The funeral is held early in the morning.

Kaidan gathers at the ceremony on the Presidium with his dress blues pressed to perfection, his medals pinned neatly to his chest and his Alliance dress cap on his head. Shepard is there, too, and for a second he has to stand and collect his composure at the sight of her. She stands off to the side with Anderson, speaking to him softly. Anderson's hand is on her back, gently offering his support. She has the female officer's wear on for once, out of respect for the occasion he thinks, or maybe even because the tight fitting slacks won't fit her anymore and the skirt is roomier. Regardless, she looks gorgeous, makeup lending her face color and life it wouldn't have otherwise. She's even straightened her hair and pinned it up into a neat bun, cleverly concealing the parts that were singed off by the crack in her helmet.

Her uniform is straight on her shoulders, and for once, pressed to perfection. She wears neat little heels, black and polished, even stockings are on her legs, the kind that have the stripe up the back that Kaidan has no words for.

She turns, as if feeling his presence, and he gets a good look at her front. Her dress blue jacket has even more medals than his and he realizes he's never heard her speak about them before, never heard her talk much about her past. He knows she survived Akuze, but beyond that he knows nothing about her exploits, knows nothing about all the years she's spent alone with nothing but her work and maybe Anderson as her only friend. He wonders what she's done with her short life, wonders why she never told him and only asked for more stories about him. He wonders if maybe he was selfish with his love, if he constructed some image for her, or let her construct one of her own.

His heart tells him no. His heart tells him he knows who she is, deep down, and that his heart knows hers as an old friend and fond lover.

For the first time since he met her, he's struck by how professional she looks, and how cold.

It's the complete opposite of the Shepard he fell in love with. That Shepard didn't brush her hair if she could help it, who wore it wild, who rarely wore makeup beyond a swipe of lip-gloss and a small lashing of mascara on special occasions.

He doesn't deny to himself that this Shepard is gorgeous, but it seems manufactured as a mask she wears, so no one ever looks further to the woman she is underneath.

His feet carry him over to them, unable to tear his gaze away. Anderson's face is stormy and Kaidan realizes he knows what Shepard hides beneath her jacket; that she told him.

"Alenko," Anderson greets coolly. "Nice to see you again. I only wish it were under better circumstances."

"As do I, sir," Kaidan responds, shaking his hand. Anderson's grip is tight to the point of pain. The older man doesn't look away from his eyes, twin brown irises burning with thoughts unsaid. Kaidan thinks that maybe he's itching to punch Kaidan in the jaw.

Shepard turns to him, watching him as if he's a distant acquaintance or maybe someone she once met on the street.

"Lieutenant Alenko, glad you could make it," she says, shaking his hand. Her grip is cool and fine-boned and he doesn't want to let go.

"You, too, ma'am."

"We better head over," Anderson says. "The ceremony is starting soon."

Joker's funeral is on the grass of a Presidium memorial area for fallen Alliance soldiers. The fake sky is brilliant today, baby blues and soft fluffy clouds. Kaidan almost wishes he had sunglasses.

The rest of the survivors from the Normandy are gathered there in neat rows, and there's also a man with bright green eyes and a girl of about twelve. She's sobbing into a handkerchief and when Shepard sees her she blanches, stopping in her tracks for a second.

"Come on, Shepard. You're a survivor," Anderson cajoles. "You can do this. Hilary doesn't blame you. The only person who truly blames you is yourself."

Shepard straightens her spine and puts steel into it. She walks ahead of the two men and takes her seat in one of the front rows of chairs, spread before a portrait of Joker grinning and tipping his cap, seated in the pilot's seat of the Normandy.

Kaidan watches her and something hot burbles up his throat that he has to force down. He looks at Anderson questioningly.

"Hilary Moreau. Joker's baby sister. The man is his father, his mother died a few years ago," he answers and walks forward to take his seat beside Shepard.

In all the time Kaidan knew Joker he never mentioned his sister and he realizes that Joker was intensely private, that maybe there was far more to him than anyone knew.

