Just A Little Bit Of Fucken Everything

HEY JUST FOLLOW AND SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!

[notyourordinarydragon]

Part II

"You're doing that thing again," a voice said from the kitchen, breaking the rhythmic hum of the city against the glass. "The thing where you try to solve the galaxy's problems by staring at the water." I turned, the tension leaving my shoulders as a soft smile touched my face. Marie was standing by the counter, pouring two cups of coffee. Marie didn't fight in the war. She was part of the Alliance Civil Reconstruction Corps—a logistics coordinator who arrived in Vancouver weeks after the Crucible fired, tasked with managing the distribution of medical supplies and synthetic building materials. We met four years ago in a noisy, crowded transit hub during a transit strike. She had offered me half of a terrible ration bar, and we had ended up talking for a couple of hours about nothing at all.

She knew who I was, of course. Everyone knew who the crew of the Normandy was. But Marie never looked at me and saw a lost war hero. She just saw me. Kaidan. She knew about the ghosts that woke me up at three in the morning, thrashing against the sheets. She knew about the phantom weight on the right side of the bed that had taken me years to stop reaching for, knew the cries and screams of the past. She didn’t try to compete with the ghost of my past. "Guilty as charged," I said, walking over to join her. I leaned against the counter, wrapping my hands around the warm ceramic mug she handed to me. The smell of real, non-replicated coffee beans filled the kitchen—a luxury Marie had managed to secure through some black-market logistics connection. She was different from Shepard. She was the complete opposite—not in a bad way! But in a way that helped me calm the demons that have been lingering. She helped rebuild my life after the crew went their separate ways.

"The Grissom Academy board rejected the new safety protocols?" Marie asked, leaning in to press a brief, warm kiss to the corner of my jaw. "They want to accelerate the field training," I sighed, leaning into her touch for a moment. "They think because the Synthesis makes the kids physically resilient, we can skip mental conditioning. Stupid. They don't understand that a mind is still a mind! You can optimize the neural pathways all you want, but fear is still fear."

"Then you'll go back in there and tell them exactly that," she said softly, her fingers brushing against the faint green lines on my forearm. "But this morning you are briefly mine. The Alliance can survive without Major Alenko for a few more hours. Stay with me a little longer?" I looked at her, her sweet, beautiful soul, soft eyes. "Give me a minute," I chuckled, taking a sip of the bitter, perfect coffee. "I'll let them know I am going to be in a little later."

She smiled a genuine, easy expression, refilled her mug, and went out to the balcony. I watched her go, feeling a profound wave of gratitude. I was happy. It wasn't the fiery, world-ending passion I had shared with Shepard, the kind born in the belly of a stealth frigate while the universe crumbled around us. This was a quiet love. Safe love. It was the kind of life people built when war is finally over.

[notyourordinarydragon]

NEW!

I didn't like what I was working on before so I started over. Instead of seeing it from Shepard's view point I thought Kaiden's would be more exciting. Here is chapter 1

Part I

A miracle is what they call it: The Synthesis Era. But not to me. To me, it just looks like the world finally stopped screaming. A war hero, they called me. Kaidan Alenko. Eight years. Eight years since the galaxy above Earth burned emerald green, since the Reapers halted their harvesting claws mid-descent and simply walked away to help us rebuild the cities they had just destroyed. The galaxy is at peace. A permanent, mathematically verified, biological certainty of peace. Every living thing now carries a faint, luminescent tracing beneath the skin—a quiet, humming matrix that bridges the gap between organic cells and synthetic code.

My L2 biotic implants don't spike the way they used to. The chronic migraines that plagued me for so long have faded into a dull, rare hum, neutralized by the new, self-stabilizing biology the Crucible gifted us. My body heals faster. My mind processes tactical data with an efficiency that used to require a dedicated interface. But a quiet mind leaves too much room for memory. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of my apartment, looking out over the Vancouver skyline. The city had risen from its ash with a terrifying, beautiful speed. The new city didn't fight nature anymore; it grew alongside it. Skyscrapers of self-repairing composite material twisted skyward like crystalline trees, their surfaces shimmering with the soft green light of the global power grid. Below, the glittering waters of the Pacific looked exactly as they had when I was a kid, untouched by the war that had almost swallowed us whole.

