They way to break through anger and resentment and love anyone is to realize that they might be lost to you. If it causes you more pain to lose someone than it does to live with them you know that you love them, and knowing you love them you must fight to keep them with you.

- Matriarch Nezirah

Years ago, shortly after he left Earth for the Calypso Technical Academy, Ramirez had taken him to the observation deck before lunch one day. There they had used a star chart and a telescope to locate Earth in the glittering bowl of the heavens that stretched beyond the amber curve of Jupiter. It had been funny to two kids who had never left their home planet before. Ramirez was Cuban too, if from a slightly less desperate part of the country, and the two of them had dialed in their telescope until they could see the island sitting there in the blue sea, half obscured by light clouds. It had been very beautiful, he remembered that even now.

Ramirez had gotten poetic and teary-eyed, she was a child of the colonies and to her Earth was a symbol. For Shepard it was a reality and a bloody wound still raw in his chest, he remembered thinking that if there had been a way to wipe Cuba off the face of that planet he would have taken it in an instant.

It was a childish thought but he had been young, and it was one of the better thoughts his warped psyche could handle at the moment. He had hated Cuba for years, until the ceremony after Elysium had drawn him back. Outside of the simmering mire of Trinidad there was so much beauty to be had there. And there was the Caribbean Sea, the most beautiful thing in the world, warm and jewel blue and stretching into the dark, quiet ocean.

After Elysium he realized that despite everything that had happened there Cuba was his home. He felt more comfortable speaking Cubano Spanish than English like he did off planet, he loved the food, loved the colour of its people and he loved being that close to the sea all the time. He didn't like flying away from it. It made him angry, to tell the truth.

He tamed that anger with willpower, breathing deeply as he pulled up the specs on the armour reserves onboard and started putting together a suite. There was N7 equipment, and Shepard smiled. Anderson.

The smile died as he remembered where Anderson was at the moment, the sight of him becoming smaller and smaller as the Normandy pulled away from Earth.

"There's ammo," Kaidan informed him quietly, appearing with a data pad in hand, "but no weapons on board outside the anti-boarding garrison."

"We'll make do with what we brought from Earth," Shepard replied, not looking up or turning around. "You know Alenko, I'm sure Lieutenant Vega and I can handle this. You can stay on ship and make sure everything's up and running..."

"What?" Kaidan put the data pad down. "Are you kidding? Who's going to watch your six?"

"I don't trust you," Shepard replied mildly. "I don't trust you to watch my six and I don't trust you to follow my orders." He could feel Alenko looking at him, but he pretended he didn't.

"I don't trust you either," he said finally.

"I know. That's the problem."

He finally looked up. How had they come to this, the two of them? This man had been his best friend once. His best friend and... something else. The first time he had saved the galaxy he snuck out of the docks afterwards with Alenko in civilian clothes, avoiding the clustered reporters, and gotten absolutely shit-faced at one of the few remaining intact bars on the Citadel. Business had been booming and they'd taken their last bottle out into the wards and drunk it on a rooftop, laying drowsily side by side and talking about nothing for hours. Shepard had been entirely too drunk to try anything on him, but it had felt intensely intimate, far more than a whiskey-soaked hook-up would have. He'd floated around on a cloud for a week afterwards, feeling feather light and immortal. Even Anderson had noticed.

And now they were here looking at each other and nothing was the way it was supposed to be. He could feel Kaidan's gaze crawl down his face and notice the half-faded hickey standing out on his neck. The muscles in his jaw tightened a little, and Shepard fought down a blush. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and yet his guts were twisting like cobras and he felt the sudden urge to sink through the floor of the Normandy and disappear. Despite everything that had happened between the two of them Kaidan had no right to get upset over anything, or anyone, Shepard might have been doing in the six months since his trial. That made all sorts of logical sense, but if Kaidan had been the one working his way through the bars around Alliance HQ for the last six months...

Shepard sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying and failing to understand how everything had gone so wrong so suddenly. It wasn't within the powers of his substantial intelligence to understand the way the universe worked.

