A/N – third of four chapters I'm posting tonight. This one, folks, made me cry when writing it, so tissue warning ahead, especially if you're a huge fan of Thane, as I am. You've been warned!
When Kaidan walked out of Shepard's room, he was pretty sure a part of him had died. He had sincerely thought that they had left the recriminations and accusations of the past behind them and had moved on and learned to treat each other better. Clearly, he had been a fool. Still, he wished she could understand that his decision to keep the more painful facts from her – temporarily – hadn't been made out of malice, but love. He wished she would let him love her the way she deserved. The one thing he knew was that he wasn't going to let this fester, let it lie. He considered his leaving just now nothing more than a tactical retreat. He would give her some time to calm down, to think, and he would try again later. And if that didn't work, he'd keep trying if he had to beat sense into her thick head with her own shotgun. He paused outside the door to his office to reflect that perhaps, he too should calm down a bit. Contemplating bodily harm to the woman he had protected out of love seemed counterproductive to his goal.
He shook his head, deciding to put the argument behind him and get some work done, he entered his office, to see Liara sitting at his desk, watching him.
"Liara," he said, "I was just going to…"
Liara looked at him, sympathy clear in her gaze, and he realized that someone had obviously contacted her when they heard the fireworks explode in the room down the hall. He sighed, a bit weary, thinking that he was neither going to be able to put the argument behind him nor was he going to get any work done, and faced his friend in resignation.
"Kaidan," she opened, speaking softly, searching his face, "Garrus told me you might need to talk."
Ah, so it was Vakarian he had to thank. Although the way he felt right now, he wasn't sure gratitude was the primary emotion. Still, the asari had been nothing but a good friend to him over the years and they had grown even closer in those days between diversion and return to Earth, both commiserating over their potential loss while refusing to leave hope behind. He owed her a chance. Maybe she could help him get his head back in order so that he could somehow face Shepard, Round Two.
"Liara," he said on a sigh, "I hurt her. I didn't mean to, but she's hurt and pissed and I'm not sure how to fix it."
Liara reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm, telegraphing her sympathy with the set of her body, even if he didn't read it plainly in her face. "You didn't hurt her, Kaidan. You did what you thought was best – we all did – and she will see that, eventually. I think, if I know her at all, she's more angry at herself right now than at you. Perhaps you're too close to her to see that?"
Her words struck a chord within Kaidan and he felt foolish for not seeing the heart of the matter. Shepard was acting true to form. He had just been too blind, and yes, even angry to see it. He sighed again, thinking that perhaps he should take the shotgun to himself instead. Better plan.
"You're right," he told Liara, "and I didn't see it."
She smiled a bit at him then, in a gentle voice, she added, "The one thing that hurt the most to watch during this horrific war even amongst all its atrocities was her reaction every time she had to say goodbye to a friend. She'd stand at the memorial wall, do her duty as captain and say a few words, then add their name to the list and dismiss us. That was for show. More than once, I'd see her standing there later, stoic and still, but with this look…" Liara let out a painful sigh at the memory, "… she looked like she had been punched, like thinking about the dead was a physical pain to her."
Kaidan knew that was an apt description. He had his own memories of Shepard at the memorial wall, immediately after he had rejoined the Normandy.
He was settling in to Starboard Obs, unpacking the very few belongings he had brought with him - nothing more than a few changes of clothes and simple toiletries really, and the bottle of Peruvian whiskey he intended to open with Shepard if he could convince her to sit down and relax. Still, he tried his best to make the space his. He was glad to be back on the Normandy, glad to be fighting the important fight again, glad to be with her… This room was such an upgrade from his sleeping pod and small workstation aboard the original Normandy it was ridiculous. But the fact that she had designated it for him, wanted him to be comfortable, he thought was a good sign that things may be headed where he wanted them to go.
He was lost in those thoughts still when he heard the announcement. A female voice; its electronic tones signified its nature as the shipboard VI, but strangely, did nothing to mask the sexy feminine smokiness of its sound; called out "all hands not on duty report to Deck 3 Elevator." He shook his head, wondering how many more surprises this new Normandy would have in store for him and rushed to comply with the order.
When he opened the door and walked down the hall, he saw Shepard was already there, standing at parade rest, a piece of silver metal in her hands. He knew, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, what this was. He had heard about the assassin, Thane Krios', death immediately following the failed coup, had even tried to question Shepard about it in decon after their talk in the airlock.
He had noted, even while talking to her about the aftermath of the crew and hoping she would accept his request to rejoin her crew, that she had been more emotional than usual. She was pale and if he looked closely, he could see tears dried on her cheeks and the slight redness in her eyes. In retrospect, perhaps he had waited until later to confront her, maybe messaged her and arranged to meet, but he didn't realize until he saw her and he had been committed at that point. When he tried to question her in decon, she had just shrugged him off.
Now, he saw, she was going to memorialize another lost friend, and she was going to do it in typical Shepard fashion – with the strength of character her crew expected. He loved her more than he could ever say.
The group had filled out now, as many as would be able to attend, and with a simple quiet grace that defined her every movement, he watched as she spoke about the sacrifice Thane had made. He cast his eyes down for a moment, lost in his own sorrow. He had liked and respected the drell, considered him a good man, and had spent many hours during his hospital visit in quiet talks with him. It had taken until the third talk to know that Thane had been part of her Cerberus crew – caution was a characteristic that Thane embodied – but once their common association was known, Shepard had often been part of their discussions. Neither man had shared anything personal, rather just war stories between two men that had served under Commander Shepard, but it had been a source of solace to him. He was grateful that he had known the man.
When he glanced up again, he realized that the ceremony had finished while he was lost in his own thoughts, the crew had dispersed. Shepard still stood there, a solitary figure testifying to the grief of the moment. He knew she was deep in thought as well, but did not doubt for a second that she was aware of his presence. She reached out to trace Krios' name, now memorialized on the wall that held Jenkins and Pressly and Ash… his heart broke for her in that moment.
She spoke quietly, almost inaudibly, but it startled him nonetheless. He hadn't expected it. He had intended to turn and walk away when she did.
"I asked him to watch over you," she told him, "I knew I could trust him."
It was such a simple statement, he thought, just a repetition of fact. But he heard everything she said beneath it. "I was scared, couldn't protect you myself, couldn't watch you die. Thane was a good man, someone I let inside, trusted. I knew he would watch over you as well as I would if I could be there. I miss him."
He knew in that moment that his love for her had never abated, not even with her death, and he knew, perhaps more importantly, that her love for him was also still alive and well. This wasn't their time, though, that would come. He looked again at the newest name on the wall -Thane Krios, immortal now in their memories - and in a voice as soft as hers had been, he said, "Thank you." He was speaking to both of them.
Kaidan realized Liara was watching him closely, carefully, waiting for a response to her words. "Every death was a new wound, a new scar, to her," he agreed softly. He knew now what the argument earlier had said without actually saying it – the latest deaths were a scar Shepard was afraid would never fade, that she would bear, not with pride or acceptance like she did the rest, but with sorrow and shame. He wondered if he would be able to make her see, once again, that those scars didn't mar her to him, rather made her all the more beautiful. He would do his damndest to try.
He hugged Liara, thanking her without words for being his friend, and turned to walk back down the hall.