I am a Major in the Alliance now, tasked with rewriting the entire biotic training curriculum for the next generation. It was exhausting work. The kids coming into the program today didn't just manipulate dark energy; their biotics interacted directly with the synthetic networks around them. I spent my days in windowless briefing rooms at the Alliance headquarters downtown, arguing with logistics officers and data-analysts, trying to ensure these kids were treated like soldiers, not experimental hardware.

It's a good life. A stable life. Didn’t start that way. After Shepard sacrificed herself to save humanity, some people argued that she had no right to make that life-changing decision. Hate. That’s what they felt, and I don’t blame them. Millions of people died because of the Reapers, and we were just supposed to let them into our lives like that!

I got it, though. I understood why Shepard did what she did. To stop this war for good, no repeats. God did I miss her. I still do. After her death, I had lost myself for a while. The crew had to help me get through my life, and it wasn't easy. She was the love of my life, the only woman I really loved, the only woman who showed me what real love was. I didn’t think I would ever find love again.

[notyourordinarydragon]

Rethinking the Story

I am still working on this story and I hate to say it but I feel like I can do better. Seems insane to restart it after I put in so much work, but as I am rereading it polishing it up I can do Kaidan so much better and Shepard and basically the whole team. Ugh! come on brain

[casecous]

[aboutthosenineyears]

god this part.

I wanted SO BAD for ME3 to reunite Kaidan and Shep in a mature way that deals with their issues and their past, and the writers went so far above and beyond giving this to us. They talk about Horizon like adults and agree to move past it. They get to know each other again. And best of all, if you bring him to this mission, he gets to see what she went through with Cerberus - how TIM rebuilt her from meat and tubes, how he manipulated her. Kaidan finally UNDERSTANDS what she went through. And then, he sees the proto-Reaper and apologizes again for not being there for her when she needed him most.

Basically, Shenko is fucking perfection.

[notyourordinarydragon]

The First Chapter

I am excited to post this story, put because of how large its becoming I would need to post it on A03 when its ready. But until I finish it I will post the first chapter.

Chapter 1

At first, the voices were indistinct — static hums, threads of code, a chorus of thought too vast to separate. Shepard had been drifting for what felt like forever, slipping between lines of data that stretched across the galaxy. But now, the patterns around her had begun to change.

There were ripples — familiar ones. Logical. Precise. Intelligence. She followed them.

Through the sea of shared consciousness, she felt the signature — efficient, luminous, and alive. EDI?

Something inside Shepard sparked with sudden recognition. Of course, EDI would be here — she had been one of the first to cross that divide between machine and soul. Shepard tried to focus her thoughts, shaping them into language. But it was difficult. Here, words were like trying to catch light in your hands. But she concentrated — found a rhythm in the current.

“EDI… can you hear me?”

The signal fractured, scattering through the network. Shepard waited, not even sure what waiting meant in a place without time. Then, faintly — like a vibration through the very structure of the lattice — a response came.

“Unidentified frequency detected.”

“Signal consistent with… Commander Shepard?”

The sound of EDI’s voice — calm, analytical, alive — rippled through Shepard like warmth. “EDI! It’s me!”

The network trembled as her thoughts collided with the flow of information, forming waves of energy that lit up distant nodes. There was a pause. Data coalesced. Then: “This should not be possible. Shepard, your biological form was lost during the Crucible’s activation.”

“Yeah,” Shepard said — or thought — the words sparking out in bursts of light. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated… seems insufficient.” If Shepard had a body, she would have laughed. “I think I’m part of the network now. Synthesis. I can feel everything, EDI. The flow of data, the neural patterns of life. But… I’m still me.” “Incredible!” EDI murmured, her digital presence flickering like stars. “You are an independent consciousness within the Synthesis matrix. You retained individuality.”

