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It was a milestone neither of them had thought they'd be celebrating, but here Faith Shepard-Alenko was, more in love than ever with her husband.
Kaidan Alenko had aged gracefully over the years, his hair still as thick but dusted in grey. His body was no longer strong, but his soulful eyes remained the same. Full of warmth and kindness, and his voice? It still gave her the same chills it did the first time they made love.
She was dressed in a blue dress, long grey hair tied back in a braid and sitting patiently waiting to see him. One of her blue eyes had gone milky, a side effect of the cybernetics finally beginning to fail, but she wasn't angry.
Shepard had died before she was thirty years old; anything after that was a bonus. And she'd experienced over a hundred more years thanks to Cerberus.
Over a hundred years to love the most incredible and patient man in the galaxy. And what a ride it had been. From getting married to raising their daughter, life had been good to them, and so full of joy and love.
Until the last few years, when the L2 implant began to deteriorate. Kaidan had been lucky to be migraine-free since they'd reactivated the Reapers; the signal repairing whatever damage had occurred had also helped him. Shepard couldn't help but wonder if Ashley Williams had a hand in that when she sacrificed herself to prevent Leviathan from finishing what the Reapers started.
The change in him had been subtle, as, despite the chronic pain, he had never once complained, never once used it as an excuse to operate at less than one hundred and ten per cent.
It felt like a reset button had been set the night the galaxy had truly been freed from the menaces lurking in the darkness. Their daughter knew peace, and Shepard knew what it was to be content; to be free.
Kaidan’s decline hadn't been swift, and at first, it had barely been noticeable. Forgetful moments, which could be attributed to stress, items being misplaced when they'd been in the same place for many years.
Then the worst thing happened, he'd woken up one morning and asked who she was. Shepard had her concerns about him, but he had always shrugged them off. However, the first time he stared at her blankly killed her just as much as the day he'd turned his back on her on Horizon.
She had immediately booked him an appointment with Doctor Chloe Michel, the only person either of them entrusted with his care, and she had run a litany of tests. Kaidan had reassured them that he was fine and that everyone had moments like that.
Chloe had insisted she would be the judge of that.
Then, a few days later, she had summoned them to her office on the Citadel, where she was Head of Neurology at Heutra Memorial. As Shepard and Kaidan sat side by side, they watched in real time as her gaze faltered and her expression grew far more sympathetic.
She explained that the implant, although functional, was beginning to deteriorate. She reminded them that no other L2S had lived as long as Kaidan, and so they couldn’t have been prepared for the ill effects of having the technology within him. Kaidan hadn't even blinked when told the prognosis; while Shepard was mentally counting down how long it would take to consult Miranda Lawson, who knew a thing or two about pulling off impossible feats.
Chloe further explained that the way it was eroding was mimicking the effects of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy. It was neurodegenerative, and there was nothing that could cure it. His implant couldn't be removed, and to do so would cause death.
Kaidan had taken Shepard’s hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it ever so gently. Her wedding ring had flared brightly; a sign his biotics were reacting to her own. The blue pulses dancing across the dark metal were a reminder of how deeply entwined they were. He had made a vow, not unlike the day they had married, that they would find a way to get through this. Trying to be strong for him, Shepard had smiled and reminded him they'd been through worse.
Outwardly, she had seemed calm, but she was withering inside at the prospect of losing him so soon.
That was seven years ago, and at first his condition was manageable. He stumbled a little and had issues gripping his eating utensils, and as frustrated as he got, she was always by his side to help him. When his mind got foggy, Shepard could bring him back immediately with just a kiss or a memory, but eventually the bad times outweighed the good, and there were days when he would look at her like a stranger.
It crushed her heart to see the love of her life, the father of her child, dissolve before her very eyes. Shepard had decided she could no longer cope alone with how mentally and physically draining it was, so she had hired help.
EDI, having lost her beloved Jeff only a few years before due to his own medical condition, had told Shepard she would love to move in with them and help take care of Kaidan.
Her body was strong, and she had access to billions of medical journals, as well as methods that could help ease the symptoms of dementia. She was also the only one who could withstand whatever Kaidan threw at her, and sometimes his biotics could be unpredictable.
Even Shepard, as strong as she was, had always been unable to outmatch Kaidan when it came to his abilities.
After the war, EDI had decided to embrace humanity fully, and Miranda had helped design her synthetic skin so she once again looked human. It was an aspect that helped, as Kaidan could get easily confused, and seeing EDI in her true form would have freaked him out.
