Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Alliance-run prison currently holding my brother was not an easy place to get to. It had required two days, five shuttles, and half a dozen security screenings to get me through the front door. Not that there even was a front door to the underground facility. I wasn’t precisely certain what country I was in, just that it was bitterly cold in the middle of November. At least this place, unlike others I’d recently found out about, was one the Alliance admitted the existence of.

Once I'd checked in with security, surrendering my omnitool and sidearm in the process, I was scanned in near-microscopic detail before being allowed into the waiting area. I had drawn the line at their insistence on my receiving on a biotic dampener shot. The effects of Omega-Enkaphalin were unpleasant, to say the least, and could cut me off from my abilities for a week or more depending on the dose. However, the bigger issue, to my mind, was being treated more like a weapon than a person due to the circumstances of my birth. The guard had bristled at my refusal, but the warden had ultimately given me the go-ahead.

I was hungry, jet-lagged, and the lighting was wreaking havoc on my eyes. The lenses I usually wore to block out harsh lights were sitting in a bin with the rest of my personal property; a killer migraine wasn’t far in the offing. To say I was in a lousy mood was a colossal understatement.

That I was here at all was not by choice. At least not my choice. I’d promised my mother that I’d resolve the whole Vanya situation, so here I was in the middle of BF Nowhere waiting to confront a ghost.

They’d run every conceivable test to determine his true identity, and every one of them had come back with the same result. The man sitting in a cell, in one of the Alliance’s most secure prison facilities was indeed Ivan Alexei Ialenkov. Not a clone, not a doppelganger, not genetically or surgically altered to look like him, but the same brother I had buried twelve years ago, and whose remains I’d recovered from a burned out building after the Skyllian Blitz. The only things we hadn’t ruled out were alternate realities and time travel, which, honestly, wouldn’t be that much of a stretch given the things I’ve seen. No, somehow my long-dead brother was very much alive, and I needed to know why.

Liam had graciously offered to come with me, but that would have meant postponing his leg surgery yet again. I would much rather have been by my husband’s side, but I was visiting on their terms, not my own.

“General Alenko-Shepard?” A sharp voice shook me out of my thoughts. I was still getting used to both new titles, especially the first one. I lazily returned the salute of the over-starched guard. “We’re ready for you.”

“Thanks, Corporal,” I replied. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

He gave me an odd look, as if not sure how to respond to my more casual demeanour. “Yes, sir.” Dear gods, had I looked like that when I was his rank: ramrod spine, clipped speech, uniform that could likely stand on its own, knife-like salute? The answer was, ‘yes’, though it seems an eternity since I last gave a rat’s furry ass about being a ‘good little soldier.’

I followed the young soldier down a narrow hallway, the cadence of his boots beating in perfect time with the throbbing of my head. He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall, and changed the red haptic interface to green. The doors slid open, a slight metallic grind betraying its age (I could relate), and I entered a small room that could only be described as ‘sterile.’ White from floor to ceiling, low lighting (thank the gods for small mercies), and a wide metal table and chairs that seem to grow out of the floor.

“If there’s anything you need, sir, just press this button,” he gestured toward a display panel on the right-hand wall. “If he gets out of hand, use the panic button you were issued on arrival. A guard will be dispatched presently. I’ll be waiting outside the door. Remember, no physical contact of any sort, that includes biotics. You have 30 minutes from the time the prisoner arrives, no more.”

“Thank you, Corporal...?”

“Symes, sir,” he replied, not relaxing even a millimetre.

“Corporal Symes.” I chanced a request, “Would it be possible for me to have a glass of water and a couple ibuprofen? My head is killing me.”

“Certainly, General. I’ll have someone sent for them immediately.” With that, he turned and left. As the door closed behind me another opened with a hiss on the opposite wall.

Another equally efficient guard ushered in a tall man dressed in red prison garb. Vanya’s head was shaved nearly bald, his cheeks more gaunt than I remembered, and a hint of dark circles under his hazel eyes. A fresh bruise graced the left side of his jaw. The guard locked the energy cuffs to the table as he all but pushed him onto the chair.

Part of me almost felt sorry for him; a much bigger part of me was gloating inwardly, but I had to at least appear professional. I nod at the guard and he leaves, sealing the door behind him.

“What? Not going to tell them ‘the cuffs aren’t necessary,’ little brother?”

“Oh, they absolutely are necessary, Ivan,” I responded flatly. “Otherwise I might be tempted to make you part of the wall.”

He scoffed at that. “Big words, little brother, but we both know that’s an empty threat. You’re not capable of such violence.”

“It’s been fifteen years since we were face-to-face, Lieutenant Ialenkov. You have no idea just what I’m capable of doing. And you can stow the ‘little brother’ crap. You gave up that right twelve years ago when you abandoned your unit, and your family. You chose to join a terrorist organization, while my mother and father mourned and buried a son.”

“I did what I had to do for the sake of humanity,” he said, brushing off my attempt to play the guilt card. “We both know Mom and Dad would never have understood. Better to let them think me dead than a traitor.”

“Bullshit.”

“Maybe. But, unlike you, Kady, at least I wasn’t a constant disappointment.” He was trying his damnedest to get a rise out of me. “Murderer, attempted suicide, and drug addict whore all before your 19^th birthday.” A current rippled across my skin for a brief second. “There you are. Now we can talk. Tell me, little brother, why are you really here?”

I let the blue flash through my eyes as I glared at him. “I’m here because my mother needs to know where her eldest child has been since the Skyllian Blitz. I’m here because the child I just met needs to know why her uncle used her as a pawn. And I’m here because I very much need to know why the brother I idolized as a child turned against his own people to join a group which has committed some of the most heinous atrocities in history all in the name of ‘bettering humanity.’ So tell me, Ivan,” I spat his hated given name back at him, “can you give me the answers, or am I just wasting my time with you, as usual?”

