For the kiss prompt: in the snow, missing the other. Pls n ty 🙏
Shepard likes the quiet, these days.
For someone who has always thrived on movement and energy, chaos and noise, learning this new side of him is like getting to know him all over again. Sometimes it’s unsettling. He retreats, disappears into his own head, gets stuck in events he can’t change instead of living the life he was willing to give up, then fought so hard to keep.
Kaidan’s navigating this new Shepard as best he can, but he’s not sure yet when to let that silence protect him and when he needs to leave it behind, be coaxed back into the present.
They’ve talked about going back to the Citadel. Making a home on a colony somewhere, the less scarred by the reapers, the better. Maybe forgetting isn’t the right way to heal, but sometimes it feels like the easier one. After a lifetime of fighting and taking the hard road, Kaidan is forced to admit the easy way has some appeal. But for the kid who’d grown up on ships, Shepard has been surprisingly reluctant to leave Earth.
So they’ve stayed.
A lifetime of perfectly climate controlled environments definitely hasn’t endeared Shepard to Earth’s changing weather, but he sure likes scenery. During the summer he practically lived on the porch swing staring out at the apple trees. Sometimes he sat lost in his own thoughts, other times lost in Kaidan, who would hold him close or just stroke his face while his head rested in Kaidan’s lap.
Kaidan had taken him to Banff during the fall, where they’d hiked through Larch Valley and stared at the shocks of yellow and orange leaves against the backdrop of snow already gathered on the mountains. Shepard hadn’t said much then, either, still lost in places Kaidan can’t go as often as he isn’t, but he smiled more. The silences were less about retreating and more about living, reveling in what they’d been able to save.
Shepard’s fascination with the trees at Banff is what inspires Kaidan to bring him to Sequoia once winter comes on in full force. They stay at a small lodge – Shepard had definitely spoke up to say “fuck camping” when Kaidan mentioned it – and the morning after they arrive Kaidan takes him by the hand as they wander along the Congress trail. Snow crunches under their feet as dozens of massive sequoia trees loom over their heads, eternal and silent, snow frosting their evergreen tips.
Kaidan snaps a photo of Shepard standing at the base of one, hands jammed into the pockets of his jacket, head craned as he stares up into the branches that have been seeking sunlight for hundreds of years.
“Never seen anything like this,” Shepard murmurs when Kaidan takes his hand again. “It’s beautiful.”
Kaidan nods. Leans his head against Shepard’s.
They exist hand in hand in the silence of the trees, cocooned in the soft whisper of wind and fresh flakes of snow drifting down from the sky.
When Kaidan looks at him again, Shepard’s gaze is unfocused. Absent. He’s gone again. Existing wherever he goes when the pain and the guilt and the weight become too much.
“Sam,” Kaidan murmurs. “Hey. Come back to me. I miss you.”
Shepard blinks, squeezes Kaidan’s hand and gives him a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry,” he says, voice gruff.
“Talk to me. Do you want to go?”
Shepard looks back at the trees and shakes his head. “I just…I never expected to see any of this. It was supposed to be for everyone else. And a lot of those people aren’t…here.”
Kaidan swallows. Traps Shepard’s chin in his fingers and turns his head to kiss him, pouring warmth into his cold lips.
“I’m here,” he whispers. “I know it’s selfish, but if I had to be here without you I wouldn’t enjoy any of it.”
Kaidan doesn’t like to think about how much of the galaxy he would have been willing to give up to have Shepard here beside him. He’s always been a greater good kind of guy.
Shepard strokes Kaidan’s forehead with a finger. A flake of snow gets caught in his eyelashes until he blinks it away. Without a word, he pulls Kaidan into an embrace, his breath a cloud of warm mist against Kaidan’s neck.
They stand together in the snow, witnessed only by silent sentinels that have stood for centuries, untouched by the reapers. There’s less pain in that silence now, though. More hope.
When Shepard lets him go, he takes Kaidan’s hand and walks to the trunk of the tree, where he places a palm flat against the ancient bark. Kaidan rests his hand over Shepard’s, trying to live in the moment and not think about how stupid it was not to bring gloves.
“I’m here,” Shepard says softly. “With you. And I’m not going anywhere.”