"You stay on my ten," he said finally, "and follow orders. Are we clear, Major Alenko?"

"Crystal."

They looked at each other for another long moment. The air between them was tense; the moment was full of emotions neither of them was willing to give voice to. There wasn't time to delve into everything that was wrong between them right now, and the any chance they would have to do it at all would only come after Shepard proved he was an Alliance soldier not a Cerberus pawn.

Kaidan turned and walked away.

Shepard breathed deeply, trying to summon the Teachings of the Garden. The Sixth and largest part of the Justicar Code its principal purpose was to teach meditation, and Shepard sunk into the quiet he had managed to build within himself. It was not unlike that old black place, the feeling of dry steel making him strong and sure, but it was brighter and found the good inside of him rather than what was cruel and savage.

Even if nothing came of it, Shepard felt it was important for Kaidan to know he wasn't with Cerberus, that his first and deepest loyalty was and always had been to the Alliance. Nothing would be right until he knew that. He focused in on the thought and let it fill him with purpose, with determination and force. It was the only way to handle what was happening to him right now.

"So, Shepard," Vega said quietly, glancing away in the direction Kaidan had gone to make sure he was out of earshot. "Anything I should know?"

"If I thought there was something you needed to know I would tell you," Shepard replied tersely.

"Sure," Vega nodded, "but there's something going on between the two of you and I don't want to get out there and find out it's some wacked out craziness."

Shepard stared at him for a moment, working over the dozen or so available options for continuing the conversation. He hadn't quite decided what he thought about Lieutenant Vega. It felt odd to stand on a ship with a man whose service history he hadn't reviewed; it was a fundamental part of any relationship between Alliance men, like a pedigree for soldiers. Rank, reputation, medals and commendations, all of these things were almost as vital as actual interaction when it came to forming an opinion about a fellow man in uniform. Without it, Shepard didn't know how to dissect this man and understand him. He was in the dark with him as much as he was with Alenko.

"The major and I have history," he allowed. "We served together on the Normandy SR1 before I died. We haven't seen each other since he testified at my trial."

"Right," Vega eyed him warily. "So you really died? I mean, people talk about it all the time but the Alliance hasn't really come out and made that the official story. Grievously wounded is what the court transcripts say."

"My advocate thought it would be better if I watered it down for the trial and the press," Shepard said quietly, "but I won't lie to anyone who asks me about it. I died. The lights went out, the curtain was drawn, the show was over."

"Shit," Vega rubbed his jaw. "That sounds a little loco, Shepard."

"I don't care how it sounds. You can look at the data if you think it'll make sense to you, there should still be copies of the files on the Normandy's computers. EDI will give you access," Shepard turned back to his terminal. "I know what happened to me, Vega."

"Hey, a species of ancient sentient starships just got spat out by the universe and invaded my planet," Vega shrugged, "if you say you died I'll say that's the second most fucked up thing I've heard today. Don't see why you'd lie about it anyway. If you were a Cerberus stooge and you knew this was coming you would have stayed with them instead of sitting on your hands and playing advisor for the last six months."

"Is that your professional opinion?" Shepard asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over at him. "If you've solved the whole Shepard Dilemma you should see if you can get on some talk shows and spread the word."

"It just makes sense to me," Vega shrugged, "can't expect other people to see it the way I do. But my gut says I can trust you, Shepard, and that's all I've got to go on right now. I'll watch your six, and keep an eye on Alenko."

"Major Alenko will be fine, Lieutenant," Shepard dropped his gaze back down to his terminal and finished fine-tuning his hardsuit and stim suite. His omni-tool lit up as it connected with the programs running through the terminal and started downloading data. "The only thing that could make him behave as anything but a professional would be me, revealing myself to truly be a Cerberus spy. Just watch his back, I don't know how distracted he'll be."

"Gotcha," Vega nodded, "I'll go make sure the shuttle is prepped for takeoff."

