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Kaidan knew it as soon as he woke up. Death had a way of making the very air seem stagnant; it lent a certain heaviness that seemed to permeate everything.
He looked over to his side and his heart sank when he noticed Shepard was already up. His hand touched her side of the bed; it was ice cold. With a heavy sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. He forewent putting on a shirt and instead made a beeline straight for downstairs.
It was far too quiet in the house. Too still. He stepped towards the living room, heart clenching in dread. At the threshold into the room he paused, looking out towards the other end of the room.
And there was Shepard, sitting on the couch, bent over and holding something in her hands. Faintly, Kaidan could hear her crying. Her shoulders, hunched over, shook in her grief that she was desperately trying to mute.
Though he already knew what happened, he looked over at the hamster cage that was perched proudly on its own mantle. The large, glass habitat was empty, its usual furry occupant gone.
“Shepard.” Kaidan hurried over towards her, bending down in front of her when he reached her.
As he suspected, clutched in her hands was Captain, her old hamster. The once vibrant rodent laid still in her hands. Shepard’s finger trailed over the top of his head and back, the fur long since smoothed over from the repeated movement.
“He passed away a few hours ago,” she said, still not looking at Kaidan.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured as he cupped her hands in his, though he was careful not to disturb Captain. “I’m so sorry. Have you been down here all night?”
She sniffled, closing her bloodshot eyes as a few tears leaked out. “Since about one or so. I couldn’t sleep. With him not acting like himself the past few days… I guess I just knew. And I didn’t want him to be alone when he…”
He had suspected as much, too, but it didn’t soften the blow. Although Captain was “just” a hamster, he knew how much Shepard loved – had loved the little guy, and how rough the next few weeks were going to be.
Kaidan moved so that he was sitting next to her. He pulled her into his arms, noticing how cold she felt but deciding not to say anything about it for now. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated, knowing he could say it a thousand times and still it wouldn’t be enough. “I know you loved the heck out of him, and I’m sure he loved you in his own way. He led quite a life, for a little hamster.”
She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, teeth clenched in an attempt to fight another onslaught of tears. “I’m not… I’m not overreacting, am I?”
“No,” he said without hesitation. “He’s been with you through a lot.”
From what she told him, she’d gotten him shortly after she “joined” Cerberus after hearing having pets was not against Cerberus regulations. And the little ball of fur had been with her ever since: through the heartbreak that was Horizon, the stress of the suicide mission, the pain of her incarceration, and the near soul-crushing ordeal that was the Reaper War. He never let her down.
She let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know what to do, but I’m not gonna throw him out.”
“We can bury him in the yard,” Kaidan suggested, perching his chin on top of her head. “Make a little grave for him. Would you like that?”
He felt her nod against his neck. “In a minute?”
“Of course.” His heart broke a little more at the way her voice cracked, wishing more than anything that he could ease her grief. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
--
Shoveling in the middle the Canadian winter was never an easy task, but Kaidan went through it without complaint. Barely an hour later, Captain’s grave was covered, with a few rocks and stones they had found arranged over it in the shape of the Alliance logo.
Kaidan leaned the shovel against a nearby tree, wiping his brow as he stood back.
Shepard took his hand in hers, giving it a squeeze in gratitude. Seeing the grave really drove it home that Captain was gone, that she’d never see him again. But she refused to cry again, at least right now. She knew how much it tore Kaidan up to see her upset, and she also didn’t want to spend the whole day a teary wreck.
“To the finest captain the Normandy SR-2 ever knew,” he said. “Not too many rodents can say they helped charge into the Collector base and help take on the Reapers.”
“And helped the CO smile.” Because there had been countless times when Shepard had needed it, and when her emotions got to be too much, but didn’t want her crew to see it. That’s when he’d been there, giving support without a word or complaint. “I’m gonna miss him.”
“I’ll miss him, too,” he murmured, shifting over to wrap an arm around Shepard’s shoulders. “Even if he was my rival for your affection.”
The memories that stirred up managed to get Shepard to crack a smile, which she suspected was Kaidan’s plan. “He certainly gave you a run for your money.”
“Well, it’s a little tough when your competition is a little fluffy thing that doesn’t talk back and squeaks really cute.”
“Yeah.” He made the sweetest little sounds. Noises that she would never hear again. She squeezed her eyes shut, still refusing to cry again. “It’s going to be so weird to not see him in the mornings.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s going to take some adjusting. But you know what?”
“Hm?”
“I bet you he’s found his way to Ash and Anderson and Thane and Mordin. He’s probably got a nice little set up already.”
Shepard never knew what to think when it came to the afterlife. She remembered nothing from her stint being dead, though that didn’t necessarily mean she hadn’t gone somewhere. But it was a comforting thought, and one she desperately needed. Mordin always was fond of Captain, and even Thane liked the little guy. At the very least, they’d know him and would take care of him until she got there, wherever they were.
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
“Me too.” He kissed the side of her head. “Come on, let’s get inside where it’s warm. If you’re ready,” he added quickly, not wanting to rush her.
Fortunately Shepard understood and nodded in agreement. There was no point in mourning him out in the cold, and they’d been out there long enough. As they began to turn and head inside, she glanced over her shoulder at the newly dug grave, and gave one last goodbye:
I’ll see you across the sea, my little Captain.