Homefront Warfare
Jameson, Johnny, and Jack
After the funeral, Shepard had pleaded off more of the food Kaidan had offered with an "I'm tired" before venturing into the downstairs guest room and shutting the door. He had no idea if she had slept or not, but he was too exhausted to wonder.
Ever since then a new normal had come to exist in their apartment; Kaidan still slept in the upstairs master bedroom, Shepard occupied the downstairs guest room, and the ghost of their child haunted everything between them.
Their apartment had become a tomb. All warmth had been sucked into the vacuum of Juliet's room. A month ago Kaidan had approached getting the room packed away, but Shepard had refused him. He didn't want to push her, so the mosaic of children's toys and now useless baby paraphernalia remained sealed behind the bedroom door. Neither he nor Shepard dared venture into Juliet's shrine.
If they did speak to each other it was in short, terse conversations about work or the news or anything else that didn't really matter. Kaidan made sure to cook for her every night, as that was the only way he could make sure she was eating. At first they still dined together, even if they didn't say anything. Eventually, however, Shepard had stated taking her meals in her room. And Kaidan had turned his glass of whiskey a night into a bottle a night habit. Every day they became more like reluctant roommates instead of husband and wife.
Kaidan sighed when he came home from work and saw that the meal he had left out for Shepard was gone from the counter and her bedroom door was shut. He knew she was home, but the gulf that had formed between them since Juliet's funeral felt far too immersive to be crossed tonight.
The months since the funeral had been some of the loneliest in Kaidan's' life – including the years that he had thought Shepard dead. The worst thing in life wasn't being alone, but rather being with a woman that made him feel all alone. Kaidan knew that she was trying to be strong, but strength wasn't what he needed from her. She never let him see her cry, even though he knew she could hardly bring herself to stop. She had shut down, and shut him out. He didn't blame her, but he needed more to hold than a bottle at night.
Kaidan dropped his datapad – filled with essays on biotic biology that he needed to grade before the end of the weekend – onto the kitchen counter. He spread his hands on the cool marble, let his head drop forward, and sighed. He closed his eyes, listening hard. It took a moment, but finally he heard a clunk from the bedroom – the sound of something being sat on a dresser – a sign that Shepard was still alive. He let out the breath he'd been holding and walked away.
Their bar – which had once been properly stocked – was looking far more depleted nowadays. He tried not to think about how much of that was his fault. The whiskey was the first to go, followed quickly by the bourbon and brandy. He still had a few bottles of Earth spirits – namely vodka and gin – mixed in with the alien drinks and cases of shard wine that Shepard seemed to favor. He lifted a bottle of clear alcohol and gave it a sniff, wrinkling his nose at the harsh smell.
He stoppered the bottle, but still held it in his hands. As he leaned against the bar his eyes wandered the dark room, settling on the unlit fireplace. It used to be his favorite part of the apartment. The warm crackle of the fireplace was reminiscent of bonfire's he and his family would have at the orchard, before his powers manifested and he was swept away to brain camp. It made the apartment feel alive, warm, and inviting.
He couldn't remember the last time they had lit a fire. Couldn't remember the last time they had sat in the living room, and just had a damn conversation together.
Actually, he could. It had been in the late months of Shepard's pregnancy. They had laid together on the couch, staring into the warm blaze and just…talking. About everything, and nothing all at the same time. He could almost hear the echoes of her laughter – God, he used to make her laugh – and the feel of their baby churning under his hand, inside her stomach.
A jolt of desire and pain flashed through him so strongly and suddenly it was like he'd been shot. It wasn't just the loss of their child that was killing him, but the loss of intimacy, loss of happiness, loss of…everything.
Now everything they had been, everything they should have had was scattered and burnt to the ground, like the ashes that had yet to be cleared out of the bottom of their fireplace.
Screw it, he thought to himself. He traded the bottle in his hands for his jacket hanging on the mantle. He need to go to a place that had some life to it.
Kaidan motioned to the bartender for another. The Turian gave him a suspicious look that transcended species barriers. Even Kaidan – in his inebriated state – caught the meaning in his gaze. The Turian was wondering if it was time to cut the biotic off. Any other barkeep would have cut Kaidan off a few drinks back. "C'mon!" Kaidan slurred in an attempt at cajoling the Turian. "Juss gi' me one more. I'm good fo' it."
"Two of whatever he's drinking," a familiar, feminine voice said from behind him. Turning around on the narrow bar stool seemed a bit too much movement for his nervous system to handle, so he waited until the woman saddled up to the bar next to him.
Kaidan recognized Jack by her numerous tattoos rather than her face. "You gonna walk his drunk ass out of here at the end of the night?" the bartender snapped at her.
"I'm gonna walk his ass or kick yours – which would you prefer?" Jack said with minimal heat in her voice as she took the stool next to Kaidan. The Turian poured out two more double whiskeys and slapped them down in front of the pair before striding off towards the end of the bar.