"Self motivated, I like you already," Shepard closed the screen on the terminal. His reflection appeared, albeit distorted, in the polished metal casing below it.

His scars had come back, just faintly, across his jaw and cheeks over the last couple months along with a rotten feeling in his gut that nothing could banish. His entire life was focused on the Reapers now. There were no other wars or other causes for him anymore, no other goals, no other dreams or aspirations; almost every thought had was focused on destroying them. He had felt them coming, felt it in his bones as every instinct screamed at him night and day. It caused a lot of stress. That was probably what was causing his scars to come back.

Shepard ran a hand over his face, pressing his fingers closed on the bridge of his nose. It caused a lot of stress. He found the pills the doctor at Alliance HQ had given him for migraines and dry swallowed one as an ominous pain took root in both temples.

They were twenty minutes away from dock when Shepard finally made his way back to the medbay. There were other things he could be doing, should be doing, but he knew that it was no use trying to resist this place. His hard was thundering in the back of his throat, pounding the back of his skull until thinking became difficult. What was going on inside him wasn't as sophisticated as thinking, he felt raw and uncomfortably emotional as he sat down beside Kaidan's bed and braced his hands against his knees.

Unconscious people were very rarely aware of what was going on around them, Shepard had studied enough first aid and basic medicine to know that. Still, it felt like he should say something.

"I'm sorry, Kaidan," he rasped, finally. It felt like his mouth was full of wet sand, difficult to maneuver around the words. "I was so angry at you. It's funny, or not really funny but... well you know. I had this same conversation with Lawson just a few months ago, it feels like I should have realized this sooner. I was wrong, Kaidan. You were a victim of the Collectors just as much as I was, and the way things are between us... it's their fault, not yours. I should have stayed angry at the Reapers instead of taking it out on you. I'm sorry. I should have been angry at the ones who did this to us."

He rubbed at the hickey on his neck.

"And because I'll never have what it takes to admit this to your face... those other guys were nothing. Like shadows. And every time, when it was done and I felt dirty and tired, I always thought of you. Hah. That sounds weird. What I meant was... I don't know. I thought about you a lot these last six months, and before, when I was going through the Omega-4 Relay to what everyone said was suicide I... I wasn't thinking about getting back to Earth so I could screw a bunch of random guys. I was thinking of you..."

He trailed off as he heard the medbay doors swish open behind him. His cybernetic senses had many benefits. He recognized the sound of Liara's heels on the steel floor and the lingering scent of her perfume as soon as she entered the room. She came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"He can't die, Liara," he said, not looking up at her. Kaidan's eyes were sunk in the centre of deepening purple bruises, the force of his eyeballs slamming back and forth in his skull had provided him with a pair of impressive shiners. "He can't."

"Kaidan's a soldier, a fighter," Liara assured him, squatting down on her heels beside him and moving her hand from his shoulder to his knee. "He'll pull through."

"There's still so much that's so wrong between us. I can't... I need to make things right," Shepard couldn't look at Liara, it was easier to pretend he was still speaking to the empty air. "I can't take another Ash, I just... I just can't."

Liara put a hand on his cheek and turned his face towards her. They looked at each other for a moment.

"Kaidan is going to fight this war," she said quietly, "and you're going to fight yours. I see what there is between you, Shepard. It's something worth fighting for."

Shepard swallowed and nodded after a moment, letting a deep breath run through him, letting her words settle like a stone in the centre of his chaotic feelings

"You're right. Of course you're right." He shook himself. "Thanks Liara... just thanks."

She squeezed his knee and stood up. "I'll get some ensigns down here to carry him ashore. There should be paramedics waiting for us when we dock."

"Good," Shepard stood up. There really were things he should be doing. He put his hand on Kaidan's shoulder, looking down at his unconscious face. He knew, at an intellectual level, that he hadn't heard anything that had been said here and that was probably a good thing. He knew he couldn't feel his hand on his shoulder. He squeezed anyway, and hoped that Kaidan understood everything that was here, standing beside him, and that it was still worth fighting for.