“Here we are, Kaidan.”
Upon hearing the woman's voice, Shepard stood up from behind the large oak wood table with a soft smile.
EDI was leading Kaidan in, supporting his weight with her superior strength, and he was dressed in a deep blue shirt and black pants. His hair was styled just the way he always wore it, and he stood tall despite his fragility.
Whiskey coloured eyes were darting around the room, wide, cautious and curious. His eyes stopped on her, but there was no familiarity or smile; instead, he scowled and then looked back at EDI.
Shepard had gotten used to the somewhat vacant expression, so much so that it no longer hurt her the way it used to. She reminded herself that he couldn’t help it, so she offered a gentle smile and smoothed down the dress.
“Good afternoon, Kaidan,” she said brightly.
He was swaying a little, his condition mildly affecting his cognitive functions, but he didn't falter. Kaidan looked the former brunette up and down, then around the room.
Needing him closer to home and unable to bear the thought of putting him in some sort of medical facility, Shepard had adapted the entire ground floor of their home on Vancouver Island to suit all of his needs.
The dining room was now his bedroom, where he lacked for no comfort or equipment. He had access to real paper-back books and a terminal full to the brim with movies. His bed faced the Pacific Ocean so that he could see the sea before and after he woke up. Shepard had an extension built with a walk-in wet room, so Kaidan could get showered
Their living area was still the same, but she had removed all the family photos that once adorned the walls. Instead, they had been moved to the hallway, and the time spent together was displayed on the stairwell.
A fishtank flooded the far side of the wall, wall to ceiling, a late wedding gift from Kaidan as he knew Shepard had an affinity for fish after her time on the SR-2. Her oldest acquisition was a large crustacean from Thessia, a multicoloured spectacle who preferred to remain at the bottom. She was beautiful and had lived in the tank since day one.
Kaidan had witnessed Shepard break down over the loss of her eel onboard the Normandy, and had found her emotional and upset. When he had walked in on her grieving, she had felt ridiculous for getting upset over something so small. He hadn’t judged her and silently cleaned up her wounded hand as she had bunched at the glass housing her models in her anger.
That was one of the many things she loved about her husband; no matter how bullshit crazy she had gotten, he had always loved her through it, and although he was physically still here, she missed the man who had made her hot chocolate or teased her about the way she snorted when she laughed.
It had been so long since she had genuinely laughed; there had been a few moments last Christmas when their daughter and her husband visited. But the ghost of what once was had lingered over them.
Seeing her father decline had been difficult, and she visited him less and less. Shepard couldn’t blame her.
Some days, she wanted to flee and act like he was completely gone. Then she came to her senses and realised that not only had she made a promise to him the day they reunited at Apollo’s, but that Kaidan would never have given up on her.
They were still a team, even if he didn’t remember.
Kaidan frowned deeply as he tried to comprehend the woman standing before him, the table laid out so nicely with flowers and a lovely meal prepared. He looked at EDI with uncertainty. The woman always explained who she was, and she had a trustworthy face. “Do I know her?”
One of the qualities EDI had was that she was ever so patient, and her smile was soft. “You do,” she said, guiding him over to a large armchair. She helped him sit down, pushing him in with surprisingly gentleness despite her inhuman strength. Once he was comforted, she straightened up and looked directly at Shepard. “I will go check on dinner.”
It wasn’t just Kaidan that EDI looked after; she constantly ensured that Shepard had everything she needed and that she was looking after her own mental and physical well-being.
The evening was surprisingly warm, so Shepard had opened the doors that led out onto the patio, and she could hear the seagulls calling out to one another as they soared above the slowly setting sun. Kaidan put both hands on the table, shaking a little and then offering her a grimace as he tried to get comfortable. The birds calling to one another distracted him, and he spotted the reds sprawling across the sky like ink on a page. He finally smiled, and he was still so devastatingly handsome when he did that.
“Beautiful view,” he remarked.
Shepard didn’t bother looking at the early evening sky; sunset was about an hour away, and she didn’t want to miss a moment of looking at him. His voice was a lot weaker these days, but still rough and warm like honey being drizzled over steaming hot pancakes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “It is.”
Kaidan looked back at her with a polite smile. Out of everything that hurt, it was the smile that pained her the most. Mainly because it wasn’t his smile, not anymore. It was a smile he used to give strangers when he was uncomfortable and trying to be friendly. It was nothing like the secret smirks he used to throw at her or the one that melted her right before he would lean in and capture her lips with his.
