#because yes silence brand i agree on that shit despite my major

[kokiri]

Elon Musk walking into Twitter HQ to commit brand suicide by changing it to X like

[electrickoushi]

bakugo and todoroki’s super secret santa mission

a/n: happy holidays everyone. this was a fic I wrote for one of my friends for xmas. enjoy reading! 

pairing: bakugo katsuki x todoroki shoto tags: fluff, pre-relationship, swearing (a normal amount for bakugo), tdbk in love! wc: 7.8k

Class 1-A's Secret Santa poses a large problem for Bakugo Katsuki. It’s such a large problem that he has to ask for stupid IcyHot's help in finding a present. In return, he helps Todoroki with his present search (and perhaps catches feelings in the process, but shh, we don't talk about that).

The mall was so crowded that Bakugo was having an awful time finding Todoroki. At this time of year, he easily blended in with the horrible, glittery candy cane decorations.

Bakugo found him standing near the children’s play structure. He looked like a lost puppy, spinning around in search of the familiar blonde spikes and scowl. He squinted his eyes at Bakugo and waved. A small smile spread on Todoroki’s face at the sight of his friend.

Bakugo rolled his eyes at his behavior but walked towards him. They were supposed to meet at the other play structure that was on the opposite side of the mall. Todoroki must have gotten them mixed up again.

“There you are. I’ve been texting you,” Bakugo yelled once he was in yelling distance.

Todoroki looked down at his phone in his left hand as if he forgot it was there. So that’s what the vibrations were? He just assumed it was Midoriya sending him pictures of his new video game.

34 texts and 3 missed calls.

Oops, my bad. “Didn’t we say to meet near the children’s play area?” Todoroki asked, blinking in confusion as he frowned and stood up. He put his phone in the pocket of his blue coat and unwound his scarf from his neck.  

“Yeah, the one on the South side,” Bakugo sighed in annoyance. “It doesn’t matter though, just help me so I can get out of here.”

“Okay, help me with Kirishima first. I’m not sure what to get him.”

“I know, and I don’t know what to get ‘Miss I can literally create whatever the fuck I want.’ We’ve been over this. Lucky for you, I have an idea for Kirishima.”

Bakugo grabbed Todoroki’s arm and dragged him along, making sure to not lose him in the crowd of frantic shoppers. If he had to waste another twenty minutes looking for the candy cane boy, it may just end with the building in flames.

They headed in the direction that Bakugo came from. He specifically asked for them to meet at the South side play structure since it was near the store he wanted to show Todoroki, but that plan clearly didn’t work out. So they made a short trek to the opposite side of the mall.

It would have been fine if Todoroki didn’t look at the windows of every single shop they passed.

He was infatuated with almost every product displayed in the windows. It didn’t matter whether it was a speaker, a t-shirt, or a toy—he wanted it all. He could probably afford it all too, with that black credit card he carried that belonged to his father.

Bakugo eventually dropped his arm. They were out of the most congested parts of the mall. They should be fine.

Yet in a few minutes, when Bakugo turned around to check if his classmate was following him, he saw nothing but empty air.

It was a few minutes before Bakugo found the tall boy surrounded by little midgets.

“Come on Icyhot, we don’t have time for this,” Bakugo scoffed, finding him in a Build-A-Bear.  

Todoroki turned around to see Bakugo behind him, arms crossed and seething.

“But I want one. They’re so cute and soft. Look.” Its head drooped forward as Todoroki held the unstuffed bear out to show his friend.

Bakugo thought it was kind of ugly. It looked really scratchy too. Out of all the finished models sitting on their shelves, Todoroki somehow managed to pick the most hideous one.

The entire idea of Build-A-Bear was kind of disturbing to him. You paid money to take what is essentially a corpse of a toy, pump some white stuffing into it, and then put a little mass-produced heart in it. Then you would wash it, with air? And give it clothing? Weren’t stuffed animals loved because you could pretend they were alive? How were you supposed to think it was alive when you literally stuffed its guts and organs back into its skin? In conclusion, Build-A-Bear was ruining the imaginations and childhoods of its customers.

Bakugo glowered at Todoroki until he dejectedly threw the unstuffed bear back into the bin and followed him out of the store. Bakugo was right; they didn’t have time for this. This shopping trip was meant to find presents for Kirishima and Momo.

“Just go pull an old one out of storage at your house or something. I’m sure you have a million,” said Bakugo as they walked to the store Bakugo wanted to go in all along.

“Oh, I’ve never had one. Did you?” Todoroki asked, Bakugo dropping his arm once he realized.

Fuck, how could he have forgotten again? Childhood was always a touchy subject for his classmate, he knew that. He didn’t mean to make such a careless comment. “Yeah, I, uh, just assumed every kid had one at some point. Sorry,” he mumbled.

Silence fell between them as they finally made it to the shop that hopefully held Kirishima’s present.

“Here,” Bakugo pointed to a pair of shoes in the window. “He would probably want these.”

“Those are ugly though,” Todoroki bluntly pointed out. They were a white pair of chunky Fila shoes.

Did you see the stuffed animal you were holding? “I agree, but anything is a step up from those red crocs he wears all the time,” sighed Bakugo.

He went into the relatively empty store and found a pair of the same shoes in a size 10, then shoved them into Todoroki’s arms. “There you go. Go buy them.”

Todoroki turned around and walked towards the counter.

A girl stood at the counter, clearly bored with her minimum wage job. When she looked up and noticed him, she immediately put on her best smile and fiddled with her hair. She made a weird face once she noticed his scar but wiped off the frown after a few seconds. “Are you ready to checkout?” she chirped.

Her voice was awful. Nasally and partially responsible for Bakugo’s oncoming headache. “Fucking ridiculous,” Bakugo scoffed under his breath. “He shouldn’t get special treatment because he’s pretty. Everything in the world should be based solely on firepower.”

Todoroki replied, “Yes I am.” Completely oblivious.

Bakugo could not understand how someone could be so dense. He was one of the top students in the class, probably the entire school. He always made good snap decisions when under pressure. He was a good fighter, with or without his quirk. He was powerful and smart and strong. So how could he not notice when someone was clearly trying to flirt with him?

Bakugo crossed his arms and pretended to be intensely looking at some shoe displayed on the shelf. He glanced over every so often to make sure that Todoroki wasn’t about to get swindled out of everything he owned. He wouldn't put it past the poor, innocent boy.

Todoroki smiled at her, thanking her for her help, and Bakugo actually felt the girl’s soul ascend.

He walked over to the register and tried his best not to glare at the pair. She was really getting on his nerves.

Shit, he forgot about the budget limit they set.

Todoroki pulled out the credit card from his wallet and handed it to the salesgirl who was rambling about some deal that was going on as she punched something on her screen. He stared at her blankly, zoning out and probably thinking about the next soba dish he could have if Bakugo had to guess.

Bakugo pushed Todoroki’s warm hand away, almost slapping the card out of it, and the girl visibly scowled at him. Wow, lady, don’t try so hard to hide your disdain. He glared at her.

“Bakugo, what’s wrong?”

“I forgot to look at their price.” He turned to the salesgirl who was clearly annoyed. Good, maybe she would finally take a hint. “We can’t buy these.” He grabbed Todoroki’s free hand and tried to pull him away, but Todoroki stood there.

“Wait, but Kirishima will like these. It’s fine, I will just get them customized if they don’t fit the budget requirements that were set.” He handed the card to the girl who immediately sent a bright smile his way despite her eyes being fixed on Bakugo. She was plotting ways to murder him, he could tell. It was the same look plastered on his face for the majority of the day.

Bakugo cursed out Todoroki’s back but let the purchase continue. It wasn’t his money that was being spent, so who cared. Todoroki egregiously disrespecting the budget was somehow so on-brand for him.

She checked them out and handed them the box with a receipt. “Bye! Good luck with your shopping,” she said to Todoroki, completely ignoring Bakugo.

Todoroki pulled away from the blonde’s hand to put his card away and grab the shoe box. Bakugo flinched, dropping his hand. He forgot that he took it to drag the taller boy out in the first place.

