Work Text:
Being on board the Normandy again was almost akin to a spiritual experience.
Kaidan was glad to be back. It wasn’t the old ship, but the layout was similar enough that he wasn't completely lost. There hadn’t been much time for exploration on the way to Mars. He exited the elevator and made his way onto the crew deck. Saw the memorial wall and paused, heart in his throat.
He walked up to it, somber. Touched Ashley Williams and vowed to do something with this life Shepard had given him. Kaidan was alive because she was dead. He didn’t let that torment him anymore, but he’d be damned if he ever forgot it.
“Kaidan.” Garrus stepped up beside him, acknowledging him with a tilt of his head. “Welcome back.”
He clasped hands with the turian. “It’s good to be back.”
“Glad I didn’t have to shoot you. Shepard would have sulked for weeks. There would have been no living with him.”
Kaidan grinned. “Wouldn’t wanna be responsible for one of our illustrious Commander’s ‘moods.’”
“I have to admit, for a while there, I wasn’t sure about you," Garrus hummed. "Things have been rocky between you two.”
“Neither was I,” Kaidan murmured. He chewed on his lip. “Look, Garrus. I…”
“Relax. I’m not judging you. The more friendly guns I have on my side, the better. I was never sure if our Cerberus ‘allies' were gonna follow Shepard’s orders, or shoot him.”
Kaidan frowned. “If you didn’t trust them, why did you stay?”
“Somebody had to look out for Shepard. Poor bastard had enough problems without having to expect a knife in the back from the people who ‘saved’ him.” Garrus paused for a long moment, watching Kaidan with those piercing eyes. “Look, it is good to have you here and all, but there’s something I need to know.”
“I’m listening.”
“Do I still need to expect a shot in the back, or can I count on you to watch his?”
It was a fair question. Kaidan sighed. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure about Shepard for a long time. I didn’t know what Cerberus had done to change him. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m here for the long haul.”
Garrus watched him for another long moment. What he saw must have reassured him because he nodded, clapping Kaidan on the back. “I’m gonna tell you a story about something that happened while we were with Cerberus. The Alliance managed to track down the wreckage of the Normandy.”
Kaidan’s heart clenched. “I was out on assignment at the time. I was notified, I just...couldn’t get away.”
“Admiral Hackett forwarded us the location. Shepard went down alone. Wouldn’t let any of us come with him. He was out there by himself for most of the day, picking through the wreckage. Came back with a bunch of dog tags he dug out of the snow.”
The thought of Shepard wandering a graveyard of ghosts with no one at his back…of having to face that alone, was unbearable.
“I don’t think he slept for a week. He was at his terminal every chance he got, typing out correspondence to the families of the crew members he lost. All twenty of them.”
“My God.” Kaidan threaded a hand through his hair. “Shepard…”
Garrus watched him knowingly. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, but maybe think about that next time you’re questioning his motives. He might have a few new parts on the inside, but he’s still the guy I told C-Sec to fuck off for.”
Kaidan struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat. “I don’t regret turning my back on Cerberus, but I shouldn’t have turned my back on him. Maybe I…I don’t know, Garrus. Everything got so messed up, so fast, and I…I don’t know.”
Garrus sighed. “Look, I get it. The Illusive Man was shady; we always knew that. I understand why you were wary and why things went down the way they did. But Shepard didn’t ask to be saddled with Cerberus. They actually paid people to help Liara recover his body from the Shadow Broker. He was gonna sell it to the Collectors, and they just had to beat them to the punch.”
Kaidan had read Shepard’s report detailing what went down in the Omega 4 Relay. His resurrection. The work he'd done for Cerberus. It was all but proven that the Collectors had gone after the original Normandy solely to capture or kill Shepard. His body hadn’t even been cold before they'd started circling like vultures, waiting to sink their claws into him.
To hear that from the horse’s mouth, so to speak—to know for sure that people were fighting over his corpse, was…horrifying.
Garrus was still talking. “Is it so wrong that Shepard used them back? Took the resources they freely offered to save lives while the Council dragged their feet?”
Kaidan told Shepard once that he would never understand why he and the others worked with Cerberus, but sitting here now, with one of Shepard’s closest friends, someone who’d stood beside him, not for Cerberus’s sake, but because he'd asked him to?
It made sense.
Even knowing what he did now, Kaidan couldn’t have joined up with them. He couldn’t put his convictions on hold, not even for Shepard. But maybe—just maybe—he could understand. Try to look back and see it for what it was. Shepard, doing what he’d always done—what was right. No matter the cost.
There were so many what-ifs surrounding Shepard’s miraculous return, but at the time, Kaidan had felt too blindsided to care. He’d seen the only thing he’d been capable of seeing—an imposter, wearing the face of a man he would have died for. A man he'd loved. At best, he was a victim, manipulated by Cerberus to do their bidding. At worst? A puppet, without a will of its own.
Regardless of what Kaidan felt for Shepard on a personal level, he'd deserved better. He’d deserved the benefit of the doubt.
