Long Train Runnin’, pt. 10
In which Shepard buys Kaidan that drink and Kaidan has a headache.
4.7k and T this chapter, by jokerondeck and myself. first chapter (AO3) | this chapter (AO3)
notes: I’m posting since Charley is off at Otakon doing her fantastic Commander Shepard cosplay. this is almost all wrapped up, only one or two more chapters to go, friends. enjoy!
"And that's how Shepard managed to arrest a man with only a highlighter," Garrus ends with a flourish, pointing his finger-pistol at the man in question while Kaidan and Tali laugh. Even Shepard is smiling over his fries, though a blush sits high on his cheeks as he glances at Kaidan, his features softened and happy in the low light of the pub, his eyes sparkling, and Kaidan can't help thinking he's as handsome as he's ever been, if not more so.
It was Garrus' idea to come here, to some pub Kaidan doesn't even remember the name of—probably because it's so much closer to Garrus and Tali's place than his and Shepard's—for the four of them to eat some good greasy food and have a couple drinks. Or more than a couple drinks, as is Tali's current predicament. He and Shepard are only buzzed, Garrus only one drink ahead of them, but Tali is already bordering on drunk, that slur to her accent and particular giggle of hers that he knows well enough from their college days to indicate her rapidly declining level of sobriety.
All in all, the night has been perfect—Shepard meeting him just outside the bar with Tali and Garrus already inside, being lead in by him with a hand to his lower back for the briefest of moments, ordering a reuben and fries, only for half of those fries to be eaten by Shepard while Kaidan and Tali share some stories of their antics through college, even that one time Tali had to make a decoy to distract the campus police while they pedaled away on their bikes as fast as one human and one quarian could manage.
But now the night is winding down and so are the stories, and Garrus' mandibles are doing that thing as he looks at Tali, considering her state and deciding it's as good a time as any to call it quits. One by one they get up to close out their tabs, and by the time Kaidan arrives back at the table, having been the last one to close out, the other three are standing up from their seats and stretching out.
"I have to use the restroom before I go," Shepard announces, "But you guys can go on home." With that, Shepard bids them good night and promptly disappears behind a doorway close to one end of the bar. As Garrus and Tali begin toward the door, Kaidan waves them off.
"You two can go," he explains, "Shep and I have to go back a different way than you anyway." Garrus makes this little chuckling sound, mandibles doing that flailing thing once again, and Tali tilts her head at him in what might actually be a smile behind the helmet.
"I'm glad you two made up," Tali says, leaning toward him and putting a hand on his forearm to give it a quick squeeze. "I think you're good for him."
"You're not the first one to tell me that," Kaidan replies a little shyly, glancing at Garrus.
"And am I usually wrong?" Garrus inquires in a half-laugh, making Kaidan chuckles just a little.
"Yes," Tali intones, and Kaidan laughs a little harder at how offended the turian looks before telling them to be safe on their way back home, waving them off again at the door.
After maybe another minute or so, which Kaidan spends taking the last of the fries off his plate that Shepard didn't manage to steal, the man himself reappears, half-jogging up to Kaidan, all smiles as he says, "You waited."
"Sure," Kaidan half-laughs, "We're going the same way, after all," and together they walk out of the bar and down the street, back to home.
Walking back with Shepard now, the quiet chatter of the late-night streets all around them, Kaidan can only think of going to Apollo's—seeing Tali again for the first time in years, jokes and stories passed between all three of them, how Shepard looked in that leather jacket that is unfortunately too hot to wear in the current weather, Shepard walking him inside and giving him the tightest, warmest hug, then leaving him at the door with a playlist and an insinuation about the importance of the last song. If not for Finch and Kai Leng, the night would have been completely perfect, like tonight was, even if Shepard isn’t wearing that jacket.
“We’ve had a few drinks,” Kaidan says a little suddenly, making Shepard glance at him and hum a little questioningly. “How about we go to the park and sit for a while?” To that, Shepard tips his head in what is a manner of shrugging in agreement, so Kaidan turns them towards the closest park, only a few minutes away.
It’s a turian park this time, with trees and flowers and other flora Kaidan recognises from the one time he and several other marines were to attend a formal ceremony on Palaven. Where they’d ended up naturally didn’t have many trees or plants being in the heart of a city, but there were several rooms he’d wandered into during his stay that had various types of greenery, some even blue and purple or otherwise. Still, he doesn’t know the names of any of them, so it’s not like he can impress Shepard with the knowledge anyway.
