Kaidan was grateful Shepard didn't remember her death.
He could recall it vividly, and every time it snaked it's way into his dreams, he'd wake up with a legendary migraine, each worse than the last. Hearing her suffocate but not being able to do anything was a paralyzing terror that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
He'd screamed her name repeatedly, not Shepard, but her given name, because he wasn't crying out for his commander. He had clawed at the bars binding him to his seat, while the people sharing the pod hurried to get him to calm down before he ignited his biotics.
He knew there was nothing he could do to stop the commander's inevitable death, but he ceaselessly fought to get to her. Even if it was just to watch her die, he wanted her to have the solace of a friend to lull her into a peaceful death.
But it was too late. By the time he got past his bindings in the pod, Shepard had drawn her last breath and the comm had gone hauntingly silent.