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A thunderous crash rips through the air, tearing Kaidan from deep sleep and spitting him out into reality. He sits straight up, his hand fumbling beside him to find the bed cool and empty, but he retains a memory of Shepard shuffling out of the room sometime prior - could've been hours, could've been minutes - while Kaidan lay quiet with his eyes closed and his breaths even; Shepard hated being watched when he struggled out of bed in the mornings.
Heart in his throat, Kaidan scrambles sleepily into the hallway and trips over the blankets that have knotted around his ankles. Shaking them loose, he rubs his face and squints down towards the kitchen, where the bright morning light glares helpfully in through the window and straight into his eyes.
"What the hell...?"
As he walks closer, hand over his face with his fingers pried open enough to see, he notices plates and cutlery strewn across the floor. The table is split in two, the cupboard doors are all ajar or hanging off their hinges, and the chairs are upturned. He finds Shepard in the far corner, clinging to the counter, shaking and breathing hard.
"Shit, you okay?" Kaidan steps closer, but Shepard holds up a hand to halt him.
Shepard's knuckles whiten around the edge of the counter, his cane is nowhere to be seen.
"Did you just...?"
"Yeah." Shepard clutches his head with his spare hand, though this makes him sway all the harder and nearly lose his grip on the counter.
Kaidan reaches out to steady him, but Shepard shrugs him off and then stills. A trickle of blood, bright red, streams from his nose. He blinks in surprise as he tastes it on his lips, slowly bringing the hand that had been holding him upright up to touch, and staring at the red smear it left on his fingertips.
Kaidan watches him begin to lose his balance and ignores Shepard's grunt of protest to grab his shoulders and lean him back against the counter.
"Shit," Shepard mutters, wiping the blood on his trousers. He all but drags himself to the sink and grabs a fistful of kitchen roll to stem the bleeding.
"Shepard," Kaidan says, meeting the man's eyes.
"Don't give me that look." Shepard looks away.
"How do you expect me to look?" Kaidan cradles the man's head in his hands, forcing him to return his gaze to him. "I'm allowed to worry about you."
"Yes," Shepard relents. "But you're not allowed to fuss."
"And I... I wasn't there, was I? The last time you... died."
Shepard sighs. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Kaidan's, his hand sliding around the back of his neck. "I'm sorry."
Kaidan shuts his eyes too and just breathes, sharing this moment for time indeterminable.
Finally, too soon, Shepard lets go and kisses Kaidan's lips. "I'm going to have to tell Chakwas about this, aren't I?"
"Yeah," Kaidan murmurs with an almost-smile. "She won't be happy."
"If this leg wasn't so slow," he mutters, punching his right leg as if it had fallen asleep.
"Charging head-first into the kitchen table isn't going to help, you know."
"At least I arrived in the kitchen sometime this century." Shepard's brows draw together as he reaches over to pick up a fragment of crockery. "But I broke my favourite mug."
"You only like that one because it had a chip. I'm sure you've chipped plenty more, if any of them are still in one piece."
"True," Shepard sighs and tosses the fragment aside. "I'm not even in the mood for coffee anymore. A nosebleed woke me up." He pries the kitchen paper from his nose with a wince. "I think it's stopped."
Kaidan inspects him and then nods. "Yeah. And your blood pressure has probably suffered enough for one day. I'll make you breakfast instead. Why don't you go and lie down for a bit?"
"I can make my own breakfast," Shepard grumbles. "And I don't need to go back to bed."
"Come on, I promise I'll never bring you anything ever again. Just let me do it today. Just this once."
Folding his arms as the colour returns to his cheeks, Shepard narrows his eyes. "Fine. Just this once. One day."
"One day," Kaidan repeats and watches Shepard push himself away from the counter and head for the door. In the hallway, Kaidan hears him find his cane and reluctantly pick it back up.
By the time he returns to the bedroom with a plate of eggs and fried mushrooms on toast, Shepard is fast asleep.
Kaidan calls the physiotherapist, cancels the appointment. He calls Chakwas. As predicted, she isn't happy. She offers to come over, but he says, "Later. Please. Shepard's asleep. He doesn't sleep well at night."
After Chakwas agrees, he sits alone at the desk to eat his breakfast and catches up on a few messages, including one from his mother, and he smiles as he reads. But when his plate is empty and his inbox read, he glances over at Shepard and sees his legs twitch, hands balled tight into the sheets. He sets the datapad down.
Crawling under the blankets, he settles behind Shepard and lays his head on the pillow, sliding an arm around his waist. He closes his eyes and inhales the scent at the nape of his neck, finally free of the stale undertones of the hospital.
Shepard's twitching stutters and ends, his shoulders relax as he releases his fists. Kaidan kisses the sweaty skin where his shirt wrinkles away from his shoulder, breathes deep, and rests.