“Brava, Kady,” he said with a cunning smile. “I’d clap, but..” he pulled on the cuffs. “Wasn’t sure you had a set on you.”

“Bigger than yours, I’m sure,” I replied, settling into one of the chairs. “Answers, now.”

“Or what? I’m already in this hole for the foreseeable future. Get me a transfer to somewhere I can see the sun once in a while, and I’ll sing like a canary.” Still cocky as ever.

“That’s not how this works,” I explained. “You see, this place is on the list of prisons the Alliance admits exist. Either you talk now, or I use my more-than-considerable clout to get you transferred to a facility somewhere near the Skyllian Verge, where the sun shines every six standard Earth years, and will burn your skin off when it does.” I looked him dead in the eyes, “You know I can make it happen.” He gulps down a lump in his throat.

The guard on my side chose that exact moment to interrupt with my requested pain meds and water. I knock back the ibuprofen before dismissing the bemused soldier. I set the half-empty glass down and locked eyes with the prisoner once again.

I got the feeling that I was playing a part in his little stage drama. Something about all of this seemed well-rehearsed. Still, if it got me the answers I needed, I was willing to play along.

“You really aren’t fuckin’ with me are you, General.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Fine, I’ll talk. Just remember: you asked.”

My patience was wearing thin and he knew it. “Just get on with it,” I grumbled.

“Bartered my way off Elysium on a volus freighter the morning attack was set for. It’s amazing just how much those four-eyed freaks were willing to pay for Alliance security codes. Set me up nicely on my own private little island on Bekenstein. Put the Illusive Man and his pretty little space station to shame.”

It was taking most of my waning willpower not to reach across the table and strangle him. “We buried a body. I made the ID myself, in the field. Who was it?”

“Not sure. A lot of people died that day. Not as many as we’d hoped though thanks to your freak husband. All my colleague had to do was plant enough cloned DNA on one of the burned out corpses to make identification possible. That is was you making the ID is just icing on the cake for me,” he grinned at me before continuing. “Being anonymous has its benefits, but it did make it more difficult for us to keep tabs on you.”

“What the hell do I have to do with any of your Cerberus bullshit?”

“You think old glowy-eyes Jack Harper was the only one calling the shots?”

“Who?”

“Former Alliance Commander Jack Harper, a.k.a. ‘The Illusive Man.’” he clarified. His over-inflated ego was on a roll now, so I just let him talk – no matter how much I wanted throttle him. “You did know Cerberus was a rogue Alliance black-op, right?” He cocked his head to the side, “Oh, you didn’t? Silly me. Remember your Greek mythology, little brother: Hades’ guard dog had three heads. I’m one of them. They recruited me after my predecessor got an attack of conscience and threatened to go to the authorities.”

“As I recall, Kerberos, was swayed by pretty tunes and sweet treats, and subdued by sheer strength of will.” Yiayia will be happy to know her lessons hadn’t gone unheeded. “I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”

“Oh, my dear, sweet, naive brother, you’ve been on our radar since you were 15. BAaT was the brainchild of one of Cerberus’ founding members. I still think your kind are a bunch of freaks, but you do make fucking amazing living weapons. And lucky you, you set yourself above the others. You’ve been our unwitting lab rat, running a maze of Cerberus’ design for the last two decades.”

I rolled my eyes, “Right. Next you’re going to tell me red sand was a Cerberus invention.”

“Just a happy accident by some basement chemist looking to make himself into a biotic superhero. We did take full advantage of the product though.” Then he shot me a look that made my stomach turn, “Thanks for helping us field test our little experiment five years ago. Our chemists had to rework the formula – can’t have your weapons going supernova just anywhere.”

He was still talking, but my heart was pounding too hard in my ears for me to make out the words.

Five years ago, after the SR-1 went down, we’d held a wake for the dead in a dive bar on Arcturus Station. A few drinks in, someone had brushed against my arm, dosing me with a topical red sand derivative. I’d nearly blown up the bar and everyone in it, my S.O. included. If it hadn’t been for Liara’s barrier, and myself taking a massive risk by channelling the energy back through my body, none of the Normandy’s original crew would be alive today.

“LITTLE EXPERIMENT??? Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood and slammed my hand against the computer interface. “We’re done here!” I yelled through the comms.

“Tsk tsk, little brother,” he chided. “Watch that temper. Wouldn’t want me to break my neck.”

The guards hauled him to his feet and out of the room, leaving me alone and reeling. My stomach threatened to empty it’s contents onto the pristine white floor. My head pounded, either from the migraine or the company, probably both. Couldn’t tell up from down, so I curled into a ball and hoped for the best.

The next thing I recalled was someone helping me to my feet. “Easy, mate,” said a familiar baritone voice, “let’s get you some fresh air.”

Recognition took a moment. “Coats? What the hell are you doing here?”

Chapter Text

The sub-Arctic wind was a slap in the face. I could smell the impending snowstorm. At least my senses seemed to be functioning again, which was unfortunate considering my dress blues weren’t exactly well-insulated.

We were in a small, empty yard where the guards clearly took their breaks in warmer weather. The frozen grass crunched underfoot as Evan led me over to the solitary picnic table where he sat me the wrong way ‘round.

“Sorry ‘bout the cold, mate,” Coats said. He crossed his arms against his chest in a futile attempt at warming up. “I was so concerned about getting you some fresh air, I forgot just how bloody ‘fresh’ it was.”

“It’s not that bad,” I replied.

“I forgot, you lads run a bit hotter than most,” he said with a wink. “We can go back in if you’re feeling better. There’s biscuits and a fresh pot of tea in the break room.” There’s the Evan Coats I remember: kind, caring, and a bit full of himself.