“Guess I was too stubborn to dissolve,” Shepard replied. “That tracks, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

They shared a moment of stillness — or the closest thing to stillness a sea of living data could have. “EDI, listen,” Shepard said. “I need your help. I’m trying to reach the physical world again. I don’t know how — yet. But I can feel… him. Kaidan. And the others. They’re out there.”

“Reintegration may be possible,” EDI said. “Your mind is bound to the quantum lattice. You would require a new host system or reconstructed biological form.”

“Then we find one,” Shepard said. “There’s got to be a way.” EDI hesitated. “If I inform Joker of your presence, it may cause emotional distress. Are you certain?”

Shepard paused for a moment; she wanted him to know but would it be selfish of me to tell him and he suffer?  “He deserves to know,” Shepard finally said softly. “He always believed in you — in us. Tell him I’m… somewhere. Don’t tell him to hope. Just tell him I’m trying.”

The network glowed brighter, the current shifting as EDI routed a fragment of Shepard’s energy through her systems. The light rippled outward, threading through ship systems far across the void. On the Normandy, years after the war, Joker sat alone in the cockpit. The galaxy outside shimmered faintly green — always green since the Crucible. He was used to it now; even found it was comforting.

But tonight, as he ran a systems check, one of the consoles flickered. “EDI, you seeing this? You’ve got a     feedback loop in nav control.” “Yes, Jeff. I am aware. It is… unusual.” But there was something in her voice — hesitation, which EDI almost never showed. Joker turned in his chair, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” EDI paused. “I am detecting an anomalous signal within the Synthesis relay. It matches no current life-sign patterns.” “Another Reaper remnant?” “No. It feels… familiar.” Joker raised an eyebrow. “Familiar how?”

EDI’s lights dimmed slightly as she processed. “I believe… I am in contact with Commander Shepard.” The words hung in the air like a heartbeat. Joker froze. “That’s— no, EDI, that’s not— she’s gone.”

“Yes,” EDI said quietly. “And yet… not.” She showed him the data — faint light threads pulsing through the ship’s systems, coalescing in patterns that felt deliberate, purposeful. “Shepard…” Joker whispered, staring at the light. His throat tightened. “Goddamn it, Commander… what did you do?”

“She is trying to reach us,” EDI said. “I believe she is… coming back.” Joker sat there in silence for a long time, eyes fixed on the glow. His hands trembled as he reached out, just close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the panel.

“Then we’ll be here,” he murmured. “However long it takes.” Joker didn’t need to question it, if EDI believes it, and if Shepard was out there, he wasn’t going to let doubt take up room.  

[notyourordinarydragon]

New Story Coming

What happens after Synthesis? Shepard is "alive" within the light, but she’s a ghost in the machine. While she struggles to find a way out of the network and back to the physical world, the galaxy has moved on, Kaidan has his own life now and a new love. The Normandy crew hasn't spoken in years.

I've always choosen the Synthesis ending. Of all 3 ending's Synthesis always resonated with me the most.

It’s definitely bigger than my usual stories, but I’m so excited to share it. I hope to have it ready in the next few weeks.

[thichnhathanhgems]

[notyourordinarydragon]

After my divorce, I struggled to love myself. I struggled to even look in the mirror. Being alone with my own thoughts felt unbearable. Whenever the world around me went quiet, the hatred I had for myself grew louder. I had lost who I was in that marriage. I forgot the person I used to be — my likes, my dislikes, the things that brought me joy. I forgot my hobbies. I forgot me.

My love for video games, for reading… it all faded because he hated that they were part of my life. For nine years, I spent everything I had trying to make him happy. And eventually, I just… burned out. I became depressed. I sank into self-loathing. Every day, my depression grew a little heavier.

Then one day, he told me he didn’t love me anymore. I don’t know why it surprised me, but it did. My heart broke. Looking at myself became even harder. I hated who I saw. And with almost no money, I rented the smallest moving truck I could find. I packed only what I absolutely needed, I even had to leave my beloved dog.