Once they were out of the store, Bakugo snatched the receipt from Todoroki. He was appalled at the price. “11,500 yen? Are you serious? They said to keep it around 2,000.”

“It’s fine. They probably won’t be able to tell,” Todoroki said in his usual serious tone.

Bakugo stood and stared, surprised at the boy’s ignorant thinking. Uraraka would pass away if she was here right now. “Are you joking?”

Todoroki frowned, “No, are you joking?”

“No, I’m not. I don’t care though. It’s your money.” Bakugo went to throw the receipt away when he saw handwritten numbers at the bottom.

She didn’t.

Bakugo studied it more closely.

She did.

“Todoroki, how the fuck do you get all these people falling in love with you? You literally just stand there and trip over your words and smile. It may be endearing sometimes, but that still doesn’t explain anything.”

Todoroki cocked his head and peered over the blonde’s shoulder. “What did she write?”

“It’s her phone number, dumbass.” He balled up the paper and threw it in the nearest trash can.

“Hey, what if I wanted that?” Todoroki stared down at the crumpled paper.

“Why would you ever want to talk to someone like her?”

“No, I meant the receipt.”

Un-fucking-believable. Bakugo walked away from headache reason number two and towards the mall map. If Half-and-Half couldn’t keep up with him, then it was his problem. It was too tiring, corralling the boy. He had been here for at least an hour by now, and he hadn’t even gotten his gift for Ponytail.

Someone’s hand brushed his side and he recoiled at the touch. He turned his head to find the red and white-haired boy standing beside him. When the hell did he get behind him?

Mint permeated the air around them as Todoroki stood near his friend. His soft, even breathing brushed against Bakugo’s ear as he searched for the perfect place. A pleasant sense of peacefulness washed over the blonde as he felt the heat of his classmate’s left side gently radiate off him.

Todoroki pressed his long finger against the virtual map. “There’s a customization store over here it looks like.”

Todoroki’s words pulled Bakugo out of his daze. He must have been getting tired or bored, waiting for the other boy to make up his mind. “Fine, we’ll go there.” Only because it was close. “But then we are getting Momo’s present and leaving.”

They worked their way to the customization store that was conveniently close by.

The interior decor was not awful and there was no one trying to flirt with Todoroki, so this was considered a good place in Bakugo’s book. Todoroki seemed almost overwhelmed with the bright colors and loud bass that vibrated through the floor. His eyes wandered around, taking in the funky colors bathed in the low lighting.

Bakugo seized the box of shoes from Todoroki’s arms. He would have to do it or they would get nowhere.

“Hey, can we get these customized?” he shouted over the music, marching up to the counter.

The man spun around. “Sure, dude, what do you want on ‘em?” Oh no, not a skater guy.

Skater guys were right below annoying sales girls on Bakugo’s list of “Things I hate but must tolerate occasionally.”

“Todoroki, come here. What do you want to put on them?” Bakugo glanced back to see if his classmate actually listened. The blonde was surprised to find the other’s face only a few inches away from his.

Bakugo shifted to the right to make room at the counter. Todoroki stared down at the shoes then up at the man who was waiting patiently for their answer. “I’m not sure,” he finally said.

“You insisted that they be customized but you didn’t even know what you wanted on them?” scoffed Bakugo. He was this close to leaving and finding Momo’s present on his own.

Todoroki shrugged, looking back and forth between the blonde and the friendly cashier.

“It’s all good, bro. Have a look around with your... friend here.” He nodded towards Bakugo who was currently muttering every insult he could think of at the red and white-haired boy. “We’re open until ten, you have all the time in the world.”

“Thank you, sir,” Todoroki said. He turned around, clutching the box of shoes to his chest and looking around at the various options offered in the store. It seemed like he was having trouble concentrating.

Bakugo whipped around again, “Can you turn the music down?”

The man nodded and adjusted the volume so that it was at a normal level. Todoroki sent Bakugo a grateful look.

“Sorry, little dude, business is slow around here so I gotta pass the time somehow.” He stepped out from behind the counter. “There are some common designs over on that wall. Colors are right next to them and fonts next to those. Prices are over here by the register. If you have any questions, just ask me.”

This man had the patience of a saint, Bakugo decided. If he was faced to help the clueless idiot that possessed Todoroki on a daily basis, he would have burnt down the place in an instant.

Todoroki smiled. “Thank you, sir!” He strode toward the colors and surveyed his options.

“Bakugo, what do you think about this?” he asked, looking up. Hair fell in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and shook his head to clear it out of the way. He blinked a few times before staring widely at his friend again, grey and blue eyes shining.

Bakugo blinked away his thoughts and walked over to where Todoroki was standing and pointing to a color. It was a deep red that was slightly darker than Shitty Hair’s shitty hair.

“If you match it with black, like his hero costume, but you also put some white on it, I think it’ll look really cool. I think I will also put ‘Red Riot’ on it. What do you think?” He looked at Bakugo for confirmation.

Bakugo couldn’t help but smile as he pictured his friend’s reaction. “Yeah, he’ll eat that shit up for sure.”

Todoroki nodded and went to survey the different fonts. They were displayed on a small tablet that was connected to the large flat screen hanging above them. He scrolled through hundreds of fonts, double-tapping them to place a star next to his favorites.

“I like this one. Or, wait, this one is nice. This one is sort of manly though.” Once again, Todoroki was overwhelmed with choices and in need of some guidance.

Bakugo nudged the boy over so he could have complete control over the tablet. “What about this one?”

Todoroki tilted his head up to see a font he must have missed: big block letters that looked like they were aggressively painted with bold strokes. He smiled the same brilliant smile that he flashed at the salesgirl and skater man. “I think it’s perfect.”

The pair returned to the counter and to the whistling man who was sorting t-shirts into their respective piles. He noticed they were coming back over, so he quickly folded the last shirt before turning around to face the register.

“Okay, sir, I think we have finally decided.” Todoroki recited the codes back to the man as he punched them into the tablet.

“Very cool choices, give me a few seconds for a rough sketch that you can review before OK-ing it.” He grabbed a stylus from a tin nestled in the corner and started to draw random lines. At least, they looked pretty random to the two. They were shocked at the final design.

With slight direction and input from the boys, the man had created the coolest design either of them had ever seen. They told him about the gears on Kirishima’s costume and he incorporated them on the sides of the wording. He also added flecks of white like Todoroki had previously suggested to Bakugo before when they were picking out colors, as well as other patterns and highlights.

The man tilted the tablet towards the students. “Do you like it? If not, I have another idea.”

“Wow, yeah, that’s amazing,” Bakugo uttered.

Todoroki was just as shell-shocked as the former. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much.” He handed the credit card to the man.

“I just need to warn you that it’s not cheap. It’s about 8,000 yen for that design.” He expected the boy to retract his card, but he kept his arm sticking out.

“Oh, that’s fine. Thanks, I appreciate it.”

The artist took the card from him and looked at the name on the back: Enji Todoroki. So that’s where all this money came from.

He swiped the card and handed it back to the boy, along with the receipt. “If you leave the shoes here, then you can collect them in about a week. Just call ahead and we will get them ready for easy pickup.”

Todoroki frowned. “Oh, I thought you were going to do it right now since you were so fast with the sketch.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes at the ignorant behavior, but the man just laughed. “That’s flattering if you think I could do that all on the shoe itself, but we send them, along with this sketch, to a professional place.”

Todoroki nodded in understanding and placed the shoes on the counter. “Okay, thank you. I will call you in a week.”

“No problem, see you then.” He wished them luck on the rest of their shopping as they left the store. Maybe Skater Guy wasn’t so bad, Bakugo thought, he was a really talented artist and didn’t even snap at Todoroki once.

They were met with loud holiday music and warm air once they entered the main part of the mall and walked toward the directory. The onslaught of frenetic shoppers barrelled past without a second thought and would have dragged Todoroki away if not for Bakugo grabbing onto his arm at the last second.

“Fucking finally. Now what the hell do I buy?” sighed Bakugo as he scanned the section labeled “Women’s Clothing.” If all else failed, he would just buy her a scarf or something.

