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Sanity Check	By : ambersue Category: +M through R > Mass Effect Views: 4408 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, and sadly, no one pays me to write about any of this.

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**Author's note** New title, seems to fit the overall story a bit more than the first. This is just for fun...with a little angst thrown in for flavor. Just filling in the gaps in the story line. Commentary is always appreciated.**

Kaidan stood on the observation deck, fuming silently as he stared down at Rannoch, which was sliding slowly by beneath the Normandy. He tried to focus on the soothing colors of the planet, the blues and browns so similar to Earth, to ease the tension at the base of his skull. If he didn’t get himself under control, that tension was going to grow up to be a bitch of a migraine.

Fucking Shepard.

Against his will, Kaidan found himself playing back the last hour in his mind. Shepard, leaving him behind and heading out to destroy a Reaper base like he was a fucking knight in N7 armor. Shepard was always getting himself into dangerous situations, but Kaidan was used to being right next to him when, as the saying went, shit got serious. This time Shepard had taken Garrus and Tali, and left Kaidan in charge of the Normandy. Listening over the coms as Shepard crawled out of the transport to face down a motherfucking Reaper…Kaidan felt his fury building as he remembered.

He practically clawed Joker’s eyes out to get to the com. “Get your ass back in that transport, Commander!”

Scratchy and distant, Legion’s robotic voice came back. “I don’t think he can hear you, Major Alenko.”

“Then you tell him,” Kaidan shot back. “Tell him it’s a goddamn order.”

“Sir, I don’t believe Commander Shepard is answerable to—”

Kaidan had dismissed himself from the bridge. Well, that was saying it politely. Kaidan had freaked right the hell out, is what he had done, and then stormed off to his bunk before anyone saw the worst of it. He didn’t like losing his cool. He was supposed to be an example: the highest-ranking officer on this ship, the second human to ever become a Spectre…he ought to be someone people could look up to. God, how many years had he fought to be seen as levelheaded?

Like you have to ask, he thought darkly. Probably since right around the time you lost your temper and murdered Vyrnnus in cold blood. He pushed the thought away, back to the black space in his mind where he kept that particular gem of a memory.

No, he did not like losing his cool at all. But Shepard was pushing it. Risking his life needlessly, like he didn’t know the Alliance needed him, the whole damn galaxy needed him. No. Fuck that. Like he didn’t know Kaidan needed him.

And ever since their conversation on the Citadel…

…It just feels right, he had said. The understatement of the year, when it came to expressing his feelings for Shepard, but it had taken him years to muster up the courage to say those words. He’d known it would change things—he’d been prepared for rejection, for awkwardness, hell, maybe even some great sex, depending on how Shepard responded. But this? Shepard had kept him at arm’s length ever since. Giving him knowing glances, then leaving him behind on key missions. Was he avoiding him? Or worse—did he think he was protecting him? Because I will be goddamned, Shepard—his headache spiked as his blood pressure rose in anger—if I let you ‘protect’ me right out of this war.

His blood was pounding in his ears, roaring so loudly that he didn’t hear the door hiss open behind him.

“Major.”

Kaidan jumped, startled, at Shepard’s voice, and hoped the other man hadn’t noticed. He forced a blank face, crossed his arms tighter, and made himself continue staring out the window.

“Commander,” he replied coolly. Well, a few degrees below cool, actually. It was sort of a wonder ice wasn’t forming on the observation deck window.

He heard Shepard take a few steps toward him. The commander’s voice was almost gentle. “You doing alright?”

Alright? Kaidan’s L2 implant nearly twitched, he wanted so badly to Throw Shepard back against a bulkhead. Paint a laser sight on that, dickhead. He knew he was being childish, but really. Are you doing alright. What an asshole thing to ask.

“I’m fine,” was all he said. God, he sounded like a woman. Kaidan didn’t know if he was more disgusted with Shepard or himself.

“Really?” said Shepard, coming to stand next to him. He leaned casually against the window, forcing himself into Kaidan’s line of sight. “Because you look like you have something to say.”