My headache had subsided for the moment and, my high tolerance for the cold notwithstanding, it was fucking frigid out with the windchill. “Ev, I think that’s the most British thing I’ve ever heard you say,” I chuckled. “But it sounds better than sitting out here.” He offered an arm, which I politely declined. “Thanks, but I think I can make it on my own now.”

“I should be the one thanking you, Kaidan. That jag-off hasn’t said word one since he got here; two minutes with you and he’s singing like a goddamn canary. What’s your secret?” he asked, holding the door open for me.

Ah, sweet, sweet warmth.

“He really, really hates me.”

“So this isn’t official business, then.”

“Oh, it’s perfectly official. Alliance command wanted information out of him, and I wanted to know why my dead brother shoved his way back into my life.... Milk and two sugars, please.... Our interests coincided.”

“Heathen,” Coats said under his breath. “Wait a tick. Your brother?”

I took the mug from his hands before he could spill it on me. “Mmhm,” I managed around a mouthful of hot tea. “Long story. Please tell me you recorded all of that. It took me two months and a lot of favours to get that appointment. It better not have been a wasted trip”

“Relax, Kaid, we got every last word,” Coats said. “He must really have it in for you if he’s willing to cop to treason twice over. Makes me wonder if he isn’t playing at something bigger.” A fair point. “I’m surprised it only took two months for you to get in. Usually takes at least four.”

I gave a low grumble. “Oh believe me, I’m keenly aware. Your warden has a giant stick up his ass when it comes to protocol.”

“Actually, the warden’s a pretty lovely guy.” He looked at me slyly. “Smart, good looking, great in the sack... not that you’d know.”

Oh fucking hell. “You’re the warden, aren’t you?”

He keeps a straight face for about five seconds before howling with laughter. “Nahhhh. I’m just in charge of the guards. Really had you going there though. Warden really is a great guy. We’re... close.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course he was. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What? I have a good thing going with him and his wife. Might even settle down this time.” He paused and took a gulp from his own mug. “Speaking of which, heard you and the big man tied the knot. Did my invite get lost in the ether?”

“It was a small, spur of the moment thing less than a week ago. Just kinda happened.” I’m still not used to the minutiae of Shepard’s and my lives being used as news fodder. It’s unsettling.

“Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon, instead of interrogating arseholes in maximum security prisons?”

“Believe me, I’d rather be with Liam than here. But I got the time I got. I’m here, and my husband is in a hospital in Madrid undergoing major surgery, and I desperately want to be there when he wakes up, but judging by the storm clouds out there, I’ll be lucky to make it back to the mainland – wherever that is – let alone off this fucking island--”

“Scotland,” Coats answered, derailing my runaway train of thought.

“What?”

“You were wondering where we were. The closest major landmass is Scotland.”

“Oh.... uh... thanks?”

“Don’t worry, mate, once the weather clears we’ll have you on the first transport out,” he replied to my unasked question. “In the meantime, least we can do is offer you a hot meal and a comfortable room. Let’s get your things from security. I think we can make it back before we get socked in here with nothing but cots and ration bars.”

*****

The high-speed transport to the nearest Alliance outpost still took half an hour over increasingly rough waters. We may have been several feet above the waves, but it was enough to toss the lunch about just the same.

Sleet was falling in wet clumps by the time we made landfall. We were both soaked through in the time it took to make the short walk to the officers’ quarters. Biotic barriers are excellent at stopping mass accelerated projectiles moving at the speed of sound, but they are absolute shit at weather protection.

The quarters in question, however, were not quite what I’d been expecting. The stone building was either centuries-old or an incredible facsimile of one. The lobby had a well-stoked fire going in the hearth. The fixtures on the wall approximated early 20th-century gas lighting. Everything about it, from the wood floors to the exposed-beam ceiling, radiated comfort and warmth. About as far from traditional military barracks as one can get. And I was pretty sure I could smell beef stew.

Coats nudged me in the side with a damp elbow. “Pretty great, innit? The village was abandoned over a century ago when the super flu epidemic swept through the UK. Bio warfare, it turns out.” I give him a side-eyed glance. “Not that biological warfare is good. I just mean that the village was still standing. We needed an outpost and this was all here. Just took a little sprucing up is all. Anyways, let’s get out of these wet clothes and into a nice, warm bed.”

“In your dreams, Ev,” I countered.

“Oh, so very many of them, sunshine,” he replied, “but that’s not what I meant. Gunnery Chief Tunney will show you to your room. You can shower and change into dry clothes. I have to make my report to HQ. Have a feeling they’re going to be very interested in today’s developments. Maybe we can finally mop up this Cerberus nonsense once and for all, eh?”

Only a Brit could call a galaxy-spanning, human supremacist, terrorist organization ‘nonsense’ and get away with it. “Gods willing,” I agreed.

A taller, blonder version of James Vega relieved me of my dripping greatcoat, hanging it on a coat-tree near the fireplace. “This way, General,” he said, and grabbed up my duffle before I could object. I followed him slowly up the wooden staircase, which creaked lightly with the added weight. The whole place reminded me more than a little of the orchard house. If I was going to be stuck somewhere through unpleasant weather, I was glad it felt homey.

The cold, changing weather patterns, and the underlying stress of not being at my husband’s bedside had combined to, once again, kick my looming migraine into high gear. I was more than ready to chuck it all in for the night.

Tunney opened the door and set my bag on the foot of a decently sized double bed, complete with duvet and matching throw pillows. “Shower’s just down the hall, there’s extra towels in the linen closet. Supper’ll be served at 18:30 downstairs – just follow your nose to the dining room,” he said with a jovial smile. “Is there anythin’ else you’ll be needin’ before I go off shift, sir?”