Bakugo never wanted to be a part of the gift exchange in the first place. It took days of Deku hounding him, Kirishima begging him, and Sero straight-up bullying him to get him to put his name in the hat.

He knew he shouldn’t have succumbed to the peer pressure when Iida came to his desk and told him that he would have to give a gift to Momo. The Yaoyorozu Momo, Quirk: Creation; aka, she could create literally anything she wanted to, so why the fuck did Bakugo have to buy her something?

Unfortunately for him, Momo was really looking forward to the Secret Santa. She couldn’t help but gush about it to her girlfriend Jirou, who would do anything to make sure Momo had a wonderful Christmas, even if that meant harassing a certain spiky blonde gremlin.

Bakugo wasn’t scared of her, no, not at all. Just like how he was not somewhat fearful of Sero, the only person Bakugo had ever met who was immune to his snarky comments and mean words.

After pressuring Iida enough to force him to reveal Momo’s gift-giver, Jirou came over and threatened Bakugo, hissing and engaging in an arguing match with him. It ended with Bakugo promising that he would give her a nice gift. Deku was amazed at Jirou’s success.

That’s how he ended up here, at the mall, with the one and only infuriating Todoroki Shoto by his side.

“I don’t know,” Todoroki frowned, scanning the directory to find a suitable store.

“You, what?” Bakugo must have heard him wrong. He must have heard him wrong because if not, then what was he even doing here?

“I don’t know what to get Momo.”

“Are you fucking serious? I literally agreed to meet you here because you said you could help me. I just hauled my ass around this stupid mall trying to help you get a good gift, and in return, you tell me you don’t know what to get her? I cannot believe-”

Todoroki turned and walked away. He learned that’s what you are supposed to do from Midoriya’s guide he passed out to the class named Dealing with Bakugo Katsuki 101. There was a section that Midoriya entitled “Feral Bakugo.” This must have been what he meant.

Method #1: Just walk away.

Bakugo chased after him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Half-and-Half Bastard? Don’t walk away from me when I’m fucking talking to you, you son of a-”

Mothers covered their children’s ears and glared at the blonde because of his open profanity. People walked around him, wanting to avoid the shit that was inevitable about to go down.

Todoroki sighed. He would have to move on to method two. He turned around and stared at Bakugo with a blank look on his face.

Method #2: Stare at him to make him uncomfortable or confused.

“Okay, what the shit? You’re kind of creeping me out.” Bakugo stopped growling and being an overall barbarian in public. Mission: accomplished.

Todoroki was about to speak when something caught his eye in the display case behind him. He walked past Bakugo to see what was sparkling.

Bakugo turned around as the boy ignored him. “What the hell are you looking at now?” he snarled, still angry that Todoroki was ignoring him.

Todoroki pressed his face up to the glass, close enough that his breath fogged the display case. “Do you think Momo will like these?”

Cute glass figurines sat on a bed of cotton strewn about to look like fake snow. Glitter was sprinkled along the shelf and vinyl clings of snowflakes were stuck to the window. Wooden carvings rested near the glass characters, along with other useless knick-knacks and baubles. Bakugo found the whole display tacky, but Todoroki seemed to be enchanted by it.

“Let’s look at them more closely.” Todoroki grabbed Bakugo’s hand and pulled him into the store, seeming to forget about his so-called “feral behavior” three seconds ago.  

The store had the exact opposite vibe as the customization one. It looked to be a novelty gift store. It was totally decked out in Christmas decorations, with lights hanging everywhere and Christmas music blaring loudly.

Todoroki immediately found the glass figurines in a box. He handed it to Bakugo for closer inspection, cold hand briefly brushing against the warmer one.

“She can just make these herself. They’re just pure glass anyway.”

“Sure she can, but it’s the thought that counts. Also, I don’t think she would ever think to make them.” Momo would never use her quirk in such a self-indulgent way. The only time she ever manifested items was when it was for others.

He had a point. “You’re right,” Bakugo conceded, flipping the box over to see the price. 5,500 yen, ouch. “But it’s still over the price range.”  

“She won’t know though.”

Once again, he had a point. Momo had never been good at guessing the price of an object, probably because she never had to pay attention to it. Unlike Kirishima who would be able to tell just how expensive his customized shoes were, Momo might not even think to consider the price.

At the end of the day, Bakugo had to admit that Todoroki was pretty good at this gift-giving thing, but he wouldn't be caught dead ever saying that aloud.

Bakugo agreed to buy the figures, satisfying the other boy. The cashier easily rang up the figurines and they were out of the store in ten minutes.

Now that both presents had been bought, Bakugo was in a much better mood. The anxiety that came with the possibility of Jirou murdering him in his sleep dissipated once he finally purchased the gift.

“Why did your present take so much longer?” Bakugo teased.

Todoroki shrugged. “I’m not sure. They usually say it’s harder to shop for girls, right?”

Todoroki clearly did not understand the jab.

Bakugo cleared his throat. “Right. Anyways, are you ready to go? I have to go buy a present for my mom, but you can leave. I won’t keep you hostage.”

“Oh, alright. Goodbye.” Todoroki nodded once, turned on his heel, and walked away.

Bakugo watched him walk away before sighing to himself. Now came was the hard part. What would Todoroki Shoto want for a Christmas present?

-

Todoroki walked towards the exit, peeking over his shoulder every couple of minutes to see if the blonde boy had left. Once Bakugo had walked away from the gift store, Todoroki turned around and weaved his way back through the crowd.

While Bakugo was scrutinizing the glass figures, Todoroki saw a small potted cactus he thought the blonde would really like. It didn’t require too much attention and was very prickly; Bakugo was one of these two things. It was only a small present, and despite the number of times that he tried to deny it, Bakugo was indeed Todoroki’s friend.

He double-checked his surroundings to make sure Bakugo had truly left before walking into the store.

“Back again, honey?” The old woman who helped check out Bakugo was still sitting at the counter.

“Yes, I am buying a present for my friend.”

She smiled and went back to looking at her magazine.

Todoroki turned around to find the succulent, which was actually a Christmas cactus. How fitting. He picked it up and inspected it similarly to how Bakugo inspected Momo’s present. Looking at it, it didn’t strike him in the same way as it did earlier. Bakugo wouldn’t hate it, but he wouldn't love it either. After a few months, he would just think it was a nuisance and kill it.

He set it back down and looked around the store again. Now that he didn’t have to be secretive about what he was doing, it was much easier to clearly check out all the products. Still, nothing was standing out to him as a great gift, so he waved goodbye to the nice lady and went on his way in search of the perfect present for Bakugo Katsuki.

-

Bakugo had no clue where to even start.

Clothes were always the go-to present, so he might as well start there. Maybe some great idea would strike him from above while he wandered aimlessly.

He ended up in a punk-goth-emo type section. “How the fuck did I…”

Skulls and chains in a sea of black surrounded him as he tried to find an escape. This must be where his mother bought his clothes as a child.

He found the small hallway that he must have walked through to get to this terrifyingly bleak place. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to find a half-red half-white haired boy standing about thirty feet away.

I thought he was the only one who looked like that. Unless… Todoroki Shoto has fanboys? It wasn’t completely out of the question. A lot of 1-A students garnered fans ever since the Sports Festival.

The possible fanboy turned his head.

Oh shit, never mind that was literally Todoroki.

Bakugo didn’t want to turn around and get lost in the endless maze of black again, but he couldn’t stay in this brightly lit hallway.

Instead, he darted down the hallway as fast as humanly possible and dove behind a clothing rack. It rattled softly, but Todoroki didn’t notice. Bakugo released a sigh. He clearly wasn’t going to find anything worthwhile here, so he made it his main priority to get the hell out of here before he was spotted.

Every few seconds, he bolted from rack to rack, making sure that Mr. Candy Cane never saw him. Todoroki never seemed to notice as he went around the store picking out clothes and feeling different materials.

God bless Bakugo’s amazing espionage skills, or he would’ve had a large problem on his hands if he had to explain why he was shopping for his mother in the goth section.