The major studied Shepard out of the corner of his eye, the place where his armor met the angled window making it look like the commander was leaning precariously out into space. Even knowing Shepard was safe—the window wasn’t going to disintegrate, his friend’s body wasn’t going to hurtle into the vacuum of space—it made Kaidan’s heart beat faster. Just the illusion of Shepard in danger, triggering every protective instinct in his body. He hated himself for not being able to just tell Shepard how much—just how much.

How much he cared, how hurt he was at being left behind, how scared he’d been, and then how relieved at seeing Shepard still alive.

And ok, the window thing really was bothering him.

“Stop that,” he said, involuntarily uncrossing his arms to push Shepard away from the black emptiness that seemed ready to swallow him up. It wasn’t much of a touch, but the making contact with him, even just his hand on his armor, dissipated some of Kaidan’s anger. His body language eased a bit, his eyes softening. “You really wanna know, John?”

Shepard took a step closer and spread his arms a bit, gesturing to himself. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Kaidan met his gaze, brown eyes holding blue. Yes, he thought. For now. Until the next time you have to do something heroic. That psychic twitch again, the urge to slap Shepard with something stronger than just his hand. He sighed, taking a deep breath to calm himself. Unclenched a fist he didn’t remember making. “You’re a real son of a bitch, Shepard, you know that?”

The commander’s eyes widened, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say to an orphan.”

Kaidan didn’t mean to laugh. He caught the sound halfway out of his mouth and choked it off, glaring at Shepard. “I’m being serious.”

“Well, in that case,” said Shepard, a teasing note creeping into his voice, “I’ll probably have to have you court-martialed or something. Slander. Insubordination. Mutiny.”

“I’ll pull rank,” Kaidan returned, playing along in spite of himself.

“I heard that you tried.”

The humor faded from Kaidan’s eyes, and the playful moment evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.

Shepard's voice was still light, however, as he said, “Giving me orders, Kaidan? You might outrank me, Major, but it’s still my ship.”

The major pushed away from the window and sat down on the couch, facing away from Shepard.

“Kaidan…”

He rubbed the back of his neck, but did not turn around. Shepard crossed the room to sit beside him.

“Kaidan, I’m sorry.”

Kaidan glanced at him.

“I know you’re…upset. But there are things I have to do.”

“Can you even hear yourself, John?” There was heat in Kaidan’s voice, but he wasn’t yelling. Not quite. “Look. I know having half the galaxy worship the ground you walk on is a heady thing, but you are not a super hero.”

Shepard’s gaze hardened. “Do you think I don’t know that? I died, Kaidan, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Shepard.” Kaidan scrubbed a hand through his hair, anger beginning to get the better of him. “I was there.”

Shepard flinched at the edge in his tone. Kaidan looked him in the eye, emphasizing each word with a finger pointed accusingly at Shepard’s chest. “I watched you die. Watched you save me once, without telling me—without even asking me—” He fumbled to a stop, his voice catching in a way he didn’t like.

Shepard let out a long breath. “Is that what this is about?”

Kaidan threw up his hands. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them furiously away. Fucking Shepard. “You’re doing it all over again,” he said. Now that he’d begun to give them voice, his thoughts spilled out of him, and he made each word steel. “You’ll go off to play the goddamn hero, and you’ll put me aside. Keep an eye on Kaidan, he can’t take care of his own damn self. Poor little Army brat Kaidan, let’s just have him sit this one out.”

Shepard was silent, just looking at him. The major fought to control his ragged breathing. With each exhale, pain shot through his skull. He rubbed his palms roughly against his eyes, knowing it was in vain. Once the pain hit a certain threshold, there was no going back.

They sat that way for some time—Kaidan, having said his piece, trying to nurse his growing headache, and Shepard staring at nothing in particular. Finally, after a long silence, Shepard said, “Army brat? I thought your dad was a Marine.”

Kaidan stopped palming his eyes and looked at him blankly. Slowly—and painfully, now that his migraine was in full swing—he smiled. “Christ, Shepard,” he said through gritted teeth. His voice was somewhere between a laugh and a growl. “You don’t even know how to argue right.”