“I feel like we’ve met before,” he finally said after what seemed like forever.
Shepard forced herself to smile, not because of his comment, but because the same questions or remarks never got any easier to handle. Some days she was in the mood to recollect everything to him, and other days she would sit with him in silence as he dozed or lost himself in old Blasto movies.
“We have,” she whispered, absently playing with her fork. EDI was whipping up a special meal for them both, even if Kaidan wasn’t in a position to truly appreciate it.
His frown deepened as he glanced down at the hand fiddling with the fork, catching the subtle glow being emitted from the ring on her finger. Kaidan visibly relaxed a little more, even if he couldn’t fully understand why. “Your ring is pretty, unusual, but pretty.”
The fork was dropped, and Shepard withdrew her hand and pulled it into her lap. Kaidan had the rings designed especially for them. The jeweller had been a friend of the Alenko family, and he had used their biotics as inspiration, choosing the metal of a meteorite that had fallen to Earth, which flared subtly with their hidden abilities. Whenever she and Kaidan made contact with one another, the glow was ethereal and a constant reminder of their bond.
“Thank you,” she uttered, trying not to feel so self-conscious. She was 133 years old after all, she should have been beyond such gestures.
Kaidan smiled a little more easily, and as he did, caught sight of his own hand; a ring, a little chunkier but similar in design, was on his left hand. Gripping the wrist, he stilled it and then studied the item with scrutiny. His glow was a lot fainter these days, but still there. Inhaling deeply, he alternated his dark gaze between the ring and her and back again. The wheels of his mind begin to move.
“Remind me of who you are?” Kaidan asked.
Shepard looked up slowly, tucking a strand of silver behind her ear. “Shepard. Commander Shepard. We worked together.”
It clearly wasn’t the response he was expecting; he looked back down at his hands, surprised at how old they were. “The same Shepard from Akuze?”
A sharp intake of breath was emitted from her. It may have been over a century ago, but Akuze always flagged up unwarranted images of the hell that had been unleashed upon her and her unit. “Yes,” she offered.
His shoulders sagged even more, obviously relaxing in the notion that he was sitting with a member of the Alliance Navy. “I remember…you lost your whole team…you…” Kaidan paused, eyes searching hers, but then he looked away, eyes drawn to the sky. “What happened to me?”
Some days, Shepard would regale the tale of how they worked together, aspects of their life together, but never the romantic entanglements. Trying to summarise their love story was far too painful, and she was already in Hell.
Every day, she would repeat the process, hoping to witness the tiniest glimpse of the man she adored. The person who had changed her outlook on life just by being himself. Shepard hadn’t anticipated falling for anyone, let alone her lieutenant, and she had willingly thrown caution to the wind to experience love. They had spent years dancing around one another, and there had been a lot of heartache on both sides, but the wait had been more than worth it.
She also informed him of the implant, causing massive lapses in his memory.
“Even when they put the implant in, they did say there could be side effects,” Kaidan murmured, shaking his head in dismay, his strength increasing, and he was no longer slouched in his seat. He was looking at his hands, amazed at how aged they were. “I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.”
Shepard knew that every other L2 was dead, and none of them had lived as long as Kaidan. Most had succumbed to their fate in their 50s and 60s, so Kaidan had fought the odds in more ways than one.
EDI brought in their meal, steak sandwiches with Canadian lager and whiskey. Shepard thanked her gratefully and then grabbed her plate, moving to sit beside him and cutting the meat into the tiniest chunks for him. Kaidan watched her in silence as she continued to tell him various stories, and she steadied his hand when he went to pop a piece into his mouth.
He chewed slowly, almost choking once or twice. Usually, they kept his palette simple, blended foods, but Shepard had wanted so desperately for him to experience one nice meal, as it was such an important day.
When he reached for the glass of whiskey, her hands closed over his and helped him sip. Kaidan closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of the amber liquid flowing down his throat, and he breathed deeply.
“I’ve had this whiskey before,” he whispered, eyes still closed.
Shepard glanced at the blue bottle of ™-88 whiskey. It was the same brand she had brought him as a gift when she visited him in the hospital after the horrific incident on Mars. While she waited patiently to see him, she had wanted to get him something that said “sorry you had your head bashed in”, but she didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard. During their shore leave together, she had noticed he had an affinity for the stuff, and once she had read it had great medicinal properties; it was a no-brainer.