Wandering through the park, Kaidan eventually finds a bench and sits, Shepard following suit after him, bumping their arms together on his way down, and it might have been an accident if not for the way Shepard doesn’t really move away after, and how Kaidan doesn’t mind that he doesn’t. Remaining close is just fine by him.
For a while, they simply sit together and watch people go by, their hands in their pockets and their elbows just barely touching, but eventually Kaidan says what he wants to say.
“I guess I promised you a story for a few drinks, huh?”
Shepard turns his head only slightly to look at him, seeming to consider his statement for some time before saying, “You did. I’d been wondering what you meant about that program you were in—what you told me sounded pretty serious, but it seemed like there was something more.”
Kaidan tips his head back, taking in a breath to steady himself just a little for what he knows he’s going to say. It happened years ago and he’s come to terms with it, but thinking about it and actually sharing it with a close friend is something else entirely, a symbol of trust in that friendship and a way of explaining who he was, who he has come to be.
“The program… started with good intentions,” he begins. “I guess I did, too, but... human biotics were a pretty new thing back then so no one had any idea how to deal with us or train us properly, so the Alliance recruited some turian instructors, which is all well and good, if a little strict for a bunch of fifteen year-olds who’d just been separated from their families.
“Anyway, there was a girl I met there, another biotic—Rahna. She and I became friends, and I guess… I mean, I would have done just about anything for her.” He pauses, scrubbing a hand across his jawline, feeling the beginnings of stubble there. “We weren’t supposed to be sending outside communications, but I hadn’t spoken to my parents in a year and I... well, Rahna and I sent one using a makeshift transmitter. One of the instructors—Vyrnnus—found out about the transmitter and punished us all for it, making us train til we were exhausted.
“We were all exhausted from using our biotics, and Rahna, she… when she reached for a glass of water using her hand instead of her biotics, Vyrnnus broke her arm for being ‘pathetic.’ I lashed out at him, and… by the end of it, I broke more than just his arm.” He pauses again, ticking his jaw to one side and looking out at the people passing by—humans, turians, hanar—all going about their business, keeping their business their own while he’s here sharing his life story with Shepard.
“After that, the program was shut down and Rahna never really talked to me again. It hurt, but I don’t really blame her. When I turned eighteen I joined the Alliance and shipped out, tried to change myself for the better. And now… now you’re all caught up,” he finishes, repeating the phrase Shepard had used when he shared the story of his youth and finally turning to look at the man next to him.
“I’m sorry,” Shepard offers, but Kaidan merely shrugs a little.
“It’s okay. It made me realise a lot of things, made me who I am. I just wanted to be honest with you.”
It takes Shepard a moment, his blue eyes looking into Kaidan’s and studying him, taking in what he’s just said and what he means. That he wants Shepard to trust him again, too. He seems to realise it, a warm, slow smile building on his lips, an unvoiced thank you, and Kaidan smiles back at him, easy and just as grateful.
“So, how was work today?” He asks, trying to make this a lot less of a one-sided story-telling, and for some reason Shepard laughs; the two of them talk about their day, Kaidan’s weekend plans before Shepard sighs and remembers he actually has to work tomorrow, and all feels right in the world again, until weeks later when Kaidan feels the world tilt just a little to the side, less to do with Shepard and more to do with the impending threat of him losing his balance for a few hours.
He’s in his last class of the day, leaning against his desk as all of his students rise to place their homework next to him and leave, and he knows. Somehow, he just knows, always seems to figure out when a migraine is about to begin. Especially the bad ones. It starts as a feeling, something you notice but can't place, like your whole world has been shifted two inches to the left. You know something is wrong and you know what it means, but you can't quite tell how you know.
The second sign he receives just as he exits the building, backpack over his shoulder and papers all shuffled away, appearing as dark horizontal lines that blur across the edges of his vision, his implant starting to tingle and pulse against his skin, echoing down his arms so the rhythmic pins-and-needles starts up in his fingertips. He clenches and unclenches his hand, picking up his pace and hoping to shake it off until he can get home. At this rate, the feeling creeping up his arm, progressing this quickly, he's not sure he will.
By the time he's standing on the landing of the subway terminal, he can feel it in his jaw, lancing into his teeth, and all he can do is stare straight off into the tile on the other side of the tracks, hoping he can make it at least inside his front door before he passes out completely.