“I don’t want to argue.”

Kaidan rubbed at his temples now, the smile twisting into a near grimace as he fought the throbbing in his head. “Someday,” he muttered, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

It was Shepard’s turn to be serious. He caught Kaidan’s chin and turned his face toward him. “I hope not.”

Kaidan froze for a moment. It was the first time Shepard had touched him—really touched him, not to pull him out of some enemy’s line of fire or shift past him in a hallway, but on purpose reached out and just touched him—since their conversation on the Citadel. And it was as thrilling as it was unexpected. The commander’s hands were calloused, scraping against the stubble on Kaidan’s jaw in a way that should have been unpleasant, but wasn’t. Kaidan searched Shepard’s eyes for some clue as to what the other man was thinking. He’d always admired Shepard for being straightforward, easy to read. When had the man gotten so damn confusing?

He pulled away from Shepard’s touch, but held his gaze. “I don’t get you, Shepard.”

The commander cocked an eyebrow at him. He looked himself up and down, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Open book, Kaidan. What’s not to get?’

Now Kaidan looked away, pushing himself up from the couch—and falling right back down again with a thump. Christ, his fucking head.

“Kaidan!” Shepard was there, one hand on his arm, sliding off the couch to kneel in front of him. “Major, what’s wrong?”

Kaidan groaned and let Shepard ease him back against the couch cushions. “Migraine,” he replied. “Not the worst I’ve ever had, but…I probably shouldn’t have stood up so fast.”

“Oh.” Was it his imagination, or was that relief on Shepard’s face? “Can I get you anything?” He called over his shoulder, “EDI, tell Dr. Chakwas—”

“No,” Kaidan interrupted. “She doesn’t have anything that helps.”

EDI’s soothing voice came back over the com. “Tell Dr. Chakwas what, Commander?”

Shepard looked back at Kaidan.

“She can’t do anything, Shepard. Not once it’s this bad.”

“Never mind,” said Shepard, addressing EDI. To Kaidan, he said, “You should have seen her earlier.”

“I was busy,” Kaidan moaned, throwing an arm over his eyes, “thinking of ways to use my biotics to kill my commander.”

“Oh, now who’s making jokes?”

“Shut up, Shepard. My head hurts.”

“I really can’t do anything?”

Kaidan didn’t move. “Whiskey,” he grunted. “It’s in the cabinet.” He gestured vaguely across the room.

“That helps?”

He shrugged. “Not really. But it sure doesn’t hurt.”

The commander opened the cabinet, found the bottle, and filled two tumblers with the amber liquid. He glanced at the label. “This isn’t the bottle I got you.”

Kaidan shook his head. Slowly. “I’m saving that one for a special occasion. This one—” he took the glass that Shepard offered him “—I won off Wreav. Turns out Krogans suck at cards.”

Shepard sniffed at his own glass, pulling a face. “Jesus, Kaidan, what do the Krogran even put in this? It smells like the wrong end of a thresher maw. Anything else you need? Some Batarian piss, maybe?”

The major sipped at his glass, peering out at him from underneath his arm. “I’m fine with this, thanks. You could dim the lights, though.”

Shepard complied, shooting him a crooked smile. “Booze? Mood lighting? Are you fighting a headache, Major? Or are you hitting on me?”

Groaning again, Kaidan retreated back under his arm. “I can’t do both?” Yes, it was definitely easier to flirt with Shepard when he wasn’t looking right at him. He gave up sipping and took a healthy swallow of his whiskey.

He knew how he felt, but Shepard had been forbidden fruit for so long, and Kaidan was still on shaky ground when it came to seeing him as an equal, much less as a…god, he hated the word lover. So why, when it popped into his head, did his stomach tighten like that?

Temptation won over awkwardness, and Kaidan stole a glance at Shepard to gage his reaction. The commander was watching him, impassive, the smile still in place. He hadn’t moved away, but he hadn’t moved closer either.