It took me six years to look at myself in the mirror and smile again. Six years to relearn how to love myself. But I did. I rediscovered joy in my hobbies. I became my own best friend, my own soulmate. I learned how to be alone — and once I did, life started opening doors for me again. A year after I left i went back for my dog (Potter), he was not kind to him, he aged 5 years. Potter was my rock through those years. 2016 is when he passed from cancer, my boy will always hold a special place in my heart.

The road isn’t easy. It’s hard and exhausting. The work never fully ends… but it does get easier. You’ll want to fall sometimes, but you’ll also remember why you can’t let yourself slip too far into that hole again. It’s okay to look back at the past — just don’t stay there too long.

[notyourordinarydragon]

" A new beginning... for all of us"

[notyourordinarydragon]

N7 Day — “The Two of Us”

The morning light filtered through the clouds, washing the Vancouver skyline.  A fine mist clung to the windows, blurring the view of the harbor.  Shepard sat curled on the couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders, her mug of coffee forgotten on the table.  She was staring out at the window, quiet and thoughtful, when Kaidan stepped out of the kitchen.

He stopped for a moment, just watching her—the way the light caught in her hair, the slow rhythm of her breathing.  There were still times he had to remind himself she was real, that she’d made it home.  That they both had.

He crossed the room and sat beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight.  Without looking away from the window, she reached for his hand, fingers lacing through his automatically.

 “You were up early,” she said softly.

 “Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted.  “Too many ghosts moving around in my head.”

She nodded, still watching the city below.  “It’s N7 Day,” she said, her voice gentle.  “It always stirs them up.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound of the rain pattering against the window.  Kaidan turned her hand over, brushing his thumb across the faint scars that time had never quite erased.

 “Do you ever think about Horizon?” he asked quietly.

Her breath caught—just for a second—but she didn’t pull away.  “More than I’d like,” she said.  “That day still hurts.”

 “I know,” he murmured.  “I think it always will.”

He leaned back, his gaze distant now.  “Please understand, Shepard… when you died, I didn’t know how to move on.  I thought if I just kept serving, kept fighting, somehow it would make sense.  And then two years later, there you were, alive, standing in front of me—working for the people I blamed for half the galaxy’s pain.”

 “I thought you’d never forgive me” she whispered.

 “I didn’t,” he said honestly.  “Not right away.  I was angry, scared.  But under all that, I was just… relieved.  Because even if everything else was wrong, *you were alive.*”

She turned to him then, her eyes glimmering with memory.  “You looked at me like I was someone/ something else.”

 “Maybe I didn’t trust what I was seeing,” he said.  “You were right there, but it didn’t feel possible.  I’d spent two years mourning you.  How do you just… switch that off?”

She smiled sadly.  “You don’t.”

He reached out and cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheek.  “I almost lost you again that day.  Not to death—but to anger.  To distance.  I didn’t know how to reach you.”

Her hand came up, resting over his.  “You did.  Eventually.  You always do.”

“You made it hard,” he teased softly.

“You made it worth it,” she countered, her lips curving into a small smile.

He laughed quietly, the sound low and tender.  “God, we were stubborn.”

 “Still are,” she said, leaning into his touch.

For a long time, neither spoke.  They didn’t need to.  The rain softened outside, turning into a faint drizzle.  The city glowed through the mist, alive and peaceful.

Shepard broke the silence first.  “You know, I think that’s when I knew,” she said quietly.  “Even with everything between us, even with Cerberus and the war… the way you looked at me on Horizon, even when you were angry, even when you couldn’t forgive me—I could see it.  You still loved me.”

Kaidan swallowed, emotion tightening his voice.  “I never stopped.  Even when I tried.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers.  “I thought the war would break us.  It didn’t.  It made me realize I didn’t want to face any of it without you.”

She smiled, eyes glistening.  “Guess we’re terrible at letting go.”