Slowly, she looked back at him, hands holding the glass so tightly she feared it would crack.
“Yeah,” she stuttered. “You’ve had it a few times.”
Kaidan lowered his hands, and she guided the glass back down to the table. She went to move, but his grip was tight, steady and firm. His ring flared brightly, a sign that his biotics were surging, and usually that was an indication he was upset or angry. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she raised her eyes to meet his.
For the first time in a long time, he truly saw her.
“Faith…” he whispered.
A strangled cry was torn from her throat as her heart all but stopped.
The confusion and emptiness were gone. Kaidan was present, his eyes clear and bright and full of love.
“Kaidan,” she managed to utter, trying not to let herself hope only to be crushed.
These glimpses of her husband were things she lived for.
Kaidan frowned, his face crumpling as he looked at their surroundings and realised how much time had passed.
“Oh God,” he murmured. “Faith…” A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I remember…”
As if hit by a tsunami, he recalled everything. Shepard walked into the coffee shop where he worked. Meeting her on the Normandy SR1, making love for the first time, followed by shoreleave, her death and her return two years later. He remembered the good times and the not-so-good times; he remembered they had a child and that they had married.
Lazy mornings, arguments, making up after. Sitting together and watching the sunset, the way her eyes sparkled like sapphires when she looked up at him. He remembered they had a life together.
All of it returned in an instant. He also remembered the words Chloe Michel had told him the day she gave him the fateful news.
“How long?” he asked, his heart uncertain as to whether he wanted to know the answer.
Shepard wanted to sob her heart out, but despite not having been a soldier for so long, she still felt the need to protect him. Tears were falling freely, tracing her gaunt cheeks as she shook her head. “Seven years,” she whispered.
Kaidan’s hands were a lot steadier now, but he couldn’t hide the dismay on his face. “Seven years,” he repeated in dismay.
All she could do was nod.
“Oh, Faith,” he said, his voice breaking as he could now see how tired his wife was. “Sweetheart, I'm so sorry.”
Shepard was shaking her head violently as he had nothing to apologise for. “You’re here now,” she reminded him, leaning in and grasping his face between her hands. She kissed him softly, then peppered the kisses on every single inch of his skin. Using the strength he didn’t realise he still possessed, he pushed his chair back and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight to him.
Her smaller frame shook as he breathed her in. Fingers ran through his hair, stroking the nape of his neck where the damage implant that had robbed their twilight years together lay. I missed you so much, Kaidan.”
Kaidan grimaced when she said that, kissing her clothed shoulder, and then he finally got a good look at the table. There were only two places, and he eased back as she sat upon his lap as she had when they were younger.
“Where’s Ra Ra?” he asked.
A strangled laugh escaped her lips. “Working. She’s good, though; she and Matt are good.” A beat. “She doesn’t visit as much; it’s been difficult for her.”
His smile faltered a little, but he was trying not to dwell on it. He looked at the bottle of whiskey, then back. “Is…is this a special occasion?”
“Only one hundred years since we finally made it down the aisle,” Shepard reminded him, a wry smirk on her lips. “No big deal.”
His response was a half-laugh, half sob. “One hundred years,” he repeated, his voice barely a whisper as he gazed upon her.
“Hard to believe,” Shepard said, more tears falling. "Huh?"
Kaidan brought a now trembling hand up to her cheek, cradling it as tenderly as he could despite the subtle tremors. He had no idea what his wife had endured in his absence, but he could see that she had stayed, and it must have taken its toll. When Chloe first set out what they could expect, he had told her to just lock him away and get on with her life; she had told him to go fuck himself.
He had locked himself in the bathroom, wanting to scream about being so cruelly ripped from his family. Faith Shepard-Alenko had always been the strongest person he had ever known, and it had killed him to think that she would be forced to watch him decline before her very eyes.
“I love you, Faith,” he whispered, his smile as soft as the first time he had said it.
It was a statement that spanned decades; an entire lifetime, and he was right, a century of loving him wasn’t enough.
Shepard smiled, the tears drying up a little as she didn’t want to spend what little time of lucidity with him crying. “I love you too.”
Leaning in, she placed a gentle kiss upon his lips and then stabbed his fork into a piece of steak before offering it to him.
“Happy anniversary, Baby,” she said.
With a grin, reminding her of the boyish soldier he had once been, Kaidan took the proffered meat and chewed happily.