If the reports were accurate, Shepard woke up in a Cerberus lab without a friend in the world. He woke up alone, gunfire ringing around him, with strangers trying to kill him and no one at his back. That was awful. It was a crime what they’d done to him. A gift beyond measure, yes. They’d achieved the impossible. Brought Shepard back to life. But good God, at what cost?
Garrus placed a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder. “Just…don’t hurt him, okay? He was insufferable after Horizon. I don’t wanna see him mope again, it’s pathetic. Also, I’ll have to shoot you, and that’s just gonna get messy for everyone.”
“Did…” Kaidan stared. “…are you giving me a shovel talk right now?”
“If that’s ‘human’ for ‘hang my friend out to dry again and I’ll kill you,’ then yes. Yes, I am.”
Kaidan blinked. Then he nodded. “That’s fair.”
They shook on it.
Garrus turned him toward the elevator and gave him a shove. “Shepard’s up in his cabin. Go talk to him. And, for the love of whatever Gods you believe in, if you’re not gonna offer, get him laid by someone else. He’s starting to twitch.”
Shepard’s quarters were…opulent, for a military vessel.
He had a desk, a sitting area. A king-sized bed. Dozens of those model ships he liked to fiddle with were displayed on the wall. Fish tanks lined the left side, which even had fish swimming about. Brightly colored, and Kaidan couldn’t name a single one.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” Kaidan whistled, making his way hesitantly down the steps leading to the sitting area. Shepard sat cross-legged on the couch. Though he’d called out a greeting and instructed EDI to let him enter, he still looked surprised to see Kaidan standing there. He smiled.
“Thanks. I like the view.” Shepard gestured up toward the skylight with a tilt of his chin. “Except when I don’t.”
At first, Kaidan didn’t understand. He frowned at Shepard, puzzled. Then he noticed what the commander was staring at, deceptively unassuming, sitting there on the coffee table. An N7 helmet, tattered and worn. It had seen some action and looked damaged beyond reasonable repair.
Then, he got it.
His heart broke.
“Oh, Shepard,” Kaidan breathed. “I didn’t even think. I’m so sorry.”
“Neither did Cerberus.” Shepard shrugged, favoring Kaidan with a sad little smile. “Don’t be. It's not your fault I got spaced.”
“Why would you keep this?” he questioned, aghast, pointing at the helmet. “Doesn’t it remind you, too?”
Shepard scoffed. He reached forward and snatched the offending object with rough, jerky movements. Stared at it a moment before slamming it back down with disgust.
“Honestly, I can’t believe it’s even intact. I was just a lump of flesh when they found me.” Shepard’s voice was grim. “How many ethical rule books did they have to burn to bring back what was already dead?”
“Shepard…” Kaidan's feet moved almost of their own accord. He sat beside him on the couch.
It was a wonder the man was still sane. He’d been through so much.
“It felt wrong to leave her there. The Normandy.” Shepard continued to stare. “She’s just scrap metal now, but maybe I never left either. Maybe I’m just as much a ghost as that derelict on Alchera.”
The words hit Kaidan like a slap in the face.
'You're in the presence of a legend...'
'...and a ghost.'
His own words on Horizon. Had Shepard internalized them all this time?
“Don’t say that.” The vehemence in his own voice took Kaidan aback. “That’s not true!”
Shepard blinked. “It is true. If no one had interfered, I’d still be there. Whatever was left of me, anyway.”
“They did interfere.” Kaidan grasped his shoulder. “They did bring you back. And it’s the best gift Cerberus ever gave humanity. The only one.”
“Is it?” Shepard questioned in that gentle way of his. ‘I’m right, and you should listen to me, because I’m Commander Shepard.’ "Would things really have been so different, if I’d just stayed dead?”
The man could sweet-talk a rattlesnake into letting their prey walk free. He’d talked down murderers, zealots. Crazy, indoctrinated Spectres bent on destroying the galaxy. But that wasn’t happening, not here. Not this time.
“You don’t get to do that.” Kaidan’s voice trembled. “You don’t know what you meant to those people out there. What you meant to me.”
Shepard's eyes were clear and earnest, his face raw. “Kaidan…”
"They had to pull me from active duty for months. Thought they'd Cat 6 me." Kaidan sprang up from the couch, pacing a line in front of Shepard. “I couldn’t handle the guilt. Couldn’t get through a single God damned day without wishing it’d been me.”
“I went through the same thing after Akuze,” Shepard murmured. “Survivor's—"
“—guilt. I know.” Kaidan scoffed humorlessly. “It was too cruel. The world wouldn’t miss me, but you? You were more than our leader—you were everything.”
Shepard frowned. “Hey. It’s okay. Don’t—"
“No, let me finish.” He held up a shaking hand. “Please, I need to get this out.”
Shepard grabbed his hand and tugged. Kaidan went willingly. He dropped down heavily beside him, swallowing hard.
“You were the glue that held us together. You were the sun, and without you, everyone lost their way.”