The ceremony drags on through the morning, but it's a respectful one, the exact opposite of what Joker would have wanted, Kaidan finds himself thinking.

He would have made some crack about stripping him naked and just chucking him out the airlock, but Kaidan supposes Joker never counted on his death coming for him like that anyway.

You never do see it coming.

As the Alliance officiator hands a folded Alliance flag to Hilary, Shepard makes a strangled movement as if to stand, but smothers it. She rocks on her chair a little, but thankfully no one besides Kaidan notices.

He wonders what he would be feeling if it were her funeral he was sat at. If he were burying his lover and his child and then- he decides to shut that thought off from his mind forever and bury it deep, deep down in the earth, to only be examined in his darkest of dreams.

The grief over Joker has already claimed him, furrowed its way into his heart. He doesn't need to claim anymore.

Finally, it's over and Joker is laid to rest. Chakwas is resplendent in her own dress blues, but he's never seen her looking older or more haggard. He always though she was rather pretty, in the way his mother still is, but today she looks every single one of her years and then maybe some more.

The crew begins clearing away, and Joker's family stands too, probably to head back home to Tiptree. Kaidan gets up to speak to Garrus who had come to sit with Adams, Tali, Liara and Chakwas when it all happens in a rush.

Shepard stands urgently, as if to make her way towards Hilary and Joker's father, but her legs collapse from underneath her and she falls heavily onto her side, too out of it even to break her fall.

"Shepard!"

He's not aware he's moving as he elbows aside the people in between him and her crumpled form. Anderson is by her side, waving his cap over her sweaty face to give her some air. Her eyes loll in the back of her head and Hilary bursts into tears again.

Kaidan throws himself on his knees at her side.

"Kaidan," Anderson says, real fear in his voice. "What's wrong with her? I can't wake her up."

He waves his omni-tool, medic training kicking in and the only thing keeping his hands steady.

"Low blood-pressure," he answers. "Combined with stress. It's warm here and she got up too quickly. I only hope she didn't hit her head. Does anyone have some water?" he calls to the gathered crowd. He turns back to meet Anderson's worried brown eyes. "We should get her somewhere she can rest. Your office is nearby."

Garrus comes forward and hands him a bottle of water which he takes with a grateful nod. "Thanks, Garrus."

Garrus' mandibles flap worriedly. "Is she gonna be OK? What's wrong with her?"

"She's gonna be fine," Kaidan answers, motioning Anderson to help Shepard sit up.

Chakwas hurries over, having calmed Hilary and Joker's dad and dispersed the gawking crowd. "In case you men have forgotten, I am the doctor here," she scolds, leaning over Shepard and performing the same scans that Kaidan had, confirming his diagnosis.

"She hasn't been looking after herself," she sighs. "She's dehydrated and far too skinny for this stage than I would like. No doubt this was just straw that broke the camel's back. She needs rest, food, out of this sun and someone to take care of her for once."

Chakwas pats her cheek gently, grabbing a handkerchief from her pocket and wetting it from the water bottle. She presses the fabric at Shepard's cracked lips and at her forehead.

Shepard licks her lips and her eyelids flutter. "Kaidan… what are you doing here?" she slurs, eyes slits against the harsh artificial sun. "The clouds are laughing at us."

"Shh, I know. Here, drink this," he says, guiding more water to her lips from the bottle. "You'll feel better."

She shakes her head, firmly pressing her lips together. "Milo says that I shouldn't. He says that Hilary is sad and I should lay down with him so he's not lonely anymore. I don't want him to be lonely. I miss him."

Anderson looks alarmed. "She's delirious. Her brother died ten years ago. We'll take her to my office. I'll call the medics."

Kaidan's heart hammers as he gathers her in his arms. Chakwas walks beside him, holding Shepard arm and snaking her hand under the dress blue sleeve, talking her pulse against the clock on her omni-tool.

At Kaidan's look as they cross the greens to the cluster of building she says, "Pulse is good and strong. Skin's clammy, though."

He has never felt more useless or powerless, not even in Brain Camp in the moments Vyrnnus broke Rahna's arm or when he withstood the beatings. He's failing at the one thing he should never fail at.