****
Unable to finish the meal, Shepard had helped him to stand and guided him over to the patio, where EDI had set up a large airbed and covered it with a blanket. There were a few pillows for comfort, but his gaze was fixated on the horizon as the sun had all but dipped beneath the horizon.
Kaidan breathed in a lungful of ocean air, the smile on his face easy. “Hell of a view,” he murmured.
Shepard walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, clasping them against his stomach. She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his shoulder blade, recalling how she had done this thousands of times over the years. “The best,” she agreed, desperately holding onto him and this moment.
Looking up, Kaidan could see the oranges giving way to the dark, and it seemed like the night would be clear, perfect for stargazing. He stumbled a little; what little energy he had left seemed to be dwindling fast.
Recognising his unsteadiness, she quickly coaxed him over to the blanket and, with a loud crack from both her knees, she helped him lie down, fluffing the pillow behind his head. Kaidan was smiling at her the entire time, and then gestured for her to cuddle into him.
There was no hesitation as she still fit by his side as perfectly as the first time they slept together. Shepard rested her head on his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart, one that still beat for her even if sometimes it forgot the rhythm. Her eyes were closed tightly, holding onto this one perfect moment as she knew it wouldn’t last forever. Kaidan began stroking her hair tenderly, and it took her all not to break down.
This was the longest moment of clarity Kaidan had experienced in years, and she feared each time that he wouldn’t find his way back to her.
“I’m sorry, Faith,” he finally said.
Opening her eyes, she tilted her head a little to find him staring down at her. “You don’t need to apologise,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry for forgetting,” Kaidan apologised. “For keeping you waiting.”
Another strangled laugh bubbled up as she recalled her words to him on the eve of that final push for the beam. Shepard had told him that she would wait for him and that he had better show up. He had been patient and loving, even when she temporarily didn’t remember him.
“Kaidan…” she began.
“You kept showing up, even when I didn’t even remember your name,” he said, a tear rolling down his cheek.
All the grief she had spent years repressing finally slipped through the delicate cracks of her heart, and when she laughed again, it was broken. “Oh, Kaidan,” she said, shaking her head slowly.
Kaidan grimaced again, genuinely believing that he had failed her when the circumstances of his “absence” were far beyond his control. He felt like the years lost to his decline were somehow his fault. She reached across his stomach for his hand, squeezing it hard so that he could feel it; hard enough to know that this moment was real.
“Nu uh,” she finally said, desperately trying not to cry. Her trembling voice betrayed her. “You don’t get to apologise, not for that crap.”
“But…” he began to say.
Shepard sat up, albeit slowly, and made him look at her by releasing his hand and turning his head with her fingertips. She glanced at her ring and noticed that, despite being in contact with him, the little flickers of dark energy were weak. It was a sign that she was losing him again, and she refused to spend what little time they still had together fighting or placing blame.
“You came back to me, Kaidan,” Shepard said, her voice firm even though she looked at him with a heartfelt expression. “You are and always were worth the wait.”
Although her husband seemed sceptical, the frown disappeared, and he offered her a warm smile. Moved, she leaned in and kissed his forehead with a tenderness no one would have anticipated from a woman as formidable as Shepard. Once the deadliest soldier in the Alliance, she had learned to be gentle thanks to the incredible man beside her.
Kaidan had shown her that love wasn’t weakness; in fact, it became one of her biggest strengths.
“I love you.”
She smiled sadly. “I love you too. You dork.”
The familiar endearment made his heart soar, and he swallowed hard. Her words seemed to settle something deep within him, like some sort of eternal wound healing. The guilt that had plagued him began to ease away. He closed his eyes momentarily, and when he finally opened them, he was crying too.
“A hundred years, huh?”
Shepard pursed her lips together, and all she could manage was a pathetic nod.
Kaidan laughed, but it was weak; still, he looked as handsome as the day she first laid eyes upon him. Shepard tried not to seem so concerned, moving her hand down to his wrist and stroking it. Discreetly, she pressed her fingers against his pulse point, and it was so slow. She looked back up at his face.
“I guess I got my credits worth then.”
The unexpected comment made her choke out a laugh, and she moved her hand back up to stroke his cheek. Shepard couldn’t speak, couldn’t find any kind of sarcastic comment to parry his. Kaidan could see the worry on her face; his gaze softened as his lids grew heavier, but those pools of honey were fixed on her. Always on her.
“I love you, Faith,” he repeated. “Through everything, I’m still the luckiest man in the galaxy.”