“You’re really not going to meet me halfway, here, are you?” Kaidan asked.

Shepard’s smile slipped a little. “What are you talking about?”

Apparently, Kaidan thought, pain made him bold, because he felt his embarrassment melting away. Glancing down, he noticed his nearly empty whiskey glass. Oh. Well, pain and alcohol. Who needed courage? He took a deep breath. “I wasn’t lying, John. What I said on the Citadel.”

The smile was gone now. “I know. I wasn’t lying, either.”

A pause that threatened to stretch into awkward silence. “We don’t have to,” Kaidan began. “I mean, I’m sorry if I pushed you. If you’re not…” He didn’t know how to finish, so he just trailed off lamely.

Shepard shook his head. “I told you,” he said. “I wasn’t lying. I just…Kaidan, dammit, I don’t know how to do this.”

Kaidan waited, still watching Shepard from under his arm. The commander smiled again, more rueful this time. “It’s been a long time. And I’ve never been very good at…” He waved a hand, indicating both of them, the space between them, the room.

“…Communicating?” Kaidan offered, chuckling deep in his throat and then wincing at the sound. “Yeah,” he said, when he could breathe through the pain again, “I can see that.” He moved his arm, fighting back a wave of dizziness to push himself halfway upright. The small amount of whiskey left in his glass sloshed onto his shirt. “I should probably find that reporter girl, the one who’s always rubbing her boobs all over you?”

“Allers? Why do you need her?” Shepard looked torn between surprise and amusement.

“Finally found something the great and powerful Shepard is bad at,” grunted Kaidan. “Seems newsworthy to me.”

Shepard laughed. “And, Christ, Kaidan, rubbing her boobs all over me? Feeling that whiskey a little, are you?”

Kaidan waved his hand dismissively. “When you hurt this bad, you don’t have room in your brain for filters.”

“Hopefully the filters in your liver still work. That stuff must pack a hell of a punch. I guess that explains why anyone would put up with the smell.”

“Stop trying to change the subject.”

Shepard set his glass, whiskey still untouched, to one side, and sat down beside Kaidan on the couch. The major shifted a little to make room for him. A very little. He liked the way Shepard felt pressed against him. The weight of him was…reassuring.

“What do you want to know?” Shepard’s voice was sincere, but wary. This was uncharted territory for him as well.

Kaidan pressed his hands to his eyes, trying to clear his head. He had questions, but the whiskey and the headache made him want to forget them. He could just lie here on the couch, maybe fall asleep next to Shepard…

No. He needed to ask.

“I don’t know…” He stopped. Tried again. “Ever since Eden Prime, I’ve been with you. I know I had my doubts, after Cerberus…but you proved me wrong. What I told you on the Citadel was true, but maybe it wasn’t enough.” He paused, chasing down thoughts that were trying to escape into the haze of pain and alcohol. “You’re not just someone I admire. You’re not just someone I want to spend time with. You’re the one I would follow anywhere. You’re the one I…I don’t know, John, the one I fucking believe in.

“So I’m with you. That doesn’t change. Even if your answer on the Citadel had been different, that wouldn’t change. But it wasn’t different. I offered something more, and you said yes.”

Shepard shifted. “What’s your question, Major?”

“I guess my question is…why did you say yes? What did you think you were saying yes to, even? I don’t want you here because you feel obligated. I want to know…” Kaidan was suddenly finding it hard to make eye contact with Shepard. “Well, I want to know that you’re with me, too.”

Another silence. Kaidan didn’t know where to look, so he closed his eyes and waited.

“Major.” Shepard’s voice, from closer than it ought to have been. Kaidan opened his eyes. Shepard was, indeed, closer, his face only a few inches from Kaidan’s. When he spoke, his voice was soft but firm. “I’m with you.”