"Better make this one last," Jack told Kaidan. "I got a feeling service is gonna suck here the rest of the night."
Kaidan nodded and raised his glass so it was level with his face. He watched, transfixed, as the ice tumbled in the warm amber liquid. "What're you doin' here?"
"Got a call from one of your students. They were out celebrating a birthday and saw you over here trying to drown yourself." Surprised, Kaidan tried to whip himself around the stool to see if he could spot a group of his students in the crowd. Jack grabbed his shoulder and righted him as he almost crashed to the sticky bar floor. "God dammit, man. I swear if you end up puking on me tonight I will throw your ass off a balcony."
"sSorry," he slurred as he righted himself while miraculously keeping a grip on his drink.
Jack slowly withdrew her hand from his shoulder as if she didn't quite trust him to keep himself upright. Shaking her head, she picked up her own glass and took a deep swallow. "So what's the story? Where's Shepard tonight?"
Surprisingly, Jack had been the one to recruit Kaidan as a professor for Grissom Academy after the war ended. His knee had been badly damaged after the final push to the beacon. He probably could have gotten back up to the Alliance physical requirements, but it would have taken a lot of therapy and more than one surgery. Beyond that, cybernetics and medical care was scarce since the Reapers had demolished damn near every medical hospital left on Earth. Kaidan had enjoyed teaching, so he had taken up Jack's offer and allowed himself to be shuttled out of the military on medical discharge. Shepard, the hero of the galaxy, was allowed to keep her military title – even after she took the Human Councilor position – although her rank was an empty title. She had no military command, but people enjoyed the right to address her as 'Commander Shepard'.
Jack tapped the bar in front of him, bringing him back to the conversation. Kaidan thought about shrugging, but reconsidered as he watched the bottles swim in front of him. "I dunno," he answered Jack's original question. "Think she's at home. Door was shut."
"The door to the apartment? Don't you have a key?"
"No," he shook his head. "The door to her room."
Jack paused for a moment, deciding not to follow that line of questioning. Then she sighed. "Alright, biotic-boy. What's going on with you two?"
Kaidan snorted at the 'biotic-boy' comment – everything was funny to him when he was drunk – then took another sip, splashing a bit of whisky down his chin. "Ah…I dunno," he admitted in a drawling voice. "Since…since Juliet, we haven't…she's shut me out."
Kaidan wasn't laughing anymore as he held the glass in front of him. He was looking at his drink, but his eyes were far away, as if he had forgotten it was in his hand. Jack recognized the look of deeply-seated pain in his eyes.
"Yeah, she misses the rug-rat," Jack said in a tone that was as soft as her voice ever got. "I don't begrudge her the pain."
"No, no, no, I don't either," Kaidan protested. "But…she was my rug-rat too!" He turned to look at Jack, with an over-eager expression that only a drunkard ever wore. "And I…I miss her too! But…I miss Shepard too, too."
Jack frowned at the hand Kaidan had placed on her shoulder. She gave him a look until he removed the offending digit, then she took a sip of her drink. This conversation was way out of her wheel-house, and she knew it.
"So…is this," Jack gestured to Kaidan's inebriated state, "in response to losing your kiddo, or because of the issues between you and Shepard?"
That question required a little more brainpower than Kaidan currently had available to him. He paused, sifting through her words like a computer that took a little too long to power up. "Both…I guess?" he said in an unsure voice. Then he sighed, trying to find a way to explain it to the tattooed woman next to him. "Losing Juliet…it sucks. It sucks bad. And Shepard is the only one who understands exactly how that feels…"
"Okay," Jack interrupted. "Then I got a question. Why the hell are you talking to me about this? Go chat up your wife. Last I remember she loved telling people how to deal with their problems."
Kaidan shook his head at Jack's uncharitable representation of Shepard. "I can't…I can't talk ta' Shepard about this kinda stuff. She needs me ta' be strong."
"Well that's bullshit," Jack said and took another long swallow of whiskey. "Shepard doesn't need anyone to be strong for her. Go talk to her. Fight with her if you need to."
"I wish she'd fight with me! You can't fight someone who refuses to get in the ring with you!"
"Then go fuck her," she suggested passively. "I've solved a lot of my problems with hate fucking. Or hate killing, but I'm guessing that's off the table."
Before Kaidan could respond a large Batarian – with facial scars to rival that of Garrus' – walked up behind them. "Okay," he said gruffly. "Time to go."
The Batarian bouncer had evidently been called over by the bartender. The Turian glanced at them with a victorious look from the other end of the bar. Jack rolled her eyes, guiding Kaidan off of his stool. She felt the itch to fight against the Batarian and the self-righteous Turian, but she knew that the bouncer would call over more of his bouncer-friends, and her only backup was looking like he was having trouble locating his feet as he stepped away from the bar. She had no doubt that she would win the fight, but she'd have to do it in front of her students, and that would result in yet another disciplinary session with the academy's principal.
Yeah. Being responsible sucked Varren tits.