-

Todoroki was still having no luck.

Nothing caught his eye in the ginormous clothing store. A few times, a metal rack would shake and Todoroki would go check the mysterious noise out. The first time it happened, he considered it a sign from the gift-giving gods that purposely lured him over. That was until he discovered it was filled with tasteless vests and button-ups that no one should ever wear, not even as a form of punishment.

He knew Bakugo would not have the patience for any puzzles. He also doubted Bakugo would appreciate the simplicity of children’s toys, so he was out of ideas.

Todorki flitted around the entire mall, going from store to store as he combed through the thousands of gifts. The last few stores were a shoe store, a bookstore, and a jewelry store.

If nothing else worked, Todoroki would just buy him a book. He was pretty sure Bakugo liked reading, and lots of books existed, which meant his odds of getting a book that his friend hadn’t read before were pretty good.

He left that as his last resort and instead entered the jewelry store. Thousands of sparkling crystals blinded him and he almost walked right out. But no, he would press on until he found the perfect gift.

He knew Bakugo wouldn’t like anything too sparkly. His brazen personality was more than enough to gather people’s attention.

Eventually, Todoroki found himself in a section filled with bracelets and rings that weren’t outfitted with diamonds. They were mostly leather or solid metal.

He sifted through the suggestions, spinning the little carousels around when an orange bead caught his eye. He pulled it off the hook. It was a simple bracelet with metallic black and orange beads. The colors reminded Todoroki of Bakugo’s hero costume.

He slipped it on his own wrist and found that it was slightly elastic. It wouldn’t fall off, but it wouldn’t get stuck, meaning it would be perfect to wear during class or meals or combat training. Todoroki wholeheartedly believed Bakugo would appreciate the versatility.

He took it off and went over to the nearest register. There was one person in front of him, so he just got in line and looked at his phone.

Despite Todoroki sending no responses to Midoriya, he still texted him with screenshots of his game. There were over a hundred messages now. He must have been very excited.

The man working at the counter called “next,” so Todoroki put his phone back in his pocket, making a mental note to look at them later.

He gave the bracelet to the man, and the man scanned it and placed it in a fancy silver box lined with black velvet. He grabbed a small plastic bag and slipped the box in, along with a receipt. He wished Todoroki a nice day and the boy replied with a small “thank you” before grabbing the bag and walking out of the store.

He peered down at the box. It was the first present he had ever bought by himself, and he was strangely proud.

He was almost at the exit when he looked up to find Bakugo in front of him with a startled look on his face.

Bakugo spoke first. “I thought you left.” He eyed the taller boy with curiosity.

Todoroki’s eyes widened once he realized the situation. Bakugo couldn’t know he bought him a surprise gift. It wouldn't be a surprise then.

“Oh, um well, I planned to. But then I, uh, I saw this store, and I was like my cat would really like this…” he trailed off.

“Your cat?”

“Y-yeah, you know. My cat, uh, he likes to, to wear fancy jewelry sometimes. You know, like, to dress up for fun.”

Rich people were so fucking weird. “What are you saying-”

Todoroki scratched his head and nervously laughed. “Okay, bye!” He flew out of the store clutching the small bag.

-

There was no way he was buying something for his cat.

No fucking way.

He must have been buying something for his mother or his sister. He couldn’t understand why Todoroki would be so flustered over something like that but to each their own.

He looked around the store. It was his last-ditch effort to find something that suited Todoroki. His classmate had quite the eye for stupid, useless things, and jewelry seemed to fit the description well enough.

A young woman came up to him. “Hello, sir, do you need help finding something?”

Not another saleswoman, please no. He couldn’t take any more. At least this one had a normal voice and a non-murderous look in her eye.

The humidity in the building had messed up his hair and all their hustling had made him start to sweat. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, just itching to blow something up. He must have looked terribly disheveled because the woman asked if he was okay.

He wanted to snap at her until he remembered that a place like this demanded civility. Very unfortunate. Instead, he tried answering her in the most docile way possible. Maybe she would actually be of some use. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just having difficulty in finding a present.”

“Understandable! I can help you if you would like?” The saleswoman's happy, airy tone returned once he assured her that he was okay.

“Oh, actually yes. Yes please, thank you. Do you have anything a teenage boy would like? Something cool, but still elegant in a way?”

“Oh, do you have a boyfriend you are shopping for?” she inquired, leading him to a specific area of the store.

“What? No!” he snapped.

A blush may or may not have graced his cheeks when he thought about Todoroki opening his present.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. We have a collection over here though if you would be interested.” She could tell he was lying, either to her or himself. No straight, teenage male would be found dead in a jewelry store buying a present for his male friend. The red cheeks were also a dead giveaway.

“Yes, sorry. It’s just been a tiring day.” Bakugo didn’t mean to bark at the lady who was just trying to help him; it was just second nature at this point.

“I’m sure it has. Gift shopping can be hard, but that’s why I’m here.”

They made small talk while she showed off many different pieces. Various features and product advantages flew over his head as he tried to picture each bracelet on Todoroki’s wrist. He eventually settled on a leather cuff with a large metal adornment.

“If you want to fill that metal box with an engravement, that’s included if you buy it.”

Todoroki would definitely like this. His gut told him so, and it was never wrong.

“Okay, cool. I’ll get it engraved.”

They walked over to the engraving station in the corner of the shop. The woman unclasped the bracelet, placing the cuff flat on the table, and turned towards Bakugo. “What would you like it to say?”

“Oh, can I have a second?”

The woman nodded and smiled, but her eyes anxiously traveled from customer to customer.

The holiday season was always a great time for her paycheck, but she couldn’t really keep up with commissions if she was stuck helping the same customer. Children like him usually bought the first thing they saw, which is why she started with the most expensive items first. The fact that he took so long only further convinced her that he was shopping for a special someone.

Bakugo crossed his arms. He can’t fuck it up now. He’s spent hours in this dreadful building to find the perfect gift. Now it was in his grasp, and he could make it even more perfect if he thought of the right thing to write on it.

“You can always engrave it later, but I would recommend something like-”

“I got it! Put Katsuki on it in Kanji.”

The lady smiled at the blonde, ready for this exchange to be over so she could go help someone else. “Is that his name?”

“No, it’s mine.”

The woman gave him a strange look. “Sir, do you really-”

“You heard me, lady,” he growled. He was about to explode, literally and metaphorically. It had been hours since he last felt something explode beneath him, and he just wanted to feel the satisfying recoil when he used his quirk.

She scowled at him but did what he said. At the end of the day, he was just another customer that would fill her pockets.

She quickly rang him up and placed it in a box. Bakugo was slightly shocked at the price, but he couldn’t back out now. Also, it was engraved so there was no returning it. Also, he was very confident that Todoroki would really like it.

Bakugo walked out of the store after muttering thanks. His energy and wallet were exhausted and he was ready to go home.

He headed towards the exit when another store caught his eye.

One more stop couldn’t hurt.

-

Everyone was gathered in the common room on the first floor of their dorm building. The Christmas tree’s lights illuminated the room and all of the students were curled up near the fireplace. They had enjoyed a large dinner beforehand, munching on cookies and sipping on milk afterward.

Todoroki and Bakugo ended up sitting next to each other on the floor as they eagerly waited for Kirishima and Momo to open their presents.

Kirishima’s name was called next, and he searched for his package. Todoroki had wrapped it with red wrapping paper covered in cartoon ornaments and tied a large gold bow on top.

Kirishima grabbed the box and crawled back to his seat next to Denki. He shook it loudly and held his ear up to it. Denki rolled his eyes and told him just to open it. Kirishima elbowed the blonde before tearing open the paper. He lifted the lid to find the shoes Todoroki had customized for him.

“Holy shit! These are the coolest things I’ve ever seen!” He pulled them out of the tissue they were nestled in and held them up for the rest of the class to see. Everyone oohed and ahhed, stunned to see the fantastic gift.

“Your gift giver must have been Momo or Todoroki!” Mina noted as she wrote that down on her notes. She was trying to figure out who everyone’s Secret Santa was with Uraraka’s help.