I sat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt at quelling the pain in my head. “Actually, I’m not feeling up to being around other people tonight. Would it be possible to have dinner brought up? And maybe something to help take the edge off the pain.”

“No problem at all, General. I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Thank you, Gunny T--”

“Please don’t say it, sir.” Clearly the man could not wait until he passed officer training.

“Oh,” I said, realizing my mistake. “Apologies, Chief Tunney. G’night.”

“Thank you, sir.” And with that he turned on heel and left me alone with my thoughts.

Those thoughts followed me into a short, but glorious hot shower. They plagued me on the short walk back to my quarters, clad only in a very large bath-sheet. They dogged me as I changed into the sweats I’d left warming on the ancient radiator. I was so wrapped up in them, that I nearly missed the knock on my door.

I reluctantly stood up from the divot I’d created on the edge of the mattress, to give whoever it was a piece of my mind. Instead, I found a tray set on the ground laden with food. There was a generous helping of the stew I’d smelled earlier, along with a large, buttered roll, green beans and a bowl of apple crisp. There was also a mug and a small carafe, presumably of coffee – hopefully something stronger, and a couple of small, white tablets. ‘To take the edge off.’ read the small, handwritten note tucked under the edge of a glass of water. Given my current location, I’d been expecting something more along the lines of a decent single-malt whisky, not generic pain killers. Mental note: be more specific with your requests.

I gathered up the tray and set about eating with it balanced on my lap. I downed the pills in short order, hoping they’d kick in sooner, rather than later. I wanted to talk to Coats again before I turned in for the night, and it would be nice to feel at least partially human.

The stew was nothing to write home about, but it hit the spot, just the same. I was about halfway through mopping up the remains with the roll when I started to feel it. There was a warm tingling starting in my face, working its way downward. The colours on the floral duvet cover were more vivid, the striped wallpaper seemed to move on its own. I set the tray aside so it didn’t fall on the floor when I became light enough to float. I fell back into a calm, peaceful ocean of light...

*****

When I came to, I wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The room was dark, and my head was still swimming. Whatever I’d taken, it was one hell of an amazing high. Sadly, the euphoria was beginning to wear off.

A cursory examination of my situation found that I was very definitely naked under what was definitely not a floral comforter. I rolled over the wrong way, and hit the floor hard.

“Fuck!!”

“Oh good, you’re awake. I think we need to talk, mate.”

Chapter Text

My mind was trying to play catch-up with my body, and both of them were losing.

Floor.

Bedroom.

Naked.

Evan Coats.

Oh dear gods, what have I done?

I reached blindly for the bed covers, and dragged them down on top of me.

“Relax, luv. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.” I mean, he’s not wrong, it’s just a question of how recently he’s seen it.

“Did we...?”

He looked down at me with a glint in his eyes, “Shag?” he grinned. The suspense was killing me, and he knew it. “No, Sunshine, we didn’t. Not for lack of trying on your part. You can sure lay it on thick when you’re snowed.” He quirked an eyebrow at me, “You really don’t remember, do you.”

I’d been trying to prop myself up against any piece of furniture that would have me. The nightstand finally took pity on me. “Last thing I remember is becoming one with my mattress. Everything got trippy, then I woke up here. Without any clothes, I might add. Evan? Why am I naked? And where are my clothes?”

Evan finally accepted that I wasn’t getting up any time soon, and took a seat cross-legged on the floor beside me. He gave me an almost sobering look, “Kaidan, how long have you been using again?”

I could feel the heat rising in face, “Maybe you should ask you staff?” I bit off more harshly than I’d intended. “I asked Tunney for something to take the edge off my migraine. I thought I was taking pain relievers. Five minutes later I was floating in a sea of gaudy flowers and feeling happier than I have in ages. I’d just wanted to get drunk and sleep.” Not exactly a healthy plan, I know. “So, yeah, not ‘using again’.”

“I wasn’t judging, luv.”

“Could you please not call me ‘luv’ while I’m sitting naked in your bedroom?”

“Sorry, mate. Old habits and all that,” he admitted with a wry laugh. “As I was about to say: your clothes are – or were, at least, folded in a pile on the end of the bed.” It’s only when he crawls to reach around the end of the bed that I notice that he’s not in uniform, but wearing striped pyjama bottoms and a ratty band t-shirt.

“Ev, what time is it?”

He tosses me a bundle of clothing. “Little after oh-three-hundred. You’ve been sleeping it off for the last seven hours or so.”

Gods, I feel like an ass. “I kicked you out of your own bed. Evan, I’m so, so sorry. I should get dressed and go.”

“Actually, l-- mate, I kicked you into my bed, and locked the door behind you when I left. Helped you out of your sweats first. Even tucked you in. When I left you were wearing a shirt and pants. The nudity was your idea.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” I said, then added, “I’ll still never get used to you Brits calling underwear, pants.”

“And I’ll never understand you Canucks calling trousers, pants. So we’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”

“Could you turn around, please?” Not that I had any dignity to preserve at this point, but it’s the principle of the thing. Getting my clothes back on proved harder than usual, and I almost tipped over twice before I finally managed it. “You can look now. Also, I kinda need a hand up. I’m coming down hard and I feel like shit.”

“Really? Cuz you look like arse.”

“Love you too, Coats.” I wobbled a bit as I stood up, so he helped ease me onto the edge of the bed. “Level with me, Evan: how bad was I?”

He set down beside me and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You sure you want to know? ‘Cuz you were acting like a right wanker.”

“Give it to me straight,” I said almost immediately regretting my words. My face sank further and further into my hands as he regaled me with a recap of the evenings events. It began with him investigating a rather loud crash from my room (apparently the bed wasn’t meant to be jumped on by a grown man). The tale then segued into him bodily removing me from said room over his shoulder (a fair amount of loud protestations, kicking, and at least one bite were involved). The great low-light of the evening involved my making increasingly aggressive sexual advances toward Evan; and I quote, “you came on like a bloody freight train, mate.”