In Anderson's office, he drapes Shepard on the cool leather couch and helps Chakwas shrug Shepard's dress blue jacket off to reveal a sweat-soaked white blouse underneath.

Chakwas clicks her tongue. "Anderson, do you have a light blanket around here? She really should have that blouse taken off so she's cooler and doesn't have a temperature drop later from being so sweaty."

"Yes, doctor," Anderson answers, rummaging around and producing a thin yellow blanket from a cupboard. "I sleep here overnight sometimes. This one is clean."

"Good." Chakwas takes it and turns to Kaidan. "Help me undress her."

Anderson turns his back as Kaidan eases the soaked shirt from her boneless limbs.

"Doc, is she gonna be OK?"

"She needs rest and TLC, Kaidan. But she should be fine. I suspect she'll be more embarrassed than anything."

Once Shepard is divested of her shirt, Chakwas loosens the claps on her skirt so it doesn't cut into her skin. There's angry red marks left on her belly and Kaidan has to look away.

Chakwas watches Shepard sadly as she uses the shirt to wipe the excess sweat from her body and then pulls the blanket up to her chin. In Anderson's office, it's chilly, the air conditioning turned off and the ceilings high. Out of the Presidium's sun, Shepard's feverish cheeks begin to pale again.

"You silly thing," Chakwas whispers more to herself than Shepard as she tilts Shepard's head up and encourages her to drink more water. "A new skirt wouldn't have cost you much."

Kaidan takes Shepard's hand as she begins to come around again, blinking slowly with an expression of confusion on her face to find herself lying prone. Anderson pads back over.

"I called the medics," he rumbles. "They should be here soon."

"No, no, no. I'm fine," Shepard mutters, her eyes having trouble focusing on Anderson. "I just got a little sick and I have a headache. It's nothing. Don't make a fuss, Anderson."

An expression the closest that Kaidan has ever seen to panic comes over Anderson's face, and he actually shoos Kaidan from her side with a glare.

"Child," he starts gently, taking her hand in his large brown one. "You just passed out. You spoke of Milo."

Her cheeks go red. "Of course I didn't."

"Don't bullshit me, Shepard," he says sternly. "I've let you go on long enough with this grief. It's time to stop. Whether you like it or not, some small part of you wants this baby. You have a man standing there who loves you very much, as do I."

Kaidan blinks in shock. He's never seen anyone stand up to Shepard like that, let alone expected the word 'love' to come out of David Anderson's mouth with another soul in the room.

"Now," Anderson continues. "You know damn well that you could have gotten rid of that baby any time since the Normandy sinking, but you haven't. I know some part of you wants this. I saw the booties in the bag back at the apartment."

Kaidan eyes search out hers but they skitter away.

"You're a goddamn twenty-six year old with N7 training and a sharp head on your shoulders. It's time to take care of yourself. It's time to take care of that child. The medics are coming and you're going to listen to them. Then you're coming over tonight so I can make my famed risotto and you're going to sit there and eat it and love every bite. Do I make myself clear, Shepard?"

She sighs and Kaidan can tell it's half-hearted. "You're not my real dad, you know."

A smile tugs the ends of Anderson's mouth. "Thank god."

"How was Hilary?" Shepard asks quietly as Anderson moves aside for Kaidan to take her hand again. She accepts it, even squeezes back.

"She was upset," Kaidan answers honestly. "But she'll be OK."

"I didn't mean to do that. I just stood and the world went black."

"I know you didn't," he answers, pressing a kiss the back of her sweaty hand as the medics pour in the door.

After they check on Shepard and decide she just needs rests and fluids, Shepard begs them not to take her to hospital, promising that she'll take it easy and drink a lot of water. Anderson frowns but eventually adds his assent, agreeing that she can take care of herself.

He turns to Kaidan. "Son, I want you to go and handle the rest of the crew. See how they're dealing with all this and let them know that Shepard's going to be fine. Tell them it was just too much sun. I doubt anyone will buy it, but tell them anyway."

