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“Mr. Alenko, why do you keep coming?” she asked him after their usual forty five minutes of silence. Kaidan lifted his head and looked at her with obvious confusion written on his face. She was surprised because she had always believed he was too deep in his own thoughts to actually hear her.
“I was told that it was mandatory,” he replied after few minutes and the fact that he answered at all shocked her even more.
“It is, of course. But you won’t get your clearance just for attendance, you know?” she reminded him softly with small smile lifting the corners of her lips up slightly. This was good day. This was really good day.
Except that it wasn't and the silence fell again on her cozy office. Just when she thought she lured him out of his shell finally, it was over. Too soon. Kaidan looked toward the window and his gaze unfocused as dozens of times before. She wondered what he was seeing there, where he was looking, but he never answered the question when she had asked before, so she didn’t ask now. It felt pointless.
“Is it the only reason why you are here?” she asked few minutes later in a low voice not to startle him.
Kaidan looked directly into her green eyes and shook his head. It was almost scaring, like if the person you watched on your TV screen looked at you and you knew she was really seeing you.
“No,” he vocalized his answer with small delay.
She sensed the subtle shift in his mood and kept from asking more, not pushing, because she felt that it was coming on its own, that he really wanted to tell her.
Silent sound let both of them know that the time reserved for their session was over. Kaidan checked the clock on the wall, nodded his head slightly for himself and stood up from his chair. If she wasn’t a professional she would course out loud. She stood up and with few fast steps she came closer to him.
“Mr. Alenko…” her voice sounded almost as a plea. And she was pleading because this was important. This was really important, time was not.
“I don’t want to be alone,” Kaidan whispered distantly and with these words he was out of the door.
She couldn't help it and watched after him even if he was gone.
“Well, after five sessions it’s a start,” she smiled weakly in the end. It was first step to full recovery and she was optimistic about her patient. She opened her omni-tool and made few notes for their next sessions before she headed to the kitchen for a cup of tea. She deserved it.
Except there was no next session, because Kaidan never showed up again.
* * *
Kaidan was sitting on the unmade bed in the tiny bedroom of the tiny flat that Alliance assigned to him because he didn’t have any apartment here in the Citadel. It was temporary solution, just until the therapist would put the necessary “fit for duty” stamp on his files and he would be send to some space trip again.
He was so angry.
And sad.
Devastated even.
Mostly devastated.
It was five weeks since the Normandy went down, it was five weeks since Shepard…
Kaidan’s breath got caught in his throat. It was always like this. Every single thought about Shepard was enough to throw him right over the verge. No warnings, one moment he was fine and next second he was not. Kaidan couldn’t breathe. He instinctively put his hands around his neck to protect it from the invisible hand that was choking him but it didn’t help. He touched his lips and he felt his own breath on his fingers but at the same time his lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen and the edges of his vision started turning black. He couldn’t breathe.
Please! Just... please...
He wasn’t even sure for what he was begging. Air? Help? End of pain? End of … him? All he could think about was his inability to breathe. He tried to suck the air in but there was none. He heard the thundering of his blood in his temples and his heart beat so strong in his chest that he got the ridiculous idea that his ribcage could be broken from inside out. He couldn’t breathe and it hurt him, it hurt him so much…
Was it like this for John when he got spaced?
He felt on his knees and turned on his back, spread on the floor, trying to catch and hold on something and he still couldn’t breathe and his body refused to give in and he felt so lost and broken and … alone. He couldn’t breathe.
* * *
When he came around later, he wasn't sure where he was or what he was doing there. It was confusing little bit, but it felt nice, almost soothing. Time didn’t make any sense anymore. He could be lying there an hour or a day or week and he probably wouldn’t know the difference. He felt some wetness under his head and everything came back to him with speed of light. Or Mass relay stream. When Kaidan touched his cheek it was already dry. He was obviously breathing and living and he didn't know if he was happy about that. He felt exhausted and he was cold and thirsty. He wanted to go to bathroom and wash his face and drink water directly from the tap but at the same time he didn’t want to do anything from that at all. He was empty. Like a shell. Old, empty seashell, whispering stories about things that were long time ago.
He simply moved to the bed and fell into uneasy sleep full of nightmares and fears and he didn’t wake up even if he wished to.
* * *
When he received a message from Joker asking him to meet and possibly talk, he deleted it without reply. In the next three weeks he ignored four more.