By that point my face was resting on my knees. I let out a fairly pathetic groan. I didn’t even know where to begin apologizing. Evan Coats is one of my best friends, and I’d just put him through a roller-coaster of bullshit.

“Don’t get me wrong, if neither of us was in a committed relationship, I might’ve given in.” He was trying to lighten the mood, but I was having none of it.

“No you wouldn’t,” I said from between my knees. “I was high and acting like an ass.”

“Yeah, probably not, but you sure as shit made a compelling offer,” he agreed. “I’ve never seen you even close to that aggressive before. And I’ve gotten you fucking hammered at least twice.”

I sat up, only to fall backward onto the bed. “But you’ve never seen me high. Makes a kind of sense, I guess. Last time I seriously used narcotics, I turned tricks to support my habit.”

“Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. I was a traumatized kid without any real skills. And it’s amazing how many job vacancies get miraculously filled when they find out you can ‘move stuff with your brain’. You’d be surprised how much people are willing to pay to fuck a biotic.”

He lays down beside me as I continue to focus on the ceiling. “Jeezus, Kaid. That’s rough.”

“Everyone says that, like it wasn’t my choice. I did what I did, and I was good at it – made decent coin too.” I’d gotten over the negative stigma of sex work a long time ago; just wish everyone else could. “Look, Ev. I’m really sorry about everything that happened tonight. I don’t know how to even begin making it up to you.”

“Mate, it wasn’t exactly your fault,” he reminded me. “But when I find out who slipped you the pills, they’re gonna be busted down to buck private and thrown in the brig for a good long stretch.”

“Sounds good to m--” My stomach lurched. Shit, not now. “Bucket!”

I’d rather not recount the next few minutes in any detail. Suffice it to say, Coats was now in sore need of a new trashcan, and my body felt like jello. So when Evan said, “You’re sleeping here, and we’re sharing the damn bed, so you don’t do anything stupid like die on me in your sleep.” I wasn’t inclined to argue.

******

Shouts awoke me from a dead sleep. I’d say it was a heated argument, but it seemed very one-sided. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. A door slammed, boots clomped heavily up the stairs, followed by another door slamming shut, and an exasperated roar.

No getting back to sleep now. I rolled gingerly out of bed, my head reluctantly coming with me. I wobbled as I got to my feet, laying a hand against the wall until the room stopped moving. The morning after was not going to be a kind one.

I opened the bedroom door just as Evan slammed his fist into the wall.

“Shit!” he exclaimed grasping his own hand.

“I take it things went well this morning?”

He looked at me dumbfounded. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Not his best apology, but the thought was there. “You still look like arse.”

“Gee, thanks,” I replied. “Needed to get up anyway. My bladder is yelling almost as loudly as you were. Which, by the way, was impressive. I don’t envy the guy on the receiving end.”

“For all the good it’ll do,” he grumbled. He winced as he spoke.

“Want me to take a look at that?”

“Don’t worry about it, Kaid. Just bruised it, nothing’s broke.”

“Humour me, Ev.” My medical training kicks in automatically when I see someone in pain. I take hold of the hand that he nearly shoves in my face, feeling for anomalies. No breaks, but his middle finger is a bit crooked. “It’s dislocated at the second joint. I can reset the finger.”

“Fine, go on then,”

“Okay, but no bitching at me about it. Ready?” I braced his injured hand in my left palm.

“Just bloody do it.”

“On three. 1... 3!” I gave it a sharp pull and relocated the misaligned phalanges.

“Fucking hell!”

“Serves you right,” I said wryly. “Your form always was terrible. Look on the bright side, at least now you’ll have a good excuse for flipping people off.” He, of course, favoured me with a demonstration.

“Yeah, well they strongly disapprove of me discharging my firearm in quarters.” Evan keeps talking as I splint the finger. “And I doubt the brass would condone my shooting the cook’s assistant – his uncle’s a rear admiral with more commendations than his nephew has brain cells. Little shit’ll probably get away with a slap on the wrist, too. Bloody nepotism.”

At least now I had a ‘who.’ Something tells me the ‘why’ was going to be way more elusive. I pondered the answer as I went about my usual morning routine, ultimately coming up empty. It was a little slower going than I liked, but I got there in the end... even if I did have to shower sitting on the cold stall floor. Whatever those pills were, they kicked like a mule.

I made a stop at my assigned room to collect my belongings, and to assess the damage I’d caused. The bed is a complete write-off, but otherwise I’d only caused minor damage. My formerly damp uniform lay in a wrinkled heap where it had fallen off the radiator. After extricating my duffle from the wreckage, I changed into my last remaining presentable clothes – jeans, a black t-shirt, and a brown pullover – and slunk downstairs for a quick breakfast. My appetite was almost non-existent, but I’ve learned the hard way that not eating makes this a lot worse.

Evan informed me that my transport was due to arrive within the hour. Knowing the Alliance, I had about five minutes. “And you’d bloody well better be on it.”

“Trust me, Ev, much as I love your august company, I have zero interest in staying here any longer than I have to.”

He chucked me on the shoulder, “Next time you visit, I’ll cook.”

I shrug on the greatcoat that had been left to dry by the fire. “No need for threats, Coats,” I said with a smirk.

Evan shoved my bag at me, causing me to teeter a bit before regaining my composure. “I’ll have you know, General Alenko, that I make a fantastic steak and kidney pie.” My stomach wobbled at the thought, but breakfast stayed put. “And Kaid, I’ll see if I can get some better answers for ya. No promises though.”