"Sir, I'd prefer that I didn't leave-"

Anderson pulls him aside and presses a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it in old-fashioned pen.

"This is my address. Shepard will be staying with me for the time being. Come over around dinner time. I'll leave you to talk. It might be easier for her if she feels she has me as a buffer."

Kaidan glances at the paper, examining the address for a place on the Silversun strip.

"Yes, sir."

"When do you have to report back to Arcturus?"

"I have a week's compassionate leave, sir."

"Then I suggest you and Shepard work out what you truly want."

Kaidan dresses nervously that night, not sure what he should wear. He always knew that Shepard and Anderson were close, but he somehow never imagined going for dinner to his actual apartment. It was strangely… domestic in a way he and Shepard never were.

He settles on a blue sweater and simple jeans with a leather jacket, feeling far too much like a nervous boyfriend about to pick his girlfriend up from her dad's. He knows intellectually that it's nothing like that, but he can't help but take too long on his hair and shaving too closely in his worry.

Anderson answers the door and Kaidan is blindsided. He's never seen the man out of uniform and the sight is shocking.

Thankfully, he's able to keep the surprise from his face and Anderson ushers him in.

"I've just finished with the rice. Shepard's in the kitchen, sitting down. She's feeling a lot better."

"Good," Kaidan answers absently, gazing with wonder around the opulent apartment and the beautiful lights from the strip dancing out the large bay windows. "You have a nice place, sir."

"Thank you, Alenko. My… partner and I usually live here, but Kahlee is away on business at the moment."

Kaidan files that little snippet of information away in the drawer that says: 'Captain Anderson is a real human being.'

Anderson clearly registers the little tell of surprise on his face and laughs, slapping him on the back.

"Yes, Alenko. I do have a life outside of work. Sometimes."

Kaidan walks further into the house, coming to the main kitchen nook. Shepard sits there in a comfortable cable knit sweater and leggings, her feet encased in fluffy socks. She looks up when he walks in and smiles slightly.

"Here he is," she says softly. "Poor Mr. Alenko, come to deal with the crazy woman."

He walks over to her and she stands, holding the table with caution. He bends down and presses a kiss to her cheek. Almost in spite of herself, she reaches out and holds onto his jacket as she accepts the kiss and the brush of his nose against the shell of her ear.

"You're not crazy," he whispers.

"I feel like it. I don't know who I am anymore. My ship was lost. My friend was lost. My reputation was lost. I lost me."

"Some lost things can be found again."

She nods ever so slightly and her lips brush his. Kaidan applies the slightest bit of pressure and she responds, wrapping her arms around him. He follows suit, holding her and kissing her sweetly in the middle of Anderson's kitchen.

"Alright, you two, knock it off," Anderson grumbles as he enters the room. "Just because this technically isn't against regs anymore doesn't mean I want to see it."

Shepard's cheeks pink and she pulls away, sliding back into her seat and bending over the green leafy vegetables she was set at task chopping.

"Here, Alenko," Anderson barks. "Make yourself useful and chop some carrots."

Baffled, Kaidan accepted the chopping board of vegetables. He sits beside Shepard.

"Anderson is a hardass in the kitchen, too," she mutters to him with a small smile. "Welcome to Hell's Kitchen. It's all balanced meals that and good fats this yada yada."

She makes a talking motion with her hand and he has to stifle the bark of laughter.

Anderson laughs. "You ungrateful little street urchin. I feed you up and this is the thanks I get."

"David," she argues, pointing the salt shaker at him. "I have heard this bullshit for ten years now. Look at me. I'm healthy as an ox on a diet of takeout and asari sushi."

Kaidan looks around for the 'David' she's speaking about before his brain catches up with him and he realizes that's actually Anderson's first name. He never considered that Shepard was so close to him as to refer to him on a first name basis in private, but as he thought earlier in the day, there's obviously a lot he doesn't know about her.

Anderson raises his eyebrows and Kaidan plants a hand in his palm, looking at her askance.

"OK, shut up, both of you!" she snaps. "Obviously I haven't been at my finest lately, but hey, I kicked Saren's ass living off a diet of ice cream, cereal and chocolate brownies. Who can argue with that record?"

