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When his eyes opened, he almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How many times had he wished he could be here, in this very position, when he’d thought it was impossible? How often had he scolded himself for not truly appreciating what he’d had before it was taken away? Best not to answer. He’d promised himself that he’d savor the moment, relish everything about it, just for one more chance. Just once.
Somehow, against all odds, he found himself here. Heavy eyelids lifted to reveal the most beautiful thing he could envision, even now. Sure, he had traveled the galaxy, traversed distant planets, gotten lost among the stars. Even English Bay at sunset couldn’t match what was right in front of him, unaware and peaceful. Had it not been for the dull throbbing in the back of his head, he might have assumed that he was dreaming. He had, after all, done it so many times before.
She used to have a scar just above her lip, he remembered. It wasn’t there any longer. That tiny missing detail was one of the many reasons that he’d been slow to trust her when she’d reappeared in his life. Time had a way of skewing memories, he’d realized, and while he was terrified of forgetting her face, he could easily recall the look of the scars. He’d grown so fond of the small things others barely noticed that when he couldn’t see them any longer, he questioned if she was the woman she claimed to be, the one he wanted her to be so badly that it hurt.
He’d never been able to put that into words, now that he thought about it. Claiming that she couldn’t really be Shepard because he knew all of her scars better than he knew his own would have been scandalous amidst the wrong crowd, not to mention bizarre. She might have understood, but he could never bring himself to admit it aloud. He’d spent a long time trying to remember those little physical aspects because thinking about her personality, her determination, her rarely-seen shyness, and her overwhelming love was too painful. Those marks made her physical. Real. But Kaidan appreciated Shepard for more than her physical appearance. She was the unshakable but compassionate woman who shouldered more responsibility than she ever should have. She was the kind, feisty, warrior with a knack for charismatic displays among all races. She was that unattainable, adventurous dreamgirl he’d always wanted. Always.
It had taken longer than anyone might have anticipated to acknowledge the many reasons he’d loved her, and even without him realizing, it had happened all over again. She no longer had the scar above her lip, but she had accumulated a fair number of new ones in her second chance at life. He’d begun to love those, too.
His amber gaze drifted to her shoulder, where a small triangular burn mark was just barely visible in the gentle blue glow of the aquarium lighting. She’d obtained that one while on Omega, she’d told him, while in a battle with a gun ship. A subtle smile crept across his lips as he recalled her saying that she’d come out of it in much better shape than Garrus had.
There was another burn on her hand. He couldn’t see it at the moment, curled under her pillow the way it was right now, but he knew that it was there. They’d run into thresher maws before, but they’d always had the safety of the Mako to guard them from the corrosive acid. Apparently, in his absence, Shepard had taken a liking to fighting the behemoth monsters on foot where nothing but her standard armor could shield her. At least one time, it hadn’t been enough. She and Grunt went on to tell a rather spectacular tale, while the thresher maw, apparently, did not. The very thought of it was insane.
His eyes shifted, to the long, thin scar down her thigh. That one had been from her assault on the Collectors past the Omega 4 relay. It was still shocking to think that she’d gone all that way, fought to save so many, and escaped with only a white line across her leg as a keepsake. Given what he’d heard at Alliance headquarters when she’d turned herself over to their custody after that mission, however, that ‘little cut’ could easily have killed her had it gone a few millimeters deeper. She’d always played it off as a scratch. Typical.
His gaze moved again to a circular mark on the left side of her chest just below the clavicle. Horizon. She didn’t talk about that one much beyond saying that it had happened just after they’d parted ways that day. Or, more accurately, just after he walked away from her. He found it quite coincidental and telling that it was so close to her heart. The fact that it looked vaguely like a bullet wound didn’t help matters. He tried not to think about what would have happened if she’d been gunned down there just after he’d left her, unwilling to help or protect her. That scar served as a reminder that she was a survivor, though. He intended to stay with her as long as she’d have him, but if they were somehow separated again… in battle or life... she’d keep going. She always did.
Her slow, even breathing signaled that she was sound asleep. It happened rarely enough that he didn’t dare move a muscle for fear of disturbing her rest. The years of hardship fell away when her expression was so relaxed and peaceful, though he found her stunning regardless. He worried, however, as the war stretched on. It was taking a lot out of her and no one seemed to notice but him. Even she managed to brush it off and overlook the signs. His hand rested on her hip, and he could feel that it had lost a little bit of the fullness he’d once known. She retained every bit of muscle, but he could tell that she’d lost some weight. He didn’t mind either way, really, as he was quite sure that he’d love her at any size, but he made a mental note to remind her to eat a little more often. She needed strength, and that was the sort his moral support couldn’t quite provide.
He hoped that this mess wouldn’t last much longer. He hoped that she wouldn’t suffer too many more scars. Love them as he might, he would feel much better if she didn’t sustain any more injuries. She was tough and resilient, but there was only so much a person could take. Even Shepard.
His eyes drifted shut as he listened to her peaceful breathing, reminding him to appreciate the present and avoid worrying about the future. If he’d learned anything from being with Shepard, it was that. Everything could change in a moment. He needed to enjoy what peace and comfort he had now, right in front of him, within arm’s reach. Once upon a time he’d given some serious thought to his future with the woman he loved and it had all been taken away, crushing him in the process. He wasn’t prepared to risk it again. Not yet.
He loved her. She loved him. That was all that was necessary. After the war, once they won and walked away from this entire ordeal, then he’d take all the time in the world to learn about all the scars. The old ones, the new ones, the ones she wore only on her heart and mind. He’d know them all and help them fade.