Kaidan felt a twinge of dizziness that had nothing to do with the whiskey or the headache. He drank in the words, wanting more. “Not just as a soldier, Shepard? Not just—”

And then Shepard’s lips were covering his own, cutting off his questions, answering them with actions instead of words. It hurt to sit up, to move, but Kaidan made himself lean into the kiss. That tight place deep in his stomach wound even tighter, everything in his body focused on this. He needed one hand to keep himself from keeling over, but the other made its way to Shepard’s chest, palm flat, fingers sliding up to caress his neck, his jaw. Shepard’s mouth opened to him, and Kaidan’s tongue explored it willingly. Hell, maybe even a little desperately. He was just drunk enough not to care.

It seemed like a long time before Kaidan pulled back, resting his forehead against Shepard’s, using his hand around Shepard’s neck to support himself. His breath came quickly, in strange, uneven bursts. Shepard, the bastard, still looked relatively composed. Maybe a little flushed. And—Kaidan smiled—a little stubble-burned around the mouth.

“Ok,” Kaidan said after awhile, his voice a ragged whisper. “So you’re with me.”

Shepard grinned. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m mad as hell.” He kissed him again to take the sting out of the words. And, to be honest, because it was still such a novel idea, kissing Shepard. Actually kissing him.

“The only difference,” said Kaidan, “is that now I know exactly why I’m mad at you.”

A raised eyebrow. “And why is that, Major?”

Kaidan’s hand, still around Shepard’s neck, tightened, forcing Shepard’s eyes to meet his own. “You have to stop trying to protect me.”

“Kaidan…”

“I’m serious, Commander. You don’t get to leave me behind anymore. I don’t want you coddling me like I’m the goddamn king’s favorite concubine.”

Shepard bit back a laugh at that. “I’m not doing it on purpose, Kaidan. It’s just…” He looked at him imploringly. “I don’t know what I’d do, if something happened. When you went down on Mars, on my watch…I can’t let that happen again, Kaidan.”

“It’s not up to you, John.”

“Actually,” Shepard corrected, “it is.”

Rather than argue, Kaidan kissed him again. “No more, Shepard. I’m with you. Even when it’s dangerous.” He smiled. “Hell. Especially when it’s dangerous.”

“I’m not making any promises. But I’ll try.” Kaidan opened his mouth to protest, and Shepard covered it with another kiss. It started slow, like their first, but this one built steadily, and neither one seemed prepared to back down first. Within the space of a few heartbeats, the kiss was almost a battle: their tongues fought over territory, chasing each other back and forth. Kaidan’s lips were crushed against his teeth, hard enough to hurt. His stomach began to clench again, the first twinges of a deeper, hungrier ache. His headache eased a bit as the blood the had been pounding at skull suddenly found a more urgent job, rushing to where it was suddenly needed.

Kaidan pulled back from him just enough to mutter, “Fuck.”

“Is that good fuck,” asked Shepard, “or a bad fuck?”

“Oh come on, Shepard.” Kaidan’s eyes were still half-closed and heavy with desire, his lips curled into a ghost of a smile. “Fucks are like pizzas. Even when they’re bad, they’re still pretty good.”

“How’s your head?”

Kaidan glanced involuntarily at his lap, saw Shepard catch him, and flushed. “Ah. It’s a wreck, but at least you’re…distracting.”

Shepard was glancing around the room. The look on his face was the same one he got when examining a potential battlefield—analyzing cover, noting possible entrances and exists, laying out strategies.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “you told me that if I made you happy, there were benefits to that happiness.”

The major raised an eyebrow, his smile creating a dimple on one cheek. “I did.”

“And I think, if the look on your face means what I think it means, that you are at least marginally happy at the moment.”

Kaidan tilted his head to one side, as if to consider this. “I suppose.” The dimple deepened.

“So I propose that we find a place,” said Shepard, leaning in to him, “where you explain these…benefits…to me.”

Now Kaidan’s smile was almost animal. “Shepard. You may have to carry me, but get me where you want to go, and I promise…I will educate you.”

Shepard stood, half lifting, half dragging Kaidan up with him. The major swayed, catching himself roughly against Shepard’s shoulder. “Fuck!”

Shepard chuckled. “Good fuck?”

A laugh that was almost a moan. “Commander, you have no idea.”
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