"I can," Kaidan snarks and for the first time in months he sees a true smile bloom across her face.

"Yes, well, no one asked you."

Anderson booms a laugh and starts grilling some meat at the stove. "Get chopping, soldiers."

"Aye, aye, sir," falls from both Shepard's and his lips by reflex and it makes Shepard giggle.

He never thought he'd hear that sound again and it makes him unreasonably grateful to Anderson for talking some sense into her or maybe just having the courage to plunge through her cloud of depression and wrestle her out, for one night only at least.

Anderson cracks open a bottle of wine and sets it in front of them for he and Kaidan to share. He sets a glass of juice in front of Shepard to which she wrinkles her nose.

She reaches for a glass of wine and gulps it down, as if she's been waiting all night for it.

Kaidan looks at her horrified.

"I can have one glass," she says defensively. "It doesn't hurt. I've been dying for it. I haven't drunk in months."

"Shepard, zero alcohol consumption is recommended."

Her face heats and she glares at him. "Don't patronize me."

He knew she struggled with drinking in the past, but always said that since joining the Normandy a lot of the urge to drown her sorrows disappeared.

It seems with the loss of her ship, she also felt a loss of control.

"I'm not," he says, feeling the beginnings of real anger at her. Anderson looks between them, as if agreeing with Kaidan's point but not waiting to involve himself in the spat. "The fact is that baby is half mine, too, and I care."

"It all comes back to this damn baby," she says, exhaling explosively. "So what? You think because you didn't pull out in time you have some claim over my body? Is that it?"

"I'll be in the living room," Anderson says. "When you're done, we'll eat."

Kaidan barely notices him leave the room.

"We've tip-toed around this issue, Shepard, and I'm sick of it. How far gone are you? You're obviously keeping it."

She huffs, avoiding his eyes. "I haven't decided yet."

"Those booties say otherwise. You're showing for Christ's sake. Have you been seeing a doctor?"

"I'm only a bit fat because I'm bloated and I'm usually skinny," she argues and even to her own ears it must seem a lame excuse. "I'm seventeen weeks I think, and yes I've been talking to Chakwas."

He gapes at her. "Seventeen weeks? My god, Shepard. How didn't you know sooner? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, if you remember there was a little thing like the frat regs being thrown in our faces!" She pegs the dish towel that was beside the cutting board at his head and he catches it, glaring at her.

"When did you know?"

"When Chakwas told me after mandatory bloods. I told you," she snaps. "I rang you, remember?"

"I know," he says slowly. "But you would have felt something before then, Shepard."

"Some women d-don't," she stammers. "Sometimes they go the whole time without knowing."

"Did you suspect?"

"Why are you giving me the third degree over this? No. I didn't."

She glares at him mutinously.

"I'm just realizing that maybe we never knew each other as well as we thought we did."

"Maybe the ones we really don't know are ourselves," she answers, her eyes sad.

"Have you spoken to an obstetrician, had scans?" he sighs. "Anything?"

"No." She looks away. "I've been too scared. Too busy. I wanted Chakwas, but she's not a women's health doctor. I haven't had a chance. I'm still… my head's fuzzy most of the time. Like I got Reapers buzzing around in there, muddling me up."

There's an awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Kaidan. I'm making a mess of things. I don't know what I want anymore."

"Don't apologize," he says, standing to wrap his arm around her spindly shoulders. "You're doing the best you can. I'm sorry. I haven't been there."

"You have. I've just been pushing you away."

"No more drinking, OK?"

"Alright. It was just with the funeral and everything…" She tears up and whispers as if afraid to say the words aloud. "I do care about it, you know. I'm not… I'm not heartless, I swear. I just forget sometimes."

He kisses the side of her forehead and she shuts her eyes. "I do know one thing about you. You have a big heart. You're the last person in the world who would be heartless."

Anderson walks back into the room then and they separate, Shepard wiping her eyes. Anderson discreetly takes away the bottle and pours himself a juice.