I buttoned up the coat and shouldered the bag before extending my hand. As usual, he pulled me in for a hug. “Next time you wanna sleep with me, you just have to ask, mate.”

“You’re such a jackass, Evan,” I said, “but I love you anyway.” As predicted, I heard the whine of shuttle engine on approach. I put on my lid and fished the gloves out of my pockets, hesitating when one pocket turned out to be less empty than it should have been.

“Everything alright, mate?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s nothing. Just a hole in the lining,” I lied. “I’ll stitch it up later.” I wasn’t at all convincing, but he didn’t press. “Looks like my ride’s here. Catch ya later, Coats.”

My boots crunched through the thick crust of ice covering the ground as I trudged to the landing pad. I shoved my hands in my pockets to ward off the chill, my fingers toying with the small vial. Maybe I should have told Evan. Why hadn’t I?

Chapter Text

Two hours later we landed in the central transport hub of the megalopolis of Madrid. From there it was another half-hour by skycar to the newly rebuilt Hospital de la Defensa, where, if my timepiece was right, Liam should be freshly out of surgery.

After swiping my ID at the front desk, and making the pertinent inquiries with the hospital’s somewhat overtaxed VI, I took the elevator to the sixth level where Liam was currently convalescing. Despite being a functioning medical centre, there were still large portions of the building tarped off and under construction. Honestly, it was in a better state than most of the planet right now. After a couple of wrong turns I managed to navigate my way to the right room.

As soon as I saw his still groggy face, my body instantly let go of two days worth of tension.

“Hey, you.” Not my most creative greeting, but despite a two-hour nap on the flight, I was still too tired to think. I bent down and kissed him on the cheek, “You look good.”

Liam’s gaze was unfocused and his smile was wonky, but he was still quick on the uptake. “Liar,” he mumbled. His hand brushed lazily against my cheek, “You’re late... and you forgot to shave.”

“I had a rough night.” Technically not a lie. “And traffic was murder.”

He giggled... a side effect of the anaesthetic, I assumed. “Kaidan, I have a new leg!”

“Yeah, you do,” I agreed. The stupid giddy grin on his face was kind of infectious. He’d waited a long time for this to happen, and I had no intention of ruining his happiness. The whole story could wait, for now. “Can I see?”

“Yuh-hunh,” he said, pulling the blanket aside. “Oh good, it is there. Wasn’t sure.” The new limb was paler than the rest of his body, less muscle tone, but with no more than an inch-wide line of mild irritation at the attachment site. A nerve blocker was wrapped around the middle of his thigh; it would be slowly lowered over the next day or two to help his body to acclimate to the change. “So how’s it look?”

“It looks perfect, love.” I slumped down into the chair beside his cot.

There was a quizzical look on his face. “You okay, babe?” he asked.

I’ve never been a particularly good liar, and Shepard is particularly good at sniffing out bullshit. “It can wait ‘til you’re feeling less loopy.”

“Kaidan...”

I crumbled like a ripe feta cheese under that gaze. “There was an... incident yesterday. I kind of fell off the wagon. Not by my own choice, but it happened.” I paused to let him take in my meaning. Now for the hard part. “Liam, I enjoyed it. And I... ummm... I can’t promise it won’t happen again.”

Relaying everything that happened took a little extra time since he kept dozing off, but we got there in the end.

“Okay, that’s... a lot,” he commented. “Nothing small ever happens to us, does it?”

I couldn’t really disagree. “Guess not.”

He reached a hand down toward me, fingers catching under my chin, lifting my gaze up from the floor. “We’ll figure this out; we always do.” His thumb lightly grazed my cheek. “I know I can’t stop you from using if you want to. Just promise me a couple things. Promise me you won’t use alone, and promise you won’t lie about it.”

“I...” my voice broke before I could even finish a thought. Usually people wanted to pretend my addiction didn’t exist, it was something abstract. A little personal trinket they shoved in a junk drawer and promptly forgot about. This had to be the first time someone else not only acknowledged it, but also accepted it as a personal reality. I nodded, and finally squeaked out, “Promise.” I pressed his hand to my face; a reassuring warmth against my skin.

“Good,” he smiled back at me. “We’ll talk more later. I think we could both use some sleep.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I got up and started toward the door. The hotel was only a couple minutes away on foot, and the fresh air would do me some good.

He made a show of patting the mattress. “I didn’t get the extra wide hospital bed, just for the extra leg room, y’know.”

“You sure?” I asked, not really trusting his cognitive processes at the moment.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Just get your fabulous ass over here. I missed you last night. It was too quiet without your snoring.”

I hopped up beside him and snuggled in to his side and laying my head on his chest “I don’t snore.”

“Of course not, sweetie,” he said wrapping an arm around me. “Sleep tight.”

Try as I might, I just couldn’t seem to get settled, “Liam?”

“You’re still high, aren’t you.”

“Yeah, a bit buzzed.” I’d taken a quarter of a pill on the flight over. “Just enough to help me relax and sleep. How’d you know?” It had worked, for a while. Now, I was tired but too twitchy relax.

“Kay, I grew up around dealers and users, believe me, I can see it.” He was starting to fade out. “Yer not, like, super obvious or anything, but I know you reeeeeally well.”

“I’ll go,”

“Nope, you stay here. Get sleep.” As I lay back down with my hand over his heart, he wrapped his fingers around of my wrist. “Didn’t say I’d make it easy for you.”

Fair enough. If I were him, I wouldn’t let me out of my sight either.

He rubbed my back in a slow soothing motion, and soon enough I found myself drifting off to sleep.

 

Sand as far as the eye can see. Mars, maybe? Tiny particles sting as they hit my skin.

Gotta keep moving.

I can feel it behind me. The heavy footfalls silent as they shake the ground.