"Kaidan," a deep, familiar voice says, a hand clutching his arm, and he has to shake himself mentally—a regrettable motion, even inside his mind—to look at the person.
"Shepard," he exhales in greeting, looking over the wrinkles of concern on the detective's brow.
"Are you okay?" Shepard asks, eyes flitting around Kaidan's face, taking it all in, and Kaidan can't tell if he's speaking in a normal volume or in a soft tone that only sounds so loud in his current state because of the ringing in his ears.
"I'm alright," he answers like he normally would—headaches this bad aren’t the norm for him, but they’re not unusual. By now he’s used to dealing with them. No need to worry Shepard. "Just a bit of a headache." This doesn't seem to convince Shepard much, but then the train comes roaring into the station, leaving him without the chance to say much in protest either way.
Still, they take their seats together, and Kaidan can't tell if Shepard is looming over him or if it's the headache playing tricks on him. It both annoys him to think that Shepard needs to get in his space and makes him feel just a little bit hopeful, like he used to all those weeks ago, now over two months past, and nearing three.
Across the way, Kaidan catches the eye of an older human woman he thinks he should recognize, especially given how she's smiling at him and Shepard.
"I'm glad to see you and your boyfriend back together," she comments to him.
"Thank you," he says before he can really think better of it, but right now thinking is the problem, because even that makes the headache thrum viciously. The woman merely nods, still smiling, before looking away and off to other things. Shepard isn't moving on to other things like Kaidan would like him—no, instead, Shepard is still looking at him, except Kaidan can't bringing himself to look back, only partially because turning his head would exacerbate everything.
A hand settles on his forearm, gentle and warm, another hand being cupped and offered to him as Shepard says, "I think you should take these."
"I don't want any medicine," he declines, not needing to look at Shepard's hand to know what he's offering because that's what everyone offers and what he never accepts.
"It's not medicine," Shepard murmurs, moving his hand closer to Kaidan, but he can only glance down briefly before the pain lances through his skull. "It’s my headphones. They’re noise-cancelling when put on together. Take them.”
“I’m fine,” he tries again, actually turning his head toward Shepard as if to prove something, but it only makes it worse, and he knows Shepard won’t be convinced. When he glances at him, the man only has a placid expression on his face, and somehow it’s comforting, so in the end, he reaches out, fingers arching over Shepard’s, and takes the headphones.
“I’m going to hold your hand,” Shepard says as he puts in one headphone.
“What?” Kaidan fumbles the word out, not because he didn’t hear Shepard and wants him to speak up—if anything, the world can afford to be a little quieter—but because he can’t believe that.
“What I mean is, every time the pain gets really bad, squeeze my hand, okay? It’ll help take your mind off it.”
“I just have a headache, Shepard, I’m not giving birth,” he grumbles, putting in the other headphone and drowning out the world before Shepard can reply, but then the second headphone is in and Shepard’s fingers are curling around his, knuckle to knuckle as they intertwine and lace together, and the world fades out for a few different reasons other than Kaidan’s vision blurring around the edges.
Distantly, Kaidan realises this is the first time they’ve held hands, and of course it’d be for something like this instead of… well, something else.
With the noise dissipated almost completely thanks to the headphones, Kaidan finds himself grounded, Shepard’s warm palm under his hand an anchor, a needed distraction from the pain. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to focus on everything he’s feeling externally—the train moving forward and their momentum pulling them back, the feel of the seat and his backpack next to him, the weight of it leaning against him. How every once in a while, Shepard’s thumb gently strokes the side of his hand like Shepard himself isn't paying attention to the action, only to realise and stop.
It might be the fact that Kaidan is busy focusing on not passing out on the subway, or maybe that he’s achieving that by focusing on Shepard, but it feels like only minutes later that they arrive at their station, Shepard giving his hand a little tug to let him know they’ve arrived and to stand up with him. When Kaidan raises his free hand to begin taking out the headphones and hand them back to his friend, Shepard only gives the hand he’s holding a little squeeze, speaking softly to him as they step off the train, Kaidan squinting against the harsh white light of the subway terminal. “Go ahead and keep them in. You can close your eyes if you want—I’ll get us home. Just squeeze if it gets bad and I’ll redirect.”
“I’ll do that,” Kaidan states tiredly, closing his eyes briefly and pressing a thumb under his brow, right into the gap of bone above his eye to push back the pain and try not to think about how Shepard said I’ll get us home, like there’s an us and an implied mutual home for both of them.