“It doesn’t matter who it was, they’re so awesome. Thank you!” He grinned his little shark smile and stuffed them back into the box.

Todoroki side-eyed Bakugo and discreetly high fived him.

A few more people opened presents until Momo’s turn came around. Mina got hot pink roller skates, Shouji got a six-armed knit sweater, and Sato got a few new kitchen knives.

Momo grabbed her box, a smallish one wrapped in pink wrapping paper with baby pink stripes on it. Thankfully, she did not shake it like Kirishima or Bakugo would have to riot.

She gently tore the wrapping paper off and opened the brown box. The brown paper crinkled as she pulled the wrapped figurines out. Untying the strings, the paper opened to reveal three crystal animals that sparkled in the multicolored light.

“Thank you, whoever! They are very pretty,” she smiled at the whole room. Jirou curled into her girlfriend’s side, flipping the figurines over in her hand to look at them.

Uraraka muttered to Mina, “I have no clue…” Mina reluctantly placed a question mark next to Momo’s name.

Bakugo smirked to himself. There was no way in hell he would let himself be discovered.

-

The rest of the class opened their presents, and overall, everyone was very happy. People munched on desserts, drank hot cocoa, and talked and laughed with each other. Per Kirishima’s request, Bakugo had even power napped before the event so he wouldn’t have to leave early.

By the time midnight rolled around, almost everyone was gone. Almost everyone, meaning everyone except Todoroki and Bakugo.

Bakugo had brought the bracelet with him and hid it in his sweatshirt the entire night. No opportunity had presented itself, but then again, no one would just give you an opportunity. You just had to steal it for yourself.

Bakugo watched Todoroki’s figure as he fluffed all the pillows and folded the blankets.

The blonde almost spoke several times but hesitated each time. No, he was not chickening out. It just wasn’t the right time.

“Um, Bakugo,” Todoroki started. “I got you a present. I saw it and thought of you.”

Bakugo turned around to find a box that looked strikingly similar to the one in his pocket. He untied the ribbon and opened the lid. A bracelet with orange and black beads.

“It reminded me of your hero costume. The black and orange,” Todoroki admitted, abashed.

Bakugo slipped it on. It was very nice, stretchy, and easy to take on and off. He looked up at his classmate.

Todoroki’s heterochromatic eyes stared into his eyes, trying to gauge the blonde boy’s reaction.

Fuck, was he always this pretty? Bakugo wondered, his heart possibly skipping a beat.

“Bakugo?” Todoroki cocked his head to the left, white hair falling in his eyes.

Bakugo was suddenly very aware of how close the other boy had gotten.

“Yeah?” he breathed out, distracted by the mint scent that surrounded the two of them.

“Do you like it?” Todoroki shifted closer, inspecting the bracelet and how it looked on the blonde’s wrist. He picked up the smaller boy’s arm and turned it over in his hands, watching the light bounce off the wooden beads.

“Oh, yeah I do. I do,” Bakugo managed to stutter out. The alternating warm and cold touch sent jolts up his arm and through his body.

Todoroki smiled, dropping his arm to look at Bakugo who had a light blush on his cheeks. It was very cute according to Todoroki.

Bakugo had to sympathize with the salesgirl now. It really was a killer smile that he possessed.

Oh right, he almost forgot. He got too swept up in… everything. “I have a gift for you too. For helping me with Momo’s present and stuff.”

He tore his eyes away from the boy to go find the box he hid in his coat earlier. The bow got slightly crushed, so he tried fixing it as best as he could before turning it around to hand it to Todoroki.

He unwrapped the bow and pulled out a leather cuff with some sort of engraving. “Oh, wow, Bakugo, this is really nice.” He turned it over to read the engraving. “Wait, why does it say your name?”

“Kacchan, you did not just give Todoroki a bracelet with your name on it.”

Bakugo’s face went red at the sudden intrusion. “Shut the fuck up, Deku,” he growled. “Why are you even here?”

“Oh, I was trying to find Aizawa to give him this sweater for his cat. Also, I had colored pencils and a coloring book for Eri, but I couldn’t find them. I thought they might have come here but I guess not. I will take my leave now, so have fun you two!” He hopped off the couch and disappeared around the corner.

Todoroki and Bakugo stared at his retreating figure.

Todoroki poked the blonde. “So why is your name on it?”

“So you’ll always remember who gave it to you!”

“Oh.” Todoroki didn’t know how to feel about that. On one hand, it was kind of cute. On the other hand, it really just wasn’t.

Bakugo’s heart fell at the lackluster answer. “If you don’t like it, I can just take it back or something.” He definitely could not take it back.

“No, I love it.” He slipped it on his wrist and admired it.

Todoroki could stare at the bracelet all day and Bakugo could stare at him all day, but there was something else Bakugo wanted to give. “Uh, Todoroki, I also got you something else.”

Todoroki looked up with inquisitive eyes, folding his hands in his lap.

Bakugo stood up and grabbed Todoroki’s present that he had hidden under a pillow all night.

“I remember you said you never had one as a kid, and it seemed like you really wanted it.” He threw the teddy bear into the other boy’s arms while he trudged back over to their spot in the middle of the room near the fire.

Todoroki easily caught it and looked down to find the teddy bear he wanted from Build-A-Bear that day they went shopping together. He hugged it to his chest and found that it was soft. (It really wasn’t.)

Bakugo melted a bit at the sight as he smiled fondly at the boy. He was so innocent sometimes.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking up at Bakugo.

“You’re welcome,” Bakugo whispered back.

All of a sudden a paper plane hit Bakugo on the side of his head, shattering the sweet atmosphere.

He growled and looked around for the culprit, but no one was there. Dammit. Grabbing the paper in his hand, he angrily snapped it open to find a message written in very familiar handwriting on it.

“Just kiss already <3”

Deku was about to get a fucking mouthful.

-

"And that is how you fly a paper airplane, Eri!” Midoriya smiled at the little girl.

He watched his friends around the corner, Bakugo growling over the paper airplane and Todoroki trying to read what it said while he held his new stuffed animal to his chest.

They would be just fine. More than fine. They would be happy. And that’s all Midoriya could ever ask for.

[myheartrevealedocs]

Untouchable- Ch 2: The Offer

Summary: A Spencer Reid x OC fanfic that retells select episodes, starting in season 1, from the point of view of Lydia Ambers, a forensic scientist.

Warnings: swearing, discussion about death and illegal activity (but like, at half the normal Criminal Minds level)

Ch 1 | Ch 3 | About Lydia

~ ~ ~

“You got it all sorted out?” Gideon asked Hotch as he walked into his office. It had been a month since their case in Santa Cruz and Gideon had been on Hotch’s ass about this since they got back.

“It’s… not a job…” Hotch started. “I talked to Strauss and she said that there was no proof that a forensic scientist would be of any benefit to the team. Police departments provide them and local forensic scientists have access to scenes sooner.”

“Police departments can also have media liaisons and tech analysts, but we bring in our own,” he argued. “I spoke to some of Lydia’s old professors and they said that she’s not only a good crime scene investigator, but her major was chemistry and she’s fit to get a job in DNA analysis or toxicology.”

“Gideon, what did I say about not getting involved? Strauss needs proof that she is an asset to the team before paying her a salary. So, I got her to agree to let Lydia work here as an intern under your supervision.”

“Done,” Gideon said. “By the end of the month, she’ll have proven worthy of a spot on this team.”

“No, there’s more,” Hotch told him, frustrated. “She only gets to work jobs that we clearly need her on and she gets no more than two cases every 50 days.”

“Fine, fine,” Gideon replied, which did nothing to ease Hotch’s worry. He, too, had been impressed by Lydia during the Jonathan Carrey case, but there were parameters on hiring people into the FBI and Gideon acted like those meant nothing.

He’d been the same way about Reid after he first spoke to him, but Reid was cut out to be a profiler from day one and they had an opening for him. Gideon wanted Hotch to simply create a brand new job title and salary for Lydia and he couldn’t do that.

“Should I call her and tell her to pack up her things and move to DC?”

