"Could you have?" he asked with frank curiosity.

Shepard frowned, her eyes far away as she thought about it. "I don't think so. I was alone when they came, and I hid immediately."

"Then you couldn't have helped her." Before she could speak, he added, "And imagining what the Shepard you are today could have done then won't help, either. You weren't this person then."

"No," she agreed. "No, I sure wasn't." A spasm of pain crossed her face. "But she was so much younger, only six."

"Did you know her?"

"Not that I remember. It wasn't that big a colony, but big enough, and I wouldn't have been spending my time with six-year-olds. I spent it watching the sky, dreaming of flying among the stars. If I'd only known what it would take to get me there," Shepard said bitterly. "She asked me, you know. Why I wasn't like her. And I didn't have the heart to tell her it was because I was a coward."

"Hey!" Kaidan said, louder than he'd intended, turning to face her. "You hid to live. You knew what they'd do to you. That was a brave act."

Shepard stared at him, her eyes very blue. "I … You're right. At least, that's what I've told myself all these years, to live with it. I had the Alliance, the work, and I told myself at least that made it worth while, that I lived, that I escaped."

"And you were right."

"You think that's what you would have done?"

"I … probably not. I probably would have done something stupid and gotten someone else hurt," Kaidan said, his own bitterness rising up in him along with an image of Rahna.

Shepard's eyes searched his face. "Tell me about it, what you're thinking of."

"It's a long time ago."

"So was Mindoir. Do these things ever really leave us?"

"Maybe you're right." He sighed, looking out over the lake. "Where do I even start? It was back in Brain Camp. Remember, this was long before they understood how to train biotics, so of course, they had to look to our allies for teachers."

"Asari?"

He shook his head. "Bringing in asari would have made Earth look weak—asking for help wasn't something they were ready to do, not openly. No, they went for turians. Mercenaries. But they couldn't admit that, afraid of what the people back home would think."

"I take it that didn't go well."

"No. The guy they brought in to teach us was ex-military. Commander Vyrnnus. He used to say charming things like 'I was at the helm of the dreadnought that killed your father.'"

"Quite the classroom manner."

Kaidan shook his head, trying not to see the greyish face and the cold eyes in his memory. "He … didn't like me much."

"Because you wouldn't back down."

"Exactly. And at the time, I had a smart mouth. This was long before the military had trained me to keep a lid on it."

Shepard smiled.

Kaidan ducked his head, flushing. "Still something I have to work on."

"No issues, Lieutenant. Not with me."

"Good."

"So what happened with Vyrnnus?" She studied him with that forthright, direct look she had, the one that said she could really see into him. "I don't see you snapping that easily. What finally did it?"

"I was a lot younger then, a lot less controlled. I was working on it, even then, and I might have made it through without an incident, but he …" He could still see it all so clearly. "He hurt Rahna. Broke her arm."

"I see."

"He overreacted when she reached for a glass of water instead of pulling it biotically. Just wanted a drink without getting a nosebleed, you know? And then, I stood up, got between them. I didn't know what I was going to do, but he wasn't going to hurt her again." Kaidan could feel his fists clenching, and he forced himself to uncurl them, to take a breath and get himself under control again. "I pushed, and Vyrnnus lost it. He started beating the crap out of me. He went so far as to pull a knife on me, a military-issue talon. Right in my face. And I—cut loose. Full biotic kick, right in the teeth. Almost as strong as I can manage now."

"You were how old?"

"Seventeen. Hopped up on hormones and biotic power and dealing with migraines so painful I could barely move during them."

"No wonder you weren't as controlled as you might have wanted to be."

He snorted. "Tell me about it."

"You tried to help someone you cared for. That was a noble thing."

"Maybe. Maybe my intentions were good. But I lost control." He met her eyes squarely. "I killed him, Shepard."

She nodded. "I figured as much."

"Caused a real stir when they shipped him home. Brain Camp was shut down."

"And Rahna?"

Kaidan swallowed. He could still remember the look on Rahna's face, the fear in her wide dark eyes. "Never spoke to me again. She … had such a gentle heart. She loved everyone. She couldn't handle watching me kill a man."

"Kaidan." Shepard put a hand on his shoulder. "We do what we do to make the galaxy safe for people with gentle hearts."

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe. We all protected her, you know? Everyone who … everyone who loved her."

"That explains a lot."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you agonize over doing the right thing. You never let yourself lose control. Because of Rahna."

He didn't want to admit it, but … that had changed him. The fear in those beautiful eyes had changed him. "Maybe," he said unwillingly. "But you don't have to worry about me. I'm 32, Shepard. You don't serve as long as I have without coming to terms with yourself." He hesitated, then added, "You also learn if someone is special to you, you help them."

Something brightened in her face, a warmth lit her eyes. "Special?"

Kaidan could barely breathe. They were standing so close together, her hand still on his shoulder, but she was still his superior officer. "If I'm out of line, just say the word."

Shepard shook her head. "You're not."

It struck him that maybe she thought he did this kind of thing all the time. "I'm aware of the regs; just so you know, I don't make a habit of complicating the chain of command."

"I know that," she said, and he could have kicked himself. Of course she'd read his file. She would have known. "Neither do I."

"I … don't want to distract you too much. Maybe I don't want to distract me too much. The deeper we get into this mess, with Saren and everything, the bigger it seems. But … I'm glad you'll be here when it's over, Shepard." He couldn't help a smile, or the leap his heart gave at her answering smile. "I'm, uh … I'm looking forward to some shore leave."

"So am I."