“I did have to save you all from yourselves, fresh out of the petri dish, didn’t I?” The words were filled with good humor; quiet, somber, but there was real weight there. A sobriety in Shepard’s eyes that was painful to see.
“That’s an understatement. Everyone went nuts without you.” Kaidan laughed, a bit hysterically. “Liara runs a spy network. Wrex is in charge. Garrus joined a gang.”
Shepard chuckled. “Started a gang, but don't call it that in front of him.”
“And I almost got taken out by Collectors before I even shot one.”
Shepard huffed. “Did you shoot one?”
"No," Kaidan glared. They stared at each other for a beat. Two.
Then they both burst out laughing like a couple of drunken schoolboys, holding on to each other.
It wasn’t even funny, but it felt so good to laugh with Shepard again. To touch him and know he was there, against all odds. When both men finally managed to catch their breath, they were left leaning against each other, gasping for breath. Shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.
Shepard rested his cheek on top of Kaidan’s head, contrite.
“I didn’t mean to dismiss your grief like that. I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, if a little confused. Clearly, he understood now that his death had hurt people, not just from a logistical standpoint, but a personal one, and it seemed to puzzle him. It might have been endearing if it wasn’t so upsetting.
Kaidan was glad he and Shepard weren’t looking at each other. His eyes burned.
“It really was like losing a limb.” His voice cracked. “I’d reach out beside me, and you weren’t there.”
“Kaidan…” Shepard draped an arm over his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
They were silent for another minute or two. Shepard trailed his fingers absently down Kaidan’s arm.
“Where I come from, you looked out for yourself. There wasn’t much room for anything else. Mom was busy on patrol or on duty. And, after I enlisted, well…I’ve never been anything but a soldier. We're trained to be…”
“Expendable,” Kaidan whispered. Shepard.
He wasn’t saying these things to be self-deprecating or to garner sympathy. This was life as John Shepard knew it, and he was sharing that with Kaidan. Opening up to him. It meant more to him than he could say.
“We're your family, John.” It slipped out before he even thought of how it sounded. It felt good. Right. “We care about you.”
“Not just Commander Shepard, huh?’” He said it with a suitable amount of levity, but Kaidan could sense that the answer was important to him.
“Not just him.” Kaidan cuffed him on the shoulder. “All of you.”
The N7 helmet was still sitting in front of them on the coffee table. Shepard leaned forward, elbows on his knees, picking at a seam. An anxious tick Kaidan had never seen before. He wasn’t letting him off the hook.
“You didn’t answer my question.” Kaidan’s eyes drilled into the side of Shepard’s head. “Why do you still have that?”
John—he was John now—paused for a long moment.
“I don’t know, Kaidan. One look at it sends me back there, sometimes, and I…I don’t know.” His fingers had ceased their anxious movements, although he had yet to remove his hand. His palm rested motionless atop the helmet. His eyes were hollow.
“What you’ve been through…nobody should ever have to bear it alone. I’m here for you, anything you need. And…if you ever wanted to talk about it... “
“Thanks. I might…take you up on that sometime.” It was worth noting that John only tightened his grip on Kaidan’s hand. Still, he sat gazing into that awful helmet, transfixed.
“I’ll go toss that out an airlock right now. Just say the word.” Kaidan fought to curb this ridiculous animosity he felt toward an inanimate object. It was a helmet, not a Reaper. But what it represented…the loss. The pain.
He wanted it gone. But that wasn’t his call.
Kaidan’s levity broke the spell, forced or not. John chuckled. He glanced at Kaidan. Seemed to contemplate something.
There was a question in John’s gaze that he didn’t want Kaidan to see. He wouldn’t meet his eyes. And he had one arm wrapped around his middle, a move that screamed of self-comfort, and set off every compassionate bone in Kaidan’s body.
All at once, he understood, and his heart broke for the second time that day.
“Do you...want a hug?” Kaidan asked, gently. Earnest, in case he was wrong.
“Uh.” Shepard paused, eyes darting over to his face before wandering away. He peered over again, but this time, he didn’t look away. He squared his shoulders, the way he always did when he expected a fight. “Maybe. If you…want to.”
If Kaidan hadn’t been a seasoned warrior, a veteran, for God's sake, his face would have crumpled.
Oh, he was in Trouble. Trouble, with a capital ‘T.’
“Unless that’s weird.” John was back to avoiding his eyes. “It's probably weird. Forget I—oof.”
Kaidan couldn’t get his arms around him fast enough.
“I…” he began, tucking his chin over John’s shoulder. “…love hugs.”
“Oh.” Shepard remained stiff for another moment before melting into the embrace. “Okay then.”
This man could have as many hugs as he wanted from now until the end of time if Kaidan had anything to say about it.
If John tightened his arms around Kaidan’s waist and wouldn’t let go for another ten minutes, he didn’t say anything. And, if his eyes looked red, and his voice sounded rough, well, anyone who had something to say about it could kindly get fucked.