Dinner is quiet but homely and later Shepard retires to the spare room down the hall, the way she cocks her head encouraging Kaidan to follow.

He glances at Anderson who examines his omni-tool with sudden interest. "Oh, would you look at the time. I have to take this call from Kahlee. Goodnight, Shepard, Alenko."

"Night," Shepard choruses back and tugs Kaidan's hand to follow her.

They settle on the pristinely made bed and cuddle.

"Do you want to be together, Shepard?" Kaidan finally asks.

"I don't know."

"Do you love me, like I love you?"

"I don't know anymore. I used to."

He tries to ignore the sting that confession produces.

"What are you doing with me, then? The sex? The cuddling?"

"… I don't know. I try and recall how it used to be, you know? But all I can feel now is this hole in my chest where Normandy was. And I want something to fill it, and when I'm with you… when I'm with you it's the closest it gets."

"I'm glad you told me that," he replies, kissing her again. She accepts and even smiles, her hands snaking down his pants. Kaidan breath hitches when she reaches her goal.

"Should we keep doing this?"

"It's just sex," she replies. "Unless I gross you out now?" She motions down her body.

"No, of course not. You're gorgeous. I mean, should we keep confusing everything with sex?"

"Everything is confused anyway," she says, beginning to stoke him firmly. "Sex makes me feel a little better for just a little while."

Her mouth follows the path her hand took and soon he is engulfed in her mouth, praying to all the gods he doesn't believe in that Anderson never finds out what he's doing in his spare bedroom.

She divests herself of her clothes and helps him with his, and climbs on top of him, setting the pace with slow rotations of her hips.

Kaidan risks it all as he watches her with her head thrown back and her hair undone from its pretty bun. He smoothes his hand over the taut skin of her tummy and although she pauses just for a moment in the action of her hips, she doesn't fiercely reject him.

"You're beautiful, Shepard," he hums, rising up with her still impaled on him. He kisses her mouth and she responds, open-mouthed and desperate, panting against him mouth, his neck, her hips moving faster and faster, cradled on his lap.

"Oh god," she mouths. "Oh god. You feel right with me. Oh god."

"That's it, baby. Let go. It's OK. Just come for me."

She does so, shuddering above him, her hand in her mouth to keep from crying out. Her expression is one of beatification.

He follows behind her peak moments later, the spasm of her muscles squeezing him to completion.

Afterwards they lay in silence, Kaidan just stroking her hair. He can see her eyes in the darkness and they stare unblinking around the room. He wonders what she sees, or if she's just lost to memories.

"Shepard?"

"Hmm?"

"What are thinking about?"

"Cheesepuffs."

"What?"

"I'm want cheesepuffs. Joker used to eat them all the time. His fingers would get all orange and gross and he'd put his hands all over the Normandy controls. It used to drive me nuts, but he'd always share with me because he knows I like junk food because of all the calories and sugar content. Cheesepuffs," she repeats, eyes a fathomless pool.

"We'll buy you some cheesepuffs tomorrow."

"They won't be the same," she mumbles before her eyes close and her breath evens out, her head cradled on his chest. "It's so stupid when you pin all your dreams on one fragile thing. I let the Normandy slip right past my guard."

He doesn't say anything because he doesn't know how to vocalize that she and the baby have become his 'one fragile thing'.

"It's not stupid," is what he eventually says instead.

She's already asleep.

Kaidan pads out to the kitchen sometime in the night when Shepard awakens from a nightmare and he notes her lips are dry and cracked again. The dream makes her groggy and he hopes a drink of water will allow her to fall back into more pleasant dreams.

To his surprise, there's a light on in the office and he curiously goes to check it out.

Anderson is on the comm to someone. "How many? Shit. That's half the crew. Hannah?"

There's a pause and a sick feeling lodges itself in his stomach.

Anderson swears at whatever answer he receives. "Why the hell were they in Terminus space?"

Kaidan stands there, a glass of water in his hands, and he knows that he doesn't want Shepard to know about whatever's happened. He also knows that he has zero chance of keeping it from her.