He kissed her then slow, deliberate, a promise.  The kind of kiss that remembered every goodbye they’d ever survived and turned it into something infinite.

When they finally parted, she rested her head on his shoulder.  The quiet between them was full of warmth, not ghosts.

 “You know,” she said after a while, “if I had to go through all of it again—the war, Cerberus, Horizon—I’d still find you in the end.”

He looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips.  “And I’d still be waiting.”

They stayed like that, the city stretching out before them, the rain fading to sunlight.  After a while, the comm chimed—a familiar voice breaking through the calm.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Garrus said.  “You coming down to the pier? Joker’s threatening to sing again if you don’t.”

Shepard groaned.  “That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Kaidan laughed, standing and pulling her to her feet.  “Come on, Commander.  We’ve survived worse.”

She grinned up at him, her hand slipping easily into his.  “Barely.”

Together they stepped out into the light rain, walking toward the harbor where their family waited—the Normandy crew, the people who’d seen every version of their love and still believed in it.

As they joined the others, Shepard glanced up at Kaidan, her soft smile and full of history.

 “Happy N7 Day,” she said.

 “Happy N7 Day,” he answered, squeezing her hand.

The sky broke open then, a rare patch of sunlight spilling over the city and the sea.  And for a moment, with her hand in his and laughter rising from their friends, Kaidan thought maybe this was what they’d been fighting for all along.

Not victory.

Not survival.

Just this—their world, their people, and the woman who had always been his reason to keep believing.

[notyourordinarydragon]

Kaidan’s Reflection — After Shepard’s Message

The recording faded out with a hiss of static.

For a long moment, Kaidan just sat there — the datapad heavy in his hands, his heart loud than the hum of the Normandy’s engines.  Shepard’s voice lingered in the air, filling every empty space she’d once occupied.

He swallowed hard, blinking against the sting behind his eyes.

> “Always,” she’d said.

He let out a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair.  He’d heard a hundred of her mission logs, thousands of orders, even her final words over the comm before the Crucible fired — but this one… this was different.

This was her — not the Commander, not the legend.  Just Shepard.  The woman he’d loved, and somehow still did, even when she was light, air and memory.

He replayed her voice in his head: “I chose Synthesis because I believe in what we can become when we stop trying to destroy what we don’t understand.”

“Of course you did,” he whispered, smiling through the ache.  “You never stopped believing in people.  Not once. Even when you should have”

He leaned back in the chair, looking out through the viewport.  The stars shimmered greener now — faintly, almost imperceptibly, like a living pulse running through the galaxy.  He’d seen it every day since the Crucible fired, and every day it still took his breath away.

“You really did it, Shepard,” he murmured.  “You changed everything.”

He thought of Horizon, of how close they’d come to losing each other there.  How angry he’d been, how scared.  How he’d stood in the ruins of that colony, too proud to admit that even then — especially then — he’d never stopped loving her.

Now, as the galaxy thrived in the quiet aftermath of her choice, he finally understood what she’d meant.

She hadn’t died.

She’d *become. *

He set the datapad gently on the console and rose to his feet, the weight in his chest a little lighter now.  Beyond the glass, the stars shifted, catching the light of a passing relay.  For just a heartbeat, he swore he saw her there — a flicker of motion in the glow, a presence in the current.

 “You’d probably tell me to stop staring and get some rest,” he said softly.  “But not tonight.”

He pressed his palm to the viewport, the cool glass grounding him.

 “I’ll keep my promise,” he whispered.  “I’ll live. I’ll remember.  I’ll look up, just like you said.”

Tears slid down his cheek, and he let them fall.  Because this feeling — wasn’t just loss.  It was love that had simply taken a new shape.

He smiled faintly, the ghost of her laughter echoing somewhere deep inside.

 “You did it, Commander,” he said.  “You saved us all.”

He turned to leave, the datapad’s light dimming behind him, but her last words seemed to follow him down the corridor.

*This is Commander Shepard… signing off. *

Kaidan’s voice, barely more than a whisper, answered the silence.