Hotch blinked. “You haven’t already told her about the possibility of a job, have you?”

“No,” Gideon laughed. “I can’t promise her a job when I don't have the jurisdiction to hire anybody.”

That was a relief, but Hotch was still afraid Gideon had let on too much. He had just admitted to calling her professors to learn more about her abilities. So, he replied, “You can tell her that we have an internship position that she might be interested in and ask her about her ability to leave California. That is all.”

~ ~ ~

“Agent Hotchner. Agent Gideon,” Lydia greeted as she entered the BAU. It was crazy enough to be in Virginia, seeing as she’d never left California, but FBI headquarters?

She shuffled around nervously and adjusted her glasses numerous times despite the fact they were already as far up her nose as they could go.

“Lydia,” Gideon greeted, warmly. “How was your flight?”

“It was alright. Exciting. I’ve never been on an airplane before.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. No one should have to go through airport security for their first time alone,” Hotch said. “Why don’t we step into my office?”

He and Gideon led the way into the bullpen and around to his office. Lydia’s eyes darted around, seeing Morgan, Elle, and Reid at their desks, engrossed in their work. She wondered if any of them would even recognize her if she caught their eye. She was surprised enough when Gideon called.

“I assume you’ve been considering my offer?” Gideon asked, closing the door behind her.

“Considering, yes. But it would be… difficult, to say the least. I’d love to hear it from your mouths… the offer, that is.”

Hotch sat down at his desk and gestured for her to do the same.

“Agent Gideon and I would like to offer you an internship here at the BAU as a forensic science technician. When we took you on as a consultant in Santa Cruz, you proved to have inspiring potential. You would only be called out for occasional cases, once every month or so. Agent Gideon would be your supervisor.”

“And this would mean moving to DC?”

“Eventually, yes. We can’t exactly fly you out to every new scene from California. It would be easier to have you here, getting briefed with us, taking the jet, etcetera. You’ll also need to go through a training period here and likely will be asked to work in the office, even when you aren’t on a case. How big of a problem would that be? Do you have a lot of family there?”

“No, not family. I mean, it’s just me and my sister and she’s been doing just fine on her own while I’ve been at college, so we’ll manage the distance. The issue is I’m set to start a masters program next semester. I’m just… unsure how I feel about dropping out of school. I know this is a crazy opportunity, but it’s not a full-time job. And if I don’t do well and you guys decide not to keep me, I’m poor and stuck in DC.”

Gideon, who’d been hovering in the back of the room stepped forward. “If we fire you for some reason, I promise to personally pay for your flight back to California.” It was a joke, but in all seriousness, a flight wasn’t even half of it.

“You wouldn’t have to drop out,” Hotch added. “Many schools nearby would be happy to have you and the Bureau rarely has problems with schools refusing to work around our interns schedules. And even if that’s too difficult, this experience will likely open up many opportunities in the future. I’d be happy to write you a million letters of recommendation should you decide to find work elsewhere.”

“I, uh-”

“Hey Hotch?” A familiar voice called, knocking on the door.

He apologized to her momentarily, before saying, “Come in, Reid.”

The door swung open and the boy looked right over Lydia’s head to his boss. “JJ wanted me to tell you that she…”

He trailed off as he felt more pairs of eyes on him. He glanced at Gideon before finally landing on Lydia.

She decided to make the first move, seeing as he was stunned into silence. “Dr. Reid, how nice to see you again.” She stood up to greet him, a smile gracing her features.

“Lydia, I uh… Sorry, to interrupt I really had no- Oh! And it’s nice to see you, too,” he fumbled. “I’ll… I can talk to Hotch later. Sorry, again for interrupting.” And with that he shut the door and was gone.

“Sorry about that. I figured it might have been important, that’s why I invited him in. What were you going to say?”

Lydia froze, her mind drifting elsewhere. “Does the team know? That you are offering an internship into the team?”

Hotch shook his head. “We aren’t offering an internship into the team. We’re offering you an internship into the team. We were waiting to see if you agreed to it.”

“Well, I don’t want to force them to work with someone super under experienced. They aren’t paid to be teachers.”

“The only one who’s going to be teaching you anything is me,” Gideon reassured her. “You are more than capable of holding your own with them. I trust you.”

Lydia felt her throat close up. It was all set up. A job she couldn’t even dream of and here they were, offering it up on a silver platter. “So, this is all… serious. I move to DC and just… work for the FBI all of a sudden?”

“If that’s what you want, then yes. That’s our offer.”

Lydia looked Hotch over, as if trying to profile whether or not he was lying. And finally, she said, “I would like that. Thank you.”

~ ~ ~

“You’ll need to fill out some legal release forms, medical history forms, and I’ll get to work on setting you up for your training period and psychological assessment,” a charming girl named Penelope Garcia explained. Gideon had introduced her as the BAU’s technical analyst.

Her office was brightly decorated and she handed Lydia all the information she needed with a huge smile.

“I’m going to be asked to do a thorough background check on you, as well. But that information goes straight to Hotch and Gideon, no one else.”

Lydia chuckled slightly. “I don’t think I have any secrets, but thanks for the warning.”

“Of course!” she replied.

“No secrets?” Gideon asked. “If I remember correctly, you refused to explain anything about yourself that didn’t pertain to the case when I first met you.”

Lydia hesitated slightly. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“What were you trying to hide?” he countered. “If you’re such an open book, you can tell me.”

“I was just angry!” she argued. “It isn’t about hiding, it’s just that after my mom died, I really believed that I was explosive and so I avoid any topics that bring out my stronger emotions. And you were trying to push all my buttons. I was stressed!”

She wasn't sure if Gideon was just an attentive listener or if he was simply interested in her background, but his eyes longed for her to go on. “Explosive?”

“That’s how I got this limp.”

Normally, nothing anyone could say would prompt her to give away more information than necessary. She always tried to excuse it as ‘no one asked’ rather than blatantly avoiding certain topics, but it was pretty obvious to just about anyone she’d met that Lydia was not proud of her past. So whatever it was about Gideon that convinced her to add that comment was something pretty special.

“How?” It was Garcia this time.

The young girl laughed. “When I was 16, I was having some issues and one day I was trying to calm myself down… I often did this by physically getting my energy out so I was punching pillows and throwing things and I kicked something that was heavier than I expected and broke my foot.” She nodded, like she was remembering it fondly, but the other two could tell that it was a cover for her uncomfort. “And then, I was mad because I hadn’t solved my problem and I’d rendered myself useless, so I started walking on it before it was healed. I did dumb shit. I felt like I deserved the pain for being so uncontained and brash. And then the arch of my foot healed wrong and I had to live with a more… permanent reminder of my attitude.”

“Sixteen,” Gideon mumbled. “Is that when your father died?”

Garcia looked shocked that her superior would even say such a thing but Lydia was just intrigued, “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged. “You said that your only family is your sister. So, I figure both your parents are far out of the picture. You said your mom died when you were little, which triggered your outbursts. So, I figured that perhaps you lost your dad as well and if you were having major anger issues at 16, could be due to the loss of your second parent. Brings up old scars.”

She paused, a somewhat sad smirk gracing her face. “My dad’s not dead, but you’re pretty close. When I was 16, my father was sent to prison.”

Garcia and Gideon’s faces read with immediate regret. So, Lydia played it off quickly.

“Don’t stress about it. He’s not a murderer or anything and it’s not… important.”

She hesitated to explain what he did. She figured they were bound to find out soon enough and she really would rather not say it outloud, so she changed the subject.

“Hey Garcia? Do you think you could help me work on transferring schools? Agent Gideon suggested that I apply for online courses rather than continuing to learn on campus and I’m still not sure if I can reapply for everything so late. And I know your job isn’t navigating college websites or anything, but you are good at tech and I’d love some help.”

She brightened almost immediately. “Sure, sweetheart!”

[aquariusrunes]

The Superfriends AU (part 14)

It had only been five days since she’d left Paris. 

