Fire the fields, the weed is sown.

- Faunts M4 Part II

Being back on the Normandy, was like stepping into bliss. I know there's an apocalypse going on; I haven't lost sight. I am where I wanted to be. Friends and familiar faces surround me. And in the downtime between horror and death, it is pleasant to spend time here. It's easy for me to escape when I need to; the migraines are as promised, increasingly worse. It doesn't stop me from anything, mostly makes me a little antisocial at worst. From here, I can watch Shepard closely; help him in any way I can. After a few days, it's plain to see that Shepard is under a tremendous amount of stress, of course. He's not sleeping well: are any of us? Looking out of the observation lounge window, I cannot help but visualise each star as a life, screaming out into the black silence. Helpless, alone, while here I am sitting, waiting to serve. I know the practicalities of rest; but it's hard to make a joyful moment when you know so many suffer.

Shepard often takes time out of his busy day to speak to his crew. I notice how little time he spends alone. It's no coincidence that he avoids that same time with his thoughts. His attentiveness to his crews need is commendable; he never lets anyone slip under the radar. His visits to me are moments where I can bask in him.

The conversations we have are incidental to the actual time spent together. We laugh and joke; get sad and relate. There are moments where I get glimpses of the man behind the legend that is Commander Shepard, a softer, sweeter and more sensual man than he normally allows to be seen. I cannot describe what these moments mean to me, they are beautiful, self-contained pieces of heaven. I am always left wanting. I want those eyes to look at me and reflect the fire back at me. It's not fair; I know it's not. He is my Commander and I'm sure he doesn't feel the same.

It's not just me either; I see how the rest of the crew admire him in one way or another. It's clear that Liara loves him deeply; I know they are just friends, but occasionally I see a wistful look cross her face. When I see her look at him like that, I fear that I am as transparent; I try very hard not to reveal the depth of my feeling. It's my burden. I have resigned myself to this state of perpetual unfulfilled desire. Being a part of his life is privilege enough, I tell myself.

For a while, this worked; I kept myself in check and was the best possible soldier and friend I could be. That was because of him, for him: I wanted to be better. But then something changed, his visits became more frequent. He checked in on me when I least suspected it, often sharing meals together and passing time, like we had an abundance of it. There were no complaints from me on this front; but I started to see the idea of feeling enough for both of us, was going make me explode.

I recalled a conversation we had in my quarters, I'd told him about my Dad being MIA and I'd asked him how he coped.

"I feel for you Kaidan. There's strength in camaraderie, in empathy," he'd said.

I asked, "How do you do it, Shepard, keeping it together like this?"

"I use it. I think of how Earth looked, how it's going to look when we go back. I think of the people I've lost; the people I might lose. It's not rage, but the fuel from where my anger burns. But you can't let it take you over, just give you the strength to carry on." I remember the way he'd spoken touched me; he was never scared to say how he felt or thought. I was so happy that he could speak to me the way I felt I could speak to him. Another moment, treasured.

The conversation played on my mind for days, while Shepard spent time with me. I knew, after a while, that I couldn't carry on. There was one particular night, where we had become so comfortable with each other, we'd sat, hardly talking, looking out at the stars from the observation deck. I don't know what he was thinking, but I was painfully aware that he was sitting next to me, so close… so far. The talking had petered out, but the peace from the quiet and the natural sounds of the ship, were comforting. I could hear Shepard's breathing, when I glanced at him he had his eyes closed. At first, I thought he was asleep, but I saw him smile, ever so softly.

He didn't open his eyes, just said, "Kaidan, are you watching me sleep?"

Completely flustered, I blurted, "No, Sir! I mean, yes… well I didn't know if you were sleeping. I was just… checking." Yeah, good recovery, Kaidan.

Shepard just smiled wider, eyes still shut, not saying anything, and clearly enjoying my embarrassment.

Desperate to say something, I add, "I mean, if you are tired... why don't you just put your feet up here and catch ten."

He simply says, "Ok. Thanks," and sinks a little lower on the couch putting his feet up on the table in front. I see him relax, his smile fades, and his breathing slows. Now, I am watching him sleep, not creepy at all. All sorts of stupid, juvenile stuff parades through my head, like wanting to hold him, kiss him, but respect does not allow me to violate the vulnerable trust given to me. I do watch him sleep, until I also drift off. When I wake up, Shepard is gone and my gut wrenches with a feeling I'm familiar with: loss. I know then that things cannot continue the way they have been.

The thing is I'm not sure what to do. Spending less time with him is not what I want. So, I do the only thing open to me. I do nothing.

A few more days go by. After Shepard has finished briefing Anderson and Hackett, he drops by with dinner. I have bad migraine, the meds aren't helping much, and I asked the Doc for something to help. I guess Shepard must have heard this from her and knew I'd be hiding out in my quiet and darkened room.

"Hey, I heard you weren't feeling great and saw you'd missed dinner. I missed it too, so I brought you some of what I was making."