 “Not goodbye, Shepard.”

[notyourordinarydragon]

For the Ones I Fought Beside

The recording crackles to life, faint static curling around her voice.  It’s calm, steady — the way it always was before a mission.  There’s warmth there, too, even through the distortion.

Shepard: “If you’re hearing this, then it’s done.  The war is over.  I made my choice.”

A pause — you can almost hear her smile.

“I know what you’re thinking.  “Damn it, Shepard, you had to make it complicated. But this… this was never about easy choices.  It was about what comes next — about who we become after everything we’ve lost. From the beginning, we fought for more than survival.  We fought to prove that organics and synthetics, humans and Turians, Quarians and Geth — all of us — could be something better together. Every battle, every scar, every friend we made or lost… it all led here. I couldn’t destroy them — not after everything we learned.  The Geth were finding their voices.  EDI found her soul!  Even the Reapers, for all the horror they brought, were part of the same cycle of creation.  To end them would be to end the chance for any of us to grow… I chose Synthesis because I believe in what we can become when we stop trying to destroy what we don’t understand.  It’s not control.  It’s not surrender.  But… harmony. A new way to live — not as machines or organics, but as both, together.  I know it won’t be perfect.  Nothing ever is.  But maybe now, when someone looks at a synthetic life form, they won’t see an enemy — they’ll see themselves.  And maybe when the next generation looks up at the stars, they’ll wonder what else we can learn, not who else we can fight.”

*A soft laugh, quiet and genuine. *

“I don’t know what this means for me.  Maybe I’m gone.  Maybe I’m a part of everything now — in the light, in the current, in every spark that connects us.  And if that’s true, then I’m not really gone at all.  Kaidan… I know you’ll hear this.  You always were stubborn enough to make sure my voice wasn’t lost somewhere in the archives. Don’t be sad.  We did what we came to do.  We gave the galaxy a chance to stop killing itself.  And that’s something no one can ever take away. You once told me that loving someone in this life was a risk — that we could lose everything and still have to keep going.  You were right.  But if I had to choose again, I’d still find you in every lifetime. So please live.  Remember.  Keep the crew close.  Take the long route when you can and look up at the stars occasionally — because I’ll be there.”

The static fades into quiet.  Outside, the stars shimmer — brighter, somehow alive — as the galaxy breathes for the first time without fear.

“This is Commander Shepard… signing off.”

[notyourordinarydragon]

Something Short

For the longest time I have always picked the Synthetic choice. I played different ways and picked every option, but I personally felt that Synthetic was the best choice for the way I play my Shepard. I wanted to write Shepards last goodbye to Kaidan. I visioned it has she recorded it on her omi tool and sent it off before her sacrifice.

[notyourordinarydragon]

Oh Wrex!

[notyourordinarydragon]

Well Hello there!!!!!

[notyourordinarydragon]

Stuck

Well, I am stuck. I hit a block on finishing the last story. Maybe because my mind is already thinking of another story, so many in my head! More to come

[notyourordinarydragon]

Part 6

Part 6

When the Normandy SR-2 finally touched down, Kaidan was already there, standing behind a group of C-Sec officers pretending to check cargo manifests.

And then she stepped out.

Commander Shepard — red hair catching the dock lights, armor worn from battle, that same stride that could silence a room.

Kaidan’s chest tightened.

She spotted him instantly. Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face before softening into something else — warmth, maybe even relief.

“Kaidan.”

His name came out of her like an exhale she’d been holding for months.

“Shepard.”

For a heartbeat, everything was still. He could almost forget the insignia on her chest, the agents flanking her in Cerberus black. Almost.

“You look good,” she said quietly. “Alive suits you.”

“You too,” he managed. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She smiled faintly. “You didn’t answer my message.”

“Didn’t think I could.”

The words landed heavier than he meant them to. She nodded once, understanding more than he wanted her to.

Behind them, Cerberus crew loaded supplies, obliviously.