Shepard leads them slowly out of the terminal and up the stairs, ascending them being the only time Kaidan thinks he should really keep his eyes open. At the top, he closes them again, pressing his hand over his eyes again and saying, “Can we go a little faster?” Shepard only gives his hand a gentle press—or maybe he replied but Kaidan can’t hear him over the combined efforts of the headphones and the building migraine—but his steps quicken. Kaidan follows along, every once in a while peeking just a little to see where they are but mostly only seeing Shepard walking just a little in front of him, the image of their entwined hands. It’s a shame he’s forced to close them before he can commit the image to memory because some areas of town are too brightly lit or too full of chatter and the headphones can only do so much.
After what feels like about two-thirds of their way home, Kaidan stops suddenly as the pain causes the world to tilt drastically to one side. He reaches out with his free hand to place it on Shepard's forearm, who stopped as well thanks to their laced fingers. When he tries to open his eyes to look at his friend, offer him an explanation, he finds he can't because the halos around all the lights are too large, too intense, and he has to wrench his eyes back shut as the brightness becomes pain.
"Give me a moment," he manages to get out while using the rest of his energy to force the dizziness away, because they're only a few minutes out from his apartment—just make it those last few minutes and you're home-free.
But Shepard seems to know exactly what he needs, tugging his hand and Kaidan stumbling along with it off to the side. He stops eventually, and Kaidan can feel the other man turning bodily to face him, Shepard's free hand appearing on his upper arm as if to say you can rest now, and then that hand is snaking around to his back, tugging him in, and Kaidan is letting himself be tugged in, until he feels the warmth of Shepard's chest against his own. His head drops of its own accord—or maybe that's just how dizzy he is—to find purchase on Shepard's shoulder so he can rest and recuperate and try not to think too desperately about how nice this would be if the pain weren’t making his mind so fuzzy.
After a few minutes of letting the dizziness run its course, he turns his head away from Shepard, keeping his temple where his forehead was, and opens his eyes to find out where they are. As he does, the strange mix of absurdity and absolute normalcy of the situation hits him. To anyone passing by, this would probably look like a post-dinner-date rendezvous in a dark alley, instead of a guy with a migraine so bad he'd rather cut out his own brain than be alive being lead home by a friend so aforementioned guy doesn't end up passed out in a gutter somewhere. It was a smart move on Shepard's part, he realises—anyone passing by would see them and refuse to turn down the alley for a shortcut, leaving the space dark and quiet as can be. For that, Kaidan is mixed embarrassed and grateful, turning his head back on Shepard's shoulder to press his forehead there again, all this head-turning and eye-opening business having made the dizziness surge again.
A few more minutes pass, and Kaidan feels Shepard move a little, the hand rubbing his back slowly ceasing—when did it even start? Kaidan must be more out of it than he thought or was willing to admit before—right before a breath of air is huffed against his ear, like maybe Shepard is saying something to him.
Kaidan raises his head, saying, "I'm good now," having guessed what Shepard said to be a how are you feeling. He could have said just about anything. Kaidan can't hear thanks to the headphones and Shepard’s whispering, anyway.
Either way, they take a step apart from one another—if a little reluctantly on Kaidan's part, migraine or not—and begin the rest of this arduous journey home.
They arrive to Kaidan's building sooner than expected, Shepard having kept up his quick pace, and Kaidan finally drops Shepard's hand and takes out the headphones, handing them back to the man they belong to. This neighborhood is always quiet—Kaidan chose it for a reason—so he knows he'll be able to make it the rest of the way. He uses his omni-tool to swipe them into his building as fast as possible, because even the gentle orange glow of the dimly-lit tool is enough to make his skull ring with pain again, throwing off his balance and his stomach as he shuffles a little dizzily into the building at last, Shepard following.
"Where are your keys?" Shepard's voice is only a whisper against his ear, a gentle breath on the side of his neck. He hasn't said anything else until now, probably thinking being quiet in front of Kaidan's migraine is for the best, and for that Kaidan is grateful, but he feels a flare of anger when he has to suppress a shiver at the idea of Shepard so close to him again, caring and concerned, because the effort to tamp down his feelings makes his head pound something fierce.