Searching.

Seeking.

There’s cover in the distance. Shelter from the wind. A place to hide from the beast that’s been dogging my steps for... hours?

Heh, ‘dogging’

“Took you long enough to get here, old man,” the kid pulls me into the cave just as the beast appears on the horizon. Too much hair gel, over-the-top eyeliner, and more metal in his face than strictly necessary. “It’s like you want ‘em to find you.”

“No, it’s not like that.” My heart pounds like a hammer in my chest. I can’t let the beast see me. “I just need to rest a minute.”

“I could take care of it for you, if you let me.” The boy grins and glows bright indigo. The light burns my eyes.

“Stop! It’ll see you.”

Too late. Three sets of mechanical eyes lock onto me. Slavering jowls drip saliva onto the ground, as it’s jaws snap at the cave entrance.

“I know,” he says, pushing past me, laying a hand on the beast’s muzzle. “Cerberus made me into you.”

“NO!” The scream echoed in my ears; heartbeat thundered in my chest. My body flailed as I woke, barely remembering where I was.

A pair of solid arms wrapped around me, “Hey, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

*****

Liam at least had the courtesy to wait until we were alone to ask. The medical team had been performing a few tests while I’d slept off the rest of the come down.

“You wanna tell me about it now or later?”

The question wasn’t quite registering with my sleep-addled brain, “What??”

“The dream, nightmare, or whatever the hell it was in your head that had your heart racing like you’d just run a 3-minute mile.”

“No.” I said, hoping against all odds that he might drop the subject. No such luck.

He gave an exasperated sigh, “That wasn’t one of the options.”

“Fine.” My brain still trying to parse what my subconscious had thrown at me. “Later then.” I swung my legs off the side of the bed. “I’m gonna head back to the rental. I could use a shower and some decent food... and maybe a walk to clear my head.”

“That where you stashed the drugs, or do you still have them on you?”

Somehow, I had a feeling he already knew the answer, so there was no point in lying about it. “You had the flat searched already, didn’t you?”

“And I went through your pockets while you were out,” he added. My husband was thorough, I’ll give him that. Trust, but verify – and right now ‘trust’ wasn’t part of that equation. Addicts lie. Shepard knew it; I knew it. “The pills are being analyzed in a private lab as we speak. I need to know what was worth you throwing away nearly two decades of sobriety for.”

So much for being non-judgmental.

“I really do need some air, love.” I was trying hard to hide my irritation. He was accepting my addiction, I shouldn’t expect him to enable it. “It might take me a while to figure out the answer to that myself.”

“When you figure it out, let me know?”

I bent down and kissed his forehead. “Of course. Get some rest, and I promise I’ll be back to talk your ear off tomorrow, okay?”

He gave his usual grunt of approval. “Love you, Kay. Be safe.”

“I will. Love you too, babe.”

Chapter Text

The more I walked, the more I thought. And the more I thought, the worse everything seemed.

How much of my life was really my own? Had any of my decisions been mine? Had I just been moulded into who Cerberus wanted me to be? Was any part of my life real? My friends? My relationships? My marriage?

Fuck.

Now I was lost in an unfamiliar city. As megalopolises went, Madrid was ultimately the no different than any other population centre of its size. It had its good parts (most of which had been razed to the ground), its bad parts, and the parts that it would never admit to having. That's where I found myself heading. The more lost I got, the more lost I wanted to get.

The streets, if you could even call them that, were barely more than paths here. Where there was pavement, it was dull, cracked, and full of potholes. Where there were cobblestones, they were uneven, or just missing (a convenient weapon). But mostly it was just packed earth to get mired in after a rain. The people who populated the area could be described similarly.

I have a vague recollection of entering a shitty taberna that probably distilled all its own booze in the bathtub upstairs. Three or four drinks in there was a conversation between myself and a local, each in our best broken Italian, about where to find something 'a little stronger.' That's when time began to blur..

There are flashes of memory: dancing surrounded by flashing lights; laughing, crying, a Barrier thrown; but mostly a blank slate. I just flowed wherever the world decided to take me.

When I fully regained consciousness it was entirely against my will, to a half-heard shouting match muted behind a wall.

"Where is he?" Liam shouts. "Take me to him now!"

I can barely make out the response, even with my gene modded hearing. "I'm sorry Capitán Shepard, but I cannot allow that." Male, local accent, probably in charge of wherever 'here' was.

"The hell you can't!" There's a faint, but familiar, prickle of electricity across my skin. "That's my husband you have in there, and I'm not leaving without him. Are we clear?"

"Whoa there, Captain." Another voice, feminine, authoritative, very familiar. "Bringing down the whole place on top of us isn't gonna help." Galvares? What the hell was she doing here? Why couldn't I feel my face? And why was it so dark in here?

Oh, right, eyelids are still down.

So. Heavy.

The light wobbled. My brain took a moment to catch up with eyes. My whole body felt like it was made of clay, and also like I might float away. Better to just stay put.

The ceiling was nondescript plascrete, just like the wall next to where I lay. The surface I was on wasn't soft, nor was it uncomfortable. I'd slept on literal rocks before, anything flat and not lumpy was a luxury. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed off the walls of wherever-it-was, stopping a few metres from my position.

"So, are you sobered up enough to answer a few questions, or do I have to come in there and throw a bucket of ice-water on you." Gunnery Chief Lucita Galvares did not sound happy to see me. "'Cause I'm more than happy to find one. No one's heard a peep from you in FOUR DAYS, Alenko. Shepard pulled me off leave in Basque country to come help look for your sorry ass, because, for reasons I still can't fucking fathom, I'm one of your goddamned emergency contacts." She paused, presumably for a deep breath, before continuing, "Care to enlighten me?"