"Wow, thanks Shepard, I was feeling a bit peckish." He hands me the plate and it smells good, something Italian I think, smells of tomato. I am, again, touched by his thoughtfulness.

"I can't promise it's a culinary delight, but you know, fills a hole." I tuck in gratefully. I notice my migraine has faded a little, it's quite bearable now. As I am eating, I notice Shepard is watching me, not the whole time, but glancing. I can tell he seems slightly off, nervous even. I understand he's here for something else. Perhaps something Hackett or Anderson has told him, I guess. I finish and rest the plate down on the table; we make small talk for a time. The whole time we are talking, I notice that he is not relaxed.

Eventually I have to ask, "Is everything all right, Shepard? You seem tense tonight."

He looks at me for a couple beats and says, "Yeah, everything is fine. I'm just tired, not been sleeping great."

"When did you last catch some?" I ask.

Again the pause. He's trying to remember when he last slept. "Probably last time I sat here."

"That was three days ago! No wonder you are jittery."

He shakes his head, " Nah, that's just the side effects of the coffee I've been surviving on."

"Shepard, you can't carry on like that. You should seriously consider getting some meds and shut eye."

"I can't take meds; need to be awake at a moment's notice. Maybe I could just relax here for a while?" He's dog-tired and I feel for him.

"Of course you can. In fact," I say, getting up and pulling out that bottle he'd given me, "one of these won't hurt you either."

We sit back together on the couch, sipping our drinks and there's this moment. I feel him looking at me, I don't turn or look at him, because I'm suddenly afraid of what I'll see if I do. I focus on the sparking suns twinkling through the window from the cold blackness of space. I feel him move and rest his arm across the back of the couch, his hand somewhere behind my neck. I can feel its warmth, its closeness. I sip my drink; I pretend I haven't noticed. But I have and I'm starved of physical closeness, my body tingles in a way I wish it wouldn't, not right now. He's so close to me I can smell him, I know how that sounds, but everyone has their own scent and I know his well. It's overwhelming. It's embarrassing. I feel myself physically responding to his presence, I drop my hand into my lap to hide it. And there we sit, not talking and drinking. That is until I hear his soft snore and I look to see he is actually asleep. I'm relieved and disappointed at the same time. I take the glass from his relaxed grip and then cover him with a blanket. He looks uncomfortable, but I daren't move him, he is at least asleep. I watch him for a while and decide I'm going to tell him how I feel. Not now, just when the next opportunity arises. I settle on the other end of the couch and watch him until I fall asleep.

This time, when Shepard wakes up, I hear him. He says, "Kaidan?" Softly.

I turn and open my eyes sleepily, "I'm awake." I have to blink a couple of times before I can focus on him fully.

"Do you want coffee?" His face is alarmingly close to mine and I just nod stupidly. And then he gets up and is gone. Presumably, to fetch the coffee, which gives me enough time to shower. When I return to my quarters, the coffee is sitting on the table, steaming.

Xxx

Next time we are on the Citadel, I ask Shepard if he wants to meet me for lunch on the promenade, which he agrees to pretty quickly. I'm so nervous; I feel sick. I ask myself a hundred times if telling him is the right thing to do. Will it change the dynamic between us? I feel if I don't; I've wasted my second chance. I might die tomorrow, and whilst Shepard will know I was a loyal soldier, can I die knowing that he didn't know the depth of my feeling for him?

I'm early, of course I'm early, and I've already had a straight up scotch. Dutch courage. I doubt, insecurity thrums through me in waves, I'm not worthy. And then Shepard sits beside me. I look at him and know I am making the right choice. We small talk about food and get on to the subject of life.

I tell him how I planned my life but hadn't planned on Armageddon. Dating in the apocalypse is hard.

"Maybe what I've never found, and what I want, is something deeper with somebody I already care about. Well that's what I want; what do you want?

"Me and you Kaidan? Is that what you are saying?" He looks taken aback, surprised even. My heart takes a nosedive into the pit of my stomach.

"Yes."

I know what he's going to say before he says it, my ego hides. "Kaidan, I think we should keep this professional."

"Wow, this was way less awkward in my mind," I say, "I want you to know I admire you, as my Commander, you are a friend to me."

Shepard nods and tells me I'm like a brother to him. Damnit. The rest of the meal passes without much awkwardness, Shepard puts me as ease, as he always does. But, he is quick to leave once the meal is completed. Why, I ask myself, did I just do that… I knew it would fuck things up.

He leaves it two days before he comes by to see me again. Perhaps to give me a little space, to compose myself. I'm not composed. I feel like I've made an ass of myself, humiliated myself in front of him. He keeps it casual and doesn't stay as long as he used to. At first, I think I have ruined things, but then, gradually I see it hasn't. Shepard still spends time with me, brings me meals when I am ill and occasionally falls asleep on my couch. But the line is drawn and I have no place in crossing it, no matter how much I might want to.