* * *
One morning Kaidan woke up to the loud repeating sound. He was still confused from the nightmare he was broken free from and it took him some time to realize that somebody was knocking on his door, not firing at him. When he finally got up from bed, it was quiet again. He gave only small thought to his lack of self-preservation instinct when he didn't jump out of bed and didn't cover behind it.
Did it even matter? It wasn't shooting anyway.
He decided not to go to check the door and went to the bathroom instead. He splash some water on his face, brushed his teeth and ignored his hair that he was so proud about. Once. In another life. In somebody else's life. He avoided the look in the mirror. He didn’t care what he could see there. Or maybe he knew.
He glanced a look at the clock in his only other room. It was so early, so damn early. Now what? He just wished to sleep through the rest of his day and the next one and the next… He simply wished to sleep through rest of his life. But it wasn’t working on its own anymore and there wasn’t any alcohol he could use to sedate himself nicely. So he sat on the uncomfortable sofa and watched the empty white wall in front of him for an hour. Maybe two. Or more.
He needed to go out.
Fuck.
* * *
Kaidan stubbornly refused to dress in Alliance blues so he put on the only other clothes he had and headed out. His walk was unsteady but not from drunkenness. He hadn’t been eating properly for weeks now and lack of physical activity didn’t help either. But he refused to stay here and... He simply wanted to be somewhere else for change. But when he opened front door, limp body fell at his feet and he didn't care about leaving the apartment anymore.
“Joker!” Kaidan exclaimed with horror but then he noticed the man was moving, just slowly as he always did. “Was it you knocking on my door in the morning? Are you sitting here whole time?” he asked and helped the pilot to his feet carefully. Joker was like a porcelain doll. Except he wasn't handsome, just fragile. It was strange thing to care for something again. Like Kaidan had forgot his apathy from before completely.
“Uh… Kaidan… Yeah, I thought you weren’t home so… I …” he scratched his neck nervously, “I decided to wait.”
“I slept,” Kaidan explained curtly, refusing to apologize.
“Sorry,” Joker offered and then a really uncomfortable silence spread between them.
Kaidan was just staring at Joker.
You sure do have what to be sorry for. I loved him.
“I really want to talk with you, Kaidan. May I… May we come in?” Joker tried it once again.
Kaidan didn’t want to talk with this man. Not ever. But his body moved on its own and he let Joker in. He closed the door behind them and went to couch. He sat down, not inviting Joker over. Not speaking.
Joker sighed and limped to the sofa and sat as far from Kaidan as possible. He wasn’t afraid. Well, maybe a little. Damn, he was freaking out about this. And Kaidan’s non-existing reaction to his presence wasn’t making it easier.
“Kaidan…” he started. He was training this. Every single day he tried to tell him, to explain, to say how sorry he felt... He had his speech prepared and trained. And now he wasn’t able to deliver it.
Kaidan observed Joker’s struggle. He didn’t feel any urge to help him. He was so disconnected from his caring self he even wasn’t bothered by that. Joker, his friend, came to apologize and Kaidan wasn’t able to reach out and let him to ease his pain, and maybe, just maybe, Kaidan's too.
“I am sorry,” Joker said silently and when Kaidan didn’t react in long minutes that followed, he stood up and saw himself off the flat.
Kaidan didn’t move. He stared on the wall, seeing nothing. He didn't notice when he started to cry.
* * *
Two days later Joker received a message.
Joker,
I am sorry for the day before yesterday. I didn’t mean to be cruel, not really. I just… I wasn’t ready for that, you know? I don’t think I’ll ever be. But I want you to know that I'm not angry with you.
I remember you were avoiding me during the group therapy first week, probably out of fear I would beat you. Smart thing to do. I probably would. I really would. And I'm glad I didn't. It took me time to realize that we all had done that we had to do. I was evacuating because John told me to and I am always following orders, right? You were the captain sinking with his ship. It was terrible idea and I believe you know it now as well, but well… you followed your instincts as I followed my orders. And Shepard… John… He was a hero. He always was. Saving the day. Saving us all. It had to be like that, Joker. And if I avoided you lately, it was because I wasn’t prepared to admit that he was really gone. So, don’t blame yourself.
I don’t blame you.
Kaidan
* * *
Truth was that Kaidan blamed him. Oh, God, how he hated Joker for being himself and staying in the fucking cockpit of that fucking ship on that fucking day. But if this was the last thing – well, almost the last – that he would do, he could at least try to fix one broken soul before he would go. Because that was who he really was.
Integrity.
Duty.
Care.
He just decided he didn’t want to be who he was without Shepard.