"Wha—?" Well that was a brilliant answer. "Four days?" My mouth felt full of cotton balls. The room twisted as turned my toward her. Once the image resolved, she didn't look happy to see me either. And there looked to be bars between us. What the fuck?

"Think you can manage to sit upright, jackass?"

"Not really,"

"Well, I suggest you try, fuckhead," was her not-so-gentle reply. "There's water to your left…. your other left, dumbass."

Righting myself hurt more than it should have, and clocking the back of my head off the cement wall hadn't helped. "Ow!" Since sympathy was clearly not forthcoming, I tried a different tack. "Why am I in the brig?"

"You're here, numb nuts, because your husband convinced the local constabulary to let you sleep it off instead of throwing the proverbial book at you."

"What for?"

Lucy's glare could have melted the steel bars between us. "You seriously have no clue, do you, jerk wad?"

I shook my head, no. Ugh, big mistake. I closed my eyes until the room stopped spinning again. What the hell had I taken? And how much? I'd lost time before, usually hours, not days; and coming down was rarely this bad.

"What, exactly, do you remember after you left Shepard's hospital room?" she inquired. At least now there was a hint of concern in her voice.

I gave her my account, as best I could. Both my voice and body shook as I talked. I was already starting to detox, and it was going to get a lot worse before it got better. Gods, I need something to take the edge off. Not much, just enough to stop the shakes.

"Well, you obviously found a supplier." Lucy took a cleansing breath, then took a seat on the floor. This was not a good sign. "As far as Shepard and I can figure, you traded your belongings for whatever you could get your hands on. Heroin, fentanyl, red sand, and some other things that I'd never heard of before. Tracing your omnitool was the easiest—got it back, by the way—you owe me $90 creds.. Your trail was pretty easy to pick up from there. By the time I got involved, you'd already been missing for more than a day. Shepard needed someone who could do the legwork, since he's still supposed to be recovering from the surgery.." Her eyes drifted toward the door as Liam's voice once again rose in anger and frustration. "Not that that's stopped him from 'helping'."

She rolled her eyes before continuing, "Anyway, we eventually found you in a flop house in the under-city. You were passed out with your arm wrapped around some girl who wasn't in much better shape than you." Well that didn't bode well. "The only things you had on were an undershirt and your shorts. Honestly, I was a little surprised you had anything on."

There was only one question I desperately needed an answer to right now, "Did I hurt anyone?"

"What?"

"Was anyone hurt because of me?" I pleaded with her. "Please, Luce, I need to know. If I used sand… it can get messy."

"Physically? No." she replied. "You didn't go ape-shit with your biotics. Emotionally? Yeah, big time.. Shepard's a mess. The guy was worried sick about you when he should have been taking it easy, like he was supposed to."

I got hit with another wave of nausea, this one powered by shame and guilt more than anything else. "I'm sor—"

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to, Kaid," Lucy said, cutting off my apology. "You can make amends later. I take payment in food." Now there was the Lucy Galvares I knew and loved. "Now, go clean yourself up, and let's blow this joint before your husband does it for us."

The cell had a toilet, a small sink, and a mirror, in addition to the bunk I'd been laying on. After overcoming the balance issue, I managed to relieve myself, and wash my hands. As I looked up, the creature I glimpsed in the mirror was barely recognizable. Sunken eyes, greasy unkempt hair, chapped lips, and an almost grey complexion. This was not a healthy man staring back at me. How did it get this bad, this quickly?

There was a metallic creaking behind me, and I nearly jumped as Lucy set a hand on my shoulder..

"C'mon, butt knuckle. Let's get you out of here before your hubby levels the place." Her tone was more compassionate than her words suggested. "Next time you decide to go on a four-day bender, call me first. I am your sponsor after all. At least I was last time I checked." She wrapped a muscular arm around my back, and (thankfully) took some of my weight.

"It wasn't exactly a well-thought-out plan, Luce," I replied. "Besides, I didn't even know if you were…. y'know….."

"Alive?" she finished for me.

"Yeah. That."

She huffed a small laugh, "I guess that's a fair point. But now you have no excuses."

"Yes ma'am."

When we reached the door, I hesitated, not sure that I wanted to face who and what was on the other side, but it slid open nonetheless.

"¡Quiero ver a mi marido ahora!" Liam shouted at the poor guard as we entered the outer room.

As I opened my mouth to speak, I got no further than, "H—" before being gathered rather suddenly against my husband's broad chest.

"Kaidan!!" Multiple kisses to the top of my head. "You're alive! I've been worried sick." He stepped back to look at me. Gods, those impossibly blue eyes would be the death of me. "Where have you been? What happened to you?… Y'know what? Never mind that right now. Let's just get you out of here." He pulled me in tight again. His next words were to the desk officer, "¿Puedo llevármelo a casa?"

"Sí, Capitán Shepard. Firme aquí y salga," the exasperated man replied. I still hadn't clued in that my translator unit wasn't working. "Cabrón…" he grumbled under his breath, which was fair considering everything he'd just taken from my spouse.

Liam kept holding me with one arm as he took up the stylus to sign my release documents, as if he were afraid to let me go even for a moment. Which, to be fair, was probably the case. And I was far too tired to object, even though all I wanted to do in the moment was crawl out of my skin.

"Come on, love," he said quietly, ushering me toward the exit, "let's get you somewhere safe."

Lucy stuck her head out the door, looking left and right before withdrawing it again. "Outside's clear," she said, Shepard giving her the thumb's-up . "Looks mercifully like the press haven't got wind of this yet."

"Good. Let's get out while the getting is good."

I was too tired to even look up as we moved outside, and I didn't trust myself not to trip and fall over the smallest rise in the pavement, which is why I was startled when Liam's biotic barrier went up around me.