Anderson finishes his phone call and turns around, not even blinking in surprise to see Kaidan standing there, his senses probably letting him know as soon as Kaidan walked in the room.

"What's happened, sir?"

"The Kilimanjaro received a distress signal from what seemed to be an Alliance frigate in Terminus space. They decided to investigate. It was a trap. They were attacked by a ship that matched the description of the one that took down the Normandy."

Kaidan gapes. "How the hell did they take down a dreadnought?"

"Ripped right through their shields to the main engine. They were dead in the water. They had a wolf pack accompaniment, but they were taken out in the first wave, too. Three frigates gone. No survivors."

"Kilimanjaro's crew? There's over five hundred crew to a dreadnought, sir."

"Three hundred KIA. Hannah Shepherd was killed in the attack."

Kaidan looks away, stunned. Despite her sometimes brash attitude, he greatly respected Captain Shepherd and appreciated all she had done for him.

"Why would they attack Kilimanjaro? What's the point, what's the goal? There are never any demands for surrender. No communication. They just appear out of nowhere and blow us out of the sky," Kaidan says, frustrated with all the losses and lack of explanation.

"They're looking for me," a quiet voice says, and he spins to see Shepard hovering at the entrance, that horrible darkness in her eyes. She's thrown on one of her tattered pairs of pajama pants and singlets and in it he can see how unnaturally thin she looks, all the more blatant for the rounding of her belly.

"Or people relating to me," she continues, padding further into the room. "They attacked the Normandy to get to me. They killed Joker in the process of trying to kill me. They attacked the Kilimanjaro because I was once on it, or because they knew Kaidan once was. I'm responsible for all those deaths."

"You're not," he says fiercely. "Don't think that for a second."

"It's true," she replies, voice empty. "If I had died when I was meant to… the Kilimanjaro would still be around. They know I'm not dead and they'll just keep trying, over and over, until they succeed. How many more ships will burn for me? How many people?"

"None will," Anderson says. "There's a ban on Terminus flight. They're mobilizing the fleet."

"The Council won't allow you to take fleets into the Terminus, not even to garrison human colonies," Shepard argues. "You know it. We're powerless out there. Our enemy is unknown. We don't know when they'll strike, how, or even the technology they use."

The two men are silent, powerless in the face of her truth.

"The fact remains that more than three hundred soldiers have died for me needlessly. And it's not going to happen again."

"Shepard?" Kaidan asks urgently, starting forward. "Don't, this isn't your fault."

"I have a plan for the future, Kaidan. We all make sacrifices," she says, eyes serene. "I'm going to bed. You can join me if you want."

Anderson glances at Kaidan as Shepard leaves and he goes to follow.

"Kaidan…"

"Yeah?"

"She's right. They won't stop. She needs to disappear."

Kaidan meets his eyes. "I can't let her."

In bed, Shepard is cold and distant, as if the little peace they made has shattered into pieces. She won't speak, won't cuddle, won't respond, and eventually he drifts into uneasy sleep.

In the morning he leaves her to her fitful slumber and goes to buy cheesepuffs. When he comes back, she's gone and Anderson won't tell him where.

"Tell me. I have a right to know."

"She's left the Citadel, Kaidan," Anderson says with a heavy sigh. "She made me promise not to tell. She said to tell you she just wants time and she'll contact you when she's ready. She said that she needs to figure some things out in a safe place, one she doesn't have to worry about being attacked, or drawing attackers to others around her. She wants you to be safe and she thinks by distancing herself from you, you will be."

No matter how Kaidan asks, pleads, orders or gets angry, Anderson remains unmoved and respectful of her wishes.

"She's safe. I made sure of it and she'll keep in touch."

"That's cold comfort," Kaidan snarls, on the verge of punching him in the face. "With all due respect, sir, kiss my ass."

He spends the rest of his leave searching for her in forgotten places, even taking a shuttle to Intai'sei and walking through her desolate and empty apartment.

The still dirty bed sheets mock him, whisper to him, and laugh at his folly.

He sits on the bed and thinks, This is where our lives changed forever. Where I ruined everything by falling in love with a ghost.