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Kaidan held up his head.
He propped his forearm under the limp skull, maybe, maybe if he angled it right the way, the wet noise in Shepard’s throat would cease; that they could sit in silence and Kaidan can pretend the drips on Shepard’s cheeks was from rain. Of course it was raining, thunder cracked under his fingertips as Shepard’s torn throat gave a sick wheeze.
A lung had to be punctured, he shifted his armored elbow from his wet chest, ignoring the fluid, and could feel fresh tears when Shepard gave him a hacked cough in response.
Kaidan knew he sounded the same, he could smell copper and iron, taste it when he licked his upper lip in frustration, felt it between his fingertips when he clutched his hip after the blow tore through his barrier. Shepard had been right, he would press his mouth against his shoulder and tell him how he was the vanguard of his own destruction.
Not the best dirty talk, but it was desperate. The night back then tasted of desperation, of please don’t be fake, please don’t leave me, don’t take him away from me, on both their parts.
Kaidan feels Shepard’s hand, bloody and torn, he’s missing three of his fingers and Kaidan wants to sob-
Shepard cups the cut into his hairline, weak, broken, pitiful and Kaidan sucks in air. The air burns, it doesn’t burn sweetly, the heat reminds him he’s alive. Kaidan wants to squeeze his eyes shut, he remembers how Shepard’s blue eyes widened in fear when Kaidan fell to his knees,
how he, in a brilliant display of blues and purples, showed why biotics are feared, how he proved the old human saying a light that burns twice as bright burns half as long right in those few short moments. Kaidan’s seen angry, he’s joked with Shepard about plotting revenge behind a pair of thick eyebrows, and he remembers the short snort Shepard gave him and the dazzling smile and the smile bleeds into pain and Kaidan can’t keep his eyes open.
“Hey,” Shepard croaks, the missing fingers pulse sluggishly on his cheek. They drag from his cheek to his shoulder, Shepard is losing blood too quickly. Kaidan doesn’t know where the rest of them are, he knows the rest made it out alive. The battlefield tastes like ash, Shepard had Kaidan in his lap one day, thick arms around his waist and his chin dug into his shoulder, told him how burning wood is his favorite scent.
“Keep your eyes open, love.” Shepard’s blue eyes are hazy, one has blood smeared in it, red and bloodshot. The other one is filled with pain, Shepard tries to focus on Kaidan’s chin (he used to press his thumb on the dip, pull him in for a kiss in public during a stressful day), on the pulsing wound on his forehead that dipped to his nose and into his hair, on the thick eyebrows scrunched up in pain. Kaidan is slow to open them, he’s slow to roll them under his eyelids and blink away tears.
His bottom lip bobs, Shepard can’t feel his other arm to wrap around his neck and pull him down.
“John, I,” he has the same pained tone that he gave Shepard in London. Shepard told him he wanted to retire, he’s tired of fighting and losing others, but he’s still a Spectre. “John, please, I,” Kaidan tries again, blood pools in his mouth and his head is spinning, but he curls more around the man in his lap.
Shepard watches, trying to scoot himself up to wrap himself around the sobbing man. He nearly succeeds, head slumped on Kaidan’s drooped and ripped up shoulder. Kaidan drops his head on Shepard’s shoulder, the plate is torn and gone.
Kaidan presses kisses to his matted neck, Shepard digs his fingers into Kaidan’s hair. It’s smoothed down, sticky, Shepard rubs circles in areas where something had grabbed his husband by the hair and yanked, leaving a patchy bald spot. Kaidan forces out a hitched breath, it's warm against his ringing ears.
“Shepard- John, I love you,” he sobs into his ear, blood spills from his lips when John slings his useless arm around his waist, “I’ve never been happier and, I’ve always wanted to do so much, oh god, but I’m happy spending my final moments,” Shepard interrupts him with a nasty coughing fit, “with you, I’m glad to have known you, John.”
Shepard mumbles in his ear, more wet spills on Kaidan’s exposed shoulder.
“I love you too, Kaidan Alenko.” Shepard painfully cranes his neck to kiss him, desperation and Kaidan pulls back, presses his forehead to Shepard’s when Shepard slips. Begs him not to leave him now, because no one should die alone.
Shepard’s dead weight on his chest in seconds, Kaidan tucks him underneath his chin, smells the aftershave and the shitty military pine Shepard insisted smelt good, and thinks he’s home.
Kaidan can’t open his eyes a second time.
(Garrus stumbles, Liara’s much better with hopping rock to rock. He can hear the desperation in her voice, shouts of Find Them! makes Garrus believe he never wants to hear her scream again. There’s something shrill in Hacketts voice when he shouts them over, it bleeds into dread, low and throaty and Garrus feels both of his hearts drop to his feet. It’d be peaceful if Liara and Tali weren’t sobbing together, almost as if they caught them sleeping curled in the AI core again, Shepard so neatly tucked under Kaidan’s chin, limp in each other's hands. Hackett ordered them both, Wrex had Shepard and Garrus was tasked them Alenko, Garrus felt a twinge of guilt in tearing apart the lovers even after their final moments.)