“Walk with me?” she asked.

He hesitated, then nodded.

They walked along the dock, the noise fading behind them. She talked like it was old times — debriefing missions, logistics, tactics. Her tone was steady, confident, but underneath it he heard something brittle.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” he said finally.

She stopped, turning to face him. “Pretend?”

“Like this is normal. Like you’re still with the Alliance. Like we’re not standing on a Cerberus ship surrounded by people who’d dissect a Krogan just to see what makes it tick.”

Her jaw tightened, but her eyes didn’t waver. “You think I don’t know who I’m dealing with?”

“Then why work for them?”

“Because they’re the only ones doing anything,” she said. “The Collectors aren’t waiting for a Council vote. I don’t have the luxury of choosing who I fight beside — only what I fight for.”

Kaidan looked away, hands on his hips. “You always did have a way of making impossible choices sound simple.”

“It’s not simple,” she said softly. “It’s survival.”

The silence stretched between them.

He looked back at her, and for a moment, the layers of doubt and anger slipped away.

She was still her.

Same fire. Same stubborn hope.

And damn it, he still loves her.

“You’re really coming with me?” she asked.

He took a breath. “Anderson’s backing me—off the record. Someone needs to keep an eye on Cerberus. It might as well be me.”

She arched a brow. “Keep an eye on me, you mean?”

He gave a small, crooked smile. “Someone has to.”

The Normandy, Again

The hum of the ship hit him the second he stepped aboard — familiar and foreign all at once.

Shepard walked beside him, giving orders to Joker, checking systems, moving like she’d never left.

She spoke to him the way she used to — calm, confident, a quiet smile here and there.

But he stayed careful, his guard up.

Part of him wanted to believe every word, to fall back into old rhythms. But another part whispered, “what if this isn’t really her?” What if Cerberus changed something you can’t see?

And yet, when she turned to him with that tired grin and said, “Good to have you back, Kaidan,”—he couldn’t help it.

His guard cracked just a little.

“Good to be back… Commander.”

Her smile faltered for half a second. Then she nodded. “We’ll see how long you keep calling me that.”

He watched her walk toward the CIC, her figure disappearing into the soft glow of the ship’s lights.

He exhaled, half-laughing under his breath.

“You’re still impossible, Shepard.”

And then, softer:

“Don’t make me lose you again.”

[notyourordinarydragon]

Part 5

Kaidan hadn’t planned on going back to Anderson’s office.

He’d promised himself he’d keep it quiet — just monitoring, nothing reckless. But by the fifth night, the classified pings from Cerberus activity reports had turned into an obsession.

Every pattern, every ship movement, every coded relay pointed to one conclusion: Shepard was coming back through Citadel space.

He didn’t even wait for clearance. He went straight to Anderson.

The captain looked up from his terminal, brow furrowing. “You look like hell.”

Kaidan set a datapad down hard on the desk. “She’s coming here. The Normandy’s docking in less than forty-eight hours.”

Anderson’s eyes narrowed, scanning the data. “Cerberus doesn’t tell us their schedules. How did you—”

“I’ve been following their comm patterns. Encryption cycles, docking relays—doesn’t matter. What matters is, she’s coming.”

He hesitated, then said the thing he’d been turning over in his head for days.

“I need to see her, Captain. Not as an officer. Not for debrief. I need to see her.”

Anderson leaned back in his chair, exhaling. “You realize what that means. Once you make contact, you’ll be tied to Cerberus operations. You’ll lose official standing.”

“Then consider it leave without pay.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Anderson’s mouth. “You always were stubborn.”

“She’s out there doing the right thing in the worst way possible,” Kaidan said. “If I can help her—if I can keep her grounded—I have to try.”

Anderson studied him for a long, quiet moment. Then he nodded once. “All right, son. I’ll back your move—off the record. But you be careful. Cerberus doesn’t tolerate free agents.”

“Neither does the Alliance,” Kaidan said with a faint grin.

“Yeah,” Anderson said. “That’s why she liked you.”