Six days ago she had a solid plan to prove Lila was working with Hawkmoth, to take down the Italian girl and cause a major blow to her worst enemy. She had a timeline for the issue of her and Chat’s identities. She was blissfully unaware of Chloé’s vast amount of knowledge, the blonde seemingly having deduced the identity of every person Marinette had ever asked to wield a miraculous. And she and her cousin had been on fabulous terms. 

Oh how quickly the world came crashing down around her. It was like Atlas had decided to stop doing his job, quite literally dropping the ball and throwing Marinette’s life into turmoil and chaos.

Though perhaps, things weren’t as bad as she was making them out to be. After all, no one in school trusted Lila anymore, save for Sabrina, weirdly, so that was something. She now knew for sure that Adrien and Chat were one in the same. And yes she was still trying to fuse them together in her head but it was still nice to know. Plus, she and Chloé were...friends now? A weird thought but not one she disliked. 

And yet she felt like complete and utter shit. 

She sat outside of Edna’s office, leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees. Gaze intently focused on the painting hug on the wall in front of her. It was a rectangular canvas with an abstract college of red and black paint splotches coating the linen material. Flecks of silver and gold metallic paint outlining oblong shapes that Marinette could swear were almost humanoid. The whole thing was tucked into a gaudy golden frame with swirls and diamonds studded into it. 

She had been up for hours after Chloé had left her. The blonde having been properly introduced to Tikki before dropping the bombshell that she’d managed to guess the identity of practically everyone who wielded a miraculous. Viperion being the only exception. Once the blonde was gone Tikki set in on Marinette. Erupting in her stern motherly way about the rules, lecturing her like it was the bluenette’s fault Chloé had figured next to all of them out. 

The heroine had barely gotten any sleep. Once the tiney god was done with her, the Parisian girl’s subconscious took over the tourture. Replying to the events of the photoshoot over and over for hours in her head.

Because it had been her fault.

She was the one who used Rose. She knew how the petite girl would explode once she knew the truth. And yeah, she felt a little satisfied seeing Lila runoff in what she knew were fake tears. And on some level, she knew her partner wouldn’t approve, not with how he preached the high road to her. But she still did it, and now she felt like shit because of how disappointed Adrien looked when he had watched the video Nino had sent him.

It felt like someone had stabbed her in the gut and every gaze the partners traded was a twist of the knife. 

And Damian had been worried. 

Of course he had been worried. He was very intune to the emotions of the people he cared about. He had tried to help, and when he knew he couldn’t he thought Adrien could. It was her fault, because she shut him down so quickly. He knew something was off between them, probably thought Adrien had done something to hurt her. 

And that’s why it was her fault. No matter how badly she wanted it not to be. How quick she was to blame her cousin. No, this was on her. So, she felt like shit and couldn’t even begin to work out in her mind how to make the situation right.

And on top of it all she had gotten maybe twenty minutes of sleep before Violet came knocking on her door, telling her Edna wanted to speak with her. So, there she sat, in front of Edna’s office at seven in the morning trying to dissect the damn painting in front of her, while also trying not to simultaneously pass out and vomit. 

“She’s ready for you Marinette.” Her bluebell eyes snapped up to Violet’s thin form. The girl gave her a sympathetic smile as she offered her a small styrofoam cup. 

Marinette took it as she stood, peering into the drink. Coke with crushed ice. So she must look like shit too. “Thank you.” she whispered, taking a small sip of the fizzy beverage as she walked towards the large red doors. She was unsteady on her feet and her head hurt, she definitely was not prepared to deal with her eccentric aunt this early in the morning. 

Marinette softly shut the door behind her, eyes going to the back of Edna’s large office chair. It was turned so the small woman was facing the wall of windows taking up the largest portion of her office wall space. “Good morning dahling!” She chimed, chair swiveling around so that she could look at her niece. Edna’s large smile fell instantly. “My god you look like shit.”

She silently wondered if she got her blunt charm from the Mode side of her family.

Marinette gave a weak salty smile and an eye roll as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of Edna’s desk. “Didn’t sleep well.” The Parisian supplied, taking a large gulp of her drink. God she missed coffee.

“Obviously.” Edna’s faze was scrutinizing as she drank in Marinette’s appearance. “What was keeping you up dahling?”

Marineette thought for a moment. She could just unload on her aunt, maybe get some good advice out of the woman. But most likely she'd just get lectured for a couple more hours. Or, she could lie, get through whatever Edna wanted to talk about as quickly as possible and go back to her room to pass out, leaving all of her problems for Future Marinette to deal with. 

“Just home sick I think.” Option two it was.

“Hmm.” Edna looked her up and down, obviously trying to decide if she believed her or not. Hopefully she’d just let it go. “Well, we can unpack that later. For now I have some important things to discuss with you. Then maybe you can get a nap in before getting ready for dinner.” 

“Dinner?” She blinked owlishly at her aunt. 

“Yes,” She folded her hands together. “Tonight you and Damian will be going to dinner with a pair of models from a rival brand.” 

“We will?” She blinked a few more times.

“You will.” Edna shot her niece a look. “I need you and Damian to size the two up, feel them out and most importantly, collect as much intell on them as possible. The two just appeared on the scene a while back and no one knows much about them save for what is on their social medias.” Edna’s eyes narrowed in annoyance. “And yet they agreed to have dinner with the two of you tonight.” 

“Well, Aunt E.” Marinette’s gaze fell to her lap. “Things are a little…strained between Damian and I right now. I don’t know how well we’ll work together-” 

“Now I’ll hear none of that.” Edna cut her off, silencing her with a raised palm. “I have a meeting with your cousin scheduled for later today. Mainly to make sure the Agrestes don’t pull out of the collection. I will deal with Damian then.” She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “This dinner is very important, so you two will just have to suck it up and act like adults.” 

“Y-yes ma’am.” So much for not getting lectured. 

“Now, onto other business.” Edna’s chair turned slightly as she reached for something on the far end of her desk. “How are things in Paris?” 

Marinette stared at her aunt for a long moment, trying to find the hidden meaning behind her question, certain she was stepping into some sort of trap. “Paris is…fine…” 

“And Hawkmoth?”

“Still a menace.” She replied, leaning forward to place her drink on her aunt’s desk. “My plans have recently been derailed a little but once I’m back I’m sure I’ll be able to get things back on track.” 

“So, you think you’ll have the butterfly miraculous back soon?” Edna asked. 

“I...um, am not sure.” 

“And he has the Peacock Miraculous too, correct?” Edna’s eyebrow raised. 

“Well, we think. He’s working with the wielder of the Peacock Miraculous but the nature of their relationship is still unknown.” Marinette’s eyes traveled back to her lap. “Lots of questions today.” She whispered.

“Just checking in Dahling.” Edna smiled. “I like to keep up with superhero events around the globe. Bruce calls to check in at least once a month with Justice League matters.” 

Marinette simply nodded. She hated when Edna would call to ‘check in’ on the situation in Paris. She hated when her cousins or uncle did the same. She was handling Paris just fine, at least Tikki told her she was. Or she had, up until the Mayor’s daughter somehow figured out everyone’s identities save for Hawkmoth and Viperion. 

“Any issues with young Adrien?” 

Marientte’s eyebrow raised. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, he’s your friend isn’t he?” Edna asked. “And he had a traumatic encounter yesterday. You seemed very concerned, but I couldn’t help but notice you also seemed to be avoiding him.” 

“It’s fine.” Marinette glanced around the room. “I’m working on it. We’re fine.” 

“I’m sure.” Edna said flatly. “It’s important that the two of you remain on good terms, you know…we wouldn’t want anything to sabotage your relationship.” Edna gave her niece a soft smile, despite the girl not looking at her. “I’d hate for you to regret something in the future that you could easily fix now.”

“What?” Marinette asked, eyes going back to her aunt. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh nothing dear, just that I’d hate for you to lose your partner over something dumb.” Edna’s gaze fell onto a picture on her desk. “You’d be surprised how easy it is to lose people that are important to you. How easily strong bonds are broken.”

“Actually I don’t think I would.” A sting ran through Marinette’s heart as she thought back to her friends in Paris, one person from her class in particular sticking out in her mind. “Aunt Edna could I ask your opinion on a situation I’m in?”