Still, Kaidan knows his place, and he still has enough of himself in check to reel it in and let it go in favor of reaching into his backpack, stumbling down the hall a little as his hand clamors around inside in search of his keys. Shepard catches his arm, pulling him upright, steadying him, his other hand coming up to rest against his shoulder so his arm is draped across Kaidan's back to give him support, his voice blessedly gentle when he says, "Let me."
For a moment, Kaidan feels his stubborn side trying to kick up a fight—I can do it myself, Shepard, I did for years before I met Ashley or you, I'm not a child—but the words sound cruel even in his head, so he doesn't dare let them out, trying to focus instead on resisting the tilt of the world and the pain echoing through his jaw, vision sliding and blurring together.
"Ash is out of town but I'll be okay, you know," he says instead, and he isn't sure if Shepard just doesn't hear him because his voice is too low or if Shepard just decided not to say anything. Either way, Shepard's hand is snaking down his arm, pulling Kaidan's fingers out of the pocket of his bag and replacing them with his own to search for his keys. He manages to find them faster than Kaidan could himself right now, and he's thankful for that because the less time they spend out in the brightly lit hall instead of Kaidan burying his head into a mountain of pillows, the better.
Shepard's free hand finds his again, the other sorting through his keys as quietly as possible, and Kaidan knows the drill, squeezing that hand as the world shifts sideways again, pain lancing through his temple and pounding into his jaw, his teeth.
"M358," Kaidan murmurs, "Like the pistol, the Talon."
It takes Shepard a moment, but he seems to sort out what Kaidan means instead of attributing it to pain-induced nonsense, finding the key marked M358 before they even reach the door to Kaidan's apartment.
Shepard quickly gets the door open once they're there, and Kaidan has never been more thankful that their apartment is so dark. Normally with a headache this bad, he ends up bumping into the couch, the counter, the wall, everything in his apartment before he makes it into his bed, his balance thrown off by the pain because he has nothing else to focus on to distract himself. Now, though, he has Shepard to guide and steady him, and the man does just that, leading him down the hall. At the end, he pauses, unsure which closed door leads to Kaidan's bedroom, and Kaidan finishes this journey for them, letting go of Shepard's hand in favour of leaning against his door to open it, stumbling in and catching himself on the edge of the bed.
"M'okay," he mumbles, hearing Shepard's footsteps on the carpet rush forward to help him. He pushes himself upright again, putting a hand over his eyes once he is to press his fingers into the space of bone between eye and brow, pushing the pain back by some equalization of pressure. It's only a partial relief, but Kaidan knows he can handle himself from here, so he turns back to Shepard, trying to focus his energy to convince the detective he's okay enough to be left on his own. "I can... take it from here. Thanks, Shep."
When he doesn't hear the quiet sounds of Shepard's footsteps walking away, he opens his eyes, finding the man before him only shifting from foot to foot, one hand raised to rub the back of his neck. His blue eyes, a cloudy grey in the dark, travel up from the floor to meet Kaidan's, and he tries to give him as soft a reassuring smile as he can. Still, he seems unsure, looking away again, off toward the window, and Kaidan's heart clenches in his chest, making him let out a breath.
"Just... can you get me a glass of water?" Kaidan asks gently, and Shepard leaves the room quickly to do so, allowing Kaidan a moment to himself to sit on the edge of the bed and focus. He wants Shepard to leave, and needs to figure out how to get him to agree. It isn't that he doesn't want Shepard around—quite the opposite—but he doesn't need to see Kaidan like this, not snappish and out of himself and on the verge of throwing up from pain.
As quickly as he left, Shepard returns, kneeling down in front of him to offer him the cool glass of water.
"I think I should stay," he says finally when Kaidan has finished the glass. “In case you need anything else.”
"I'm okay, Shepard," he replies, and he tries to chuckle, but he's sure it comes out flat and unconvincing. From the look Shepard's giving him, it's definitely unconvincing, and from the way his head is pounding erratically, he can tell why Shepard isn't swayed. "I've dealt with this before on my own. I just need to go to sleep and I'll be fine."
It takes a while, but eventually Shepard stands, rubbing the back of his neck again.
"Okay," he says, and Kaidan's head begins pounding double time. Of course. Just as he's gotten Shepard to agree to leave. "Okay. But call me if you need anything, alright?"
Kaidan nods, saying thank you for everything and good night, then finds himself regretting it as he feels his stomach retaliate.
Shit, he thinks, and everything is downhill from there.