Her vision was blurring through tears, and she leaned in, resting her forehead against his just as she had a million times before. She placed kiss after kiss against his temples, then finally reached his lips.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she said with each kiss, then it turned into something simple, lingering, and she felt like her heart was going to explode from all the emotion.
“Lie down,” Kaidan whispered against them. She drew back to search his eyes one last time; he was struggling to keep them open. His smile was small but peaceful. Shepard did as requested and frowned hard as she listened to his heartbeat once more. His breaths were growing shallower, and she fought to keep her composure.
She wanted to beg and plead with him not to leave her, but she couldn’t be so selfish. They’d had a perfect evening together, exchanging stories and affirming vows of love. Shepard turned her head a little, glancing at him, then up at the stars which now glistened against the darkened sky.
“Still beautiful,” Kaidan breathed.
Shepard snorted softly. “Me or the stars?”
“Both,” he said with a slight gasp.
“Smooth, Alenko,” she said, grateful that he couldn’t see her pained expression or that more tears were falling onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Always, Shepard,” he remarked.
His heartbeat was the slowest she’d ever heard it. It was something she had fallen asleep to countless times in her century, and she simply wasn’t ready for it to stop. Shepard stifled the sobs, desperate not to let him see how broken she was.
“I missed this.”
Shepard found it within her to smile as Kaidan stroked her hair, using whatever dwindling strength he had left to bring her comfort. “Me too,” she whispered.
His hands may not have been as strong as they once were, but his touch was familiar, soothing, and it was home.
“You know, I always used to think the best day of my life was marrying you,” Kaidan said, pausing as he gathered what little strength remained. Shepard lifted her head, looking at him, but his eyes were locked onto the stars above. “I was wrong…it was every single day after that.”
Her smile was sad, and more tears rolled down her cheeks.
“One hundred years,” he said, not quite believing the accomplishment.
“It wasn’t long enough,” Shepard finally murmured, voice cracking ever so slightly.
Kaidan finally looked back at her; the effort it took to turn his head was evident, but he smiled. “No, it wasn’t,” he agreed. “But even if I had a thousand years…” He reached for her hand, thumb brushing the precious metal of her ring finger. “It’d choose you every single time.”
Those words stole the last of her resolve, and she buried her face into his chest, tears completely soaking through the fabric. Gritting her teeth, she tried so hard not to cry. “I’d choose you too,” she cried.
He held her despite being weak, his strength waning with each passing second.
“I’ll be waiting, Faith,” he promised.
Shepard looked back up despite her anguish to find his eyes had drifted closed. Her heart clenched, and she only relaxed when they opened again, and immediately they fixed on her, just as they always had. "I'd better show up then."
He gave one last chuckle, but it was obviously an effort for him to even move. His hand stopped stroking and went limp beside her as he couldn't hold it up anymore.
“I love you,” Kaidan rasped, his smile soft and his eyes fluttered closed once more. “Always.”
His chest rose once, then it fell. Shepard frowned as she pursed her lips together, then rested her cheek against the damp fabric. She could hear his faint heartbeat. Closing her eyes tightly, she counted.
One. Two. Three slow beats.
Then…nothing. Only silence; deafening and loud.
Lifting her head only a little, she looked at the hand she held tightly and spotted the last flicker of blue from his ring die out like a star. Her chest heaved once more, but she made no sound; only the waves crashing against the rocks below could be heard.
Shepard could have called out for EDI, demanded to begin compressions and bring him back to her, but Kaidan deserved peace. She lay her head back down despite the absence of his heart, listening to the void as she stared up at the stairs that still dared to shine; the galaxy that they had explored together seemed so incredibly small.
She tried not to think about how their daughter would react when she told her the news, tried not to think about everything she would lose because she knew Kaidan Alenko would keep his promise. She knew he would be waiting for her, waiting for what he had once called his greatest challenge and his greatest reward.
For over a hundred years, they had both survived impossible odds, but in the end, they hadn’t needed another miracle.
Just one moment. One last perfect moment.
A brilliant star streaked across the night sky; the same one that had passed them by on the night they married a century ago. Faith Shepard-Alenko shifted so she was sitting up, smiling through her tears as she raised his hand to her lips. As she placed a tender kiss upon it, she looked up at the serene expression of the man she loved. Someone who had managed to really see her and loved her despite all her flaws.
“I love you,” she whispered to him, holding his hand against her cheek. “Always.”