“Of course,” Edna leaned back in her chair, hands folded in her lap. 

“I have a friend, a best friend, and well, some stuff happened between us.” Marientte worried her lip between her teeth, trying to sort out the phrasing of her next few sentences in her head. “She took someone else’s word over mine, or well, she trusted someone else over me.” Marientte’s eyebrows furrowed. “See, this girl, she’s sneaky and manipulative and a liar. And my friend, best friend, trusted her, and listened to her, over me.”

Edna nodded, waiting for her niece to continue. 

“And I tried to give her proof, but she just brushed me off as being jealous. And it hurt. Auntie it hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I cried myself to sleep some nights because of how much it hurt. But then she was faced with evidence she couldn’t dismiss.” 

“So she believes you know?” Edna asked. 

“Yes.” She whispered. “But only because she found something out that she can’t twist around into me being jealous.” Marinette quickly pointed out. “And now she’s helping me with some stuff…”

“But?”

“But I still feel weird about it.” Marinette rubbed at her arms. “Like for the time being I have to trust her, I just have to. But, I’m not sure if I would choose to trust her if given an option, does that make sense?” The bluenette asked, looking up at her aunt through her bangs.

“You didn’t choose to trust her.” Edna supplied.

“Yeah.” Marinette’s gaze dropped again. “And I just don’t know if given an option I would trust her with everything that she knows now, I guess...is what I’m trying to say?” 

“Yes dear, you said that.” Edna gave her an understanding nod. 

“I just don’t know if I really do trust her.” Marinette folded her hands together, fingers sliding together into a tight lock. “I mean, I just don’t feel good about it? I guess. Like, I was happy at first but the longer the information’s set with me the more it has started to upset me…I guess.” 

“You guess?” Edna’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Everything is just a mess right now.” She whispered. “And she’s so eager to prove herself to me but I can’t tell if it’s because she’s sorry that she hurt my feelings and took Lila’s word over mine or if,” Marientte bit her lip. 

“If?” Enda asked. 

Marinette’s teeth plunged into the soft flesh of her lip as hard as they could. A spark of heat shooting up her spine as her anxiety took over. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have, with anyone, and especially not with Edna. But she wasn’t going to get out of this office until she told her everything. With the look her aunt was currently giving her she doubted she could come up with a lie convincing enough to get out of here without coming clean.

“She found out.” 

“Found out?” Edna’s eyebrow somehow raised higher. “Found what out?”

Marinette swallowed hard. 

“My identity.” 

Edna’s eyes widened as she leaned forward. 

“Your secret identity?” 

Her head snapped down in shame. “Yes ma’am.” She whispered, voice tight and high. Edna immediately fell back in her chair, exasperated expression overtaking her face as she let out a deep breath. 

“Good god.” She mumbled. “How?” She jutted forward. “How did this happen? Marinette, you are so careful!” Edna threw her hands up. “Your cousin is Batman for gods sake and he’s not even as careful about is identity as you are!” 

“I know! I know!” Mariette raked her hands through her hair, pulling at the braids she had earlier styled her blue locks into. “I just-well, I was so overworked and it was cold and I hadn’t slept in like three days-”

“So you just slurred your identity out to the first person you recognized?!” Edna scolded. 

“No!” Marinette squeezed her eyes shut. “No! No! That isn’t what happened!” She shook her head violently. “I just-well-well…” She bit her lip, giving her aunt a pathetic look. “I had gotten sick and Hawkmoth kept sending out midnight akumas and well…” 

“Stop saying well.” Edna demanded, eyes narrowing as she folded her arms over her chest. 

“I guess I passed out?” 

“Is that a question?” 

“It’s what-” Marinette bit her lip once again, slightly fearing that she was going to draw blood. She had avoided mentioning the kawamis to her family. As far as they knew the earrings were magic, full stop. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to tell any of them about Tikki just yet. “It’s what she told me.” 

“She?”

“My friend.” Marinette quickly supplied. “Best friend.” She corrected. “I guess I passed out mid-yoyo swing. She said that I fell and landed in a dumpster, and that if someone hadn’t of recently thrown some pillows away I could have seriously broken something.” 

“Ladybug luck I suppose.” Edna mused, eyes sliding away from her niece. 

“She saw me fall and went to check on me because Ladybug’s her hero you know? And then I detransformed and…” Marinette shrugged. “She got me home and wel-I don’t know if she believes me now because we were friends or because I’m Ladybug.” 

“What did your Kawami say about the situation?” Marinette’s breath hitched as she stared blankly at her aunt. 

“What?” 

“Your Kawami, the goddess of creation?” Edna’s eyebrow raised. “What did she have to say about this disaster?” 

“I uh.” She blinked a few more times, face twisting in confusion. “She-uh, actually is the one who explained everything to my friend while I was passed out. I guess.”

“Stop saying I guess as well. It makes you sound stupid.” Edna barked. “And you are not a stupid girl, Marinette. Perhaps a little misguided at the moment but not stupid.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Edna shook her head, taking a deep breath and slowly releasing it through her nose. “Past out mid-yoyo swing?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Her aunt’s gaze softened slightly. “I really do think you should tell one of your parents dahling. If something were to happen-” 

“I’ll think about it.” Marinette whispered. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually. I just don’t want to worry them.” She rubbed at her arms. 

“They will be more worried if something happens to the Heroine of Paris and no one has seen or heard from their daughter.” Edna moved to adjust a photo on her desk. “Trust me dahling, I know these things.” 

Marinette only nodded, stomach still knotted from their conversation. 

“Have you spoken to young Adrien about your friend?” Edna asked, a bit of concern in her voice. 

“No ma’am.” Marinette’s eyes stayed lowered. “Tikki’s the only one I’ve talked to about it. Oh, and the guardian. I briefed him on the situation after it happened. Well, as soon as I was well again, which took a few days.” 

The small Japanese woman nodded, seeming to take a few minutes to process the information, either that or she needed to buy herself time to come up with a good response for her niece. “I think you should tell him.” She finally said, “Partners shouldn’t keep secrets from one another. And now that your identities are out of the way, I think keeping something like this from him could cause serious problems down the line.” 

The bluenette nodded. Her aunt was right. She did need to come clean with Adrien, about everything. She always considered Chat in her plans, but never considered consulting him. He was always just a factor or variable. Something to manipulate to her advantage. She valued him of course, but she didn’t always listen to him in the heat of the moment. And now that she could talk to him, literally whenever she wanted, maybe it was time to bring him in on her master plan. Her master plan that still needed a serious overhaul thanks to Lila’s meltdown. But she definitely needed to come clean about Alya. And talk to him about Chloé. She should probably tell him about Edna too, and maybe her cousins, as soon as she could figure out a way to explain why they knew her identity without outing all of theirs. 

She had a lot to talk to him about. 

Marinette let out a sigh, looking up at her aunt with a tired smile. “I’ll talk to him.” She promised with a nod of her head. “After I take a nap.” 

“And dinner.” Edna quickly added.

“And dinner.” Marinette smiled a little brighter. While she didn’t really discuss any of her current problems with her aunt, she did feel a little better. Hopefully this was a good sign, like a turning point for all her problems. She just had to believe that things would start going up from here. Who knows, maybe a little positive thinking would kick start her ladybug luck. 

… 

Damian Wayne was designed to be perfect, in every single way. Abilities, speech, posture, looks. God, did he have perfect looks. Though he didn’t always have them, he most definitely had to grow into the designer genes his mother had specifically picked out for him. Talia al Ghul may be a sociopathic murderer, trained assassin and seductress, but damn did she know what she was doing.

Colin could picture a ten year old Damian in his head so clearly. The square skull with tufts of black hair sticking up towards the sky, usually dowsed in sweet or on occasion gel. Back before the boy’s nose went crooked, it only happened after one too many breaks, in fact Colin used to compare Damian’s nose to that of a pig. He held his chin so high when they were young, it was hard not to. Back when his eyes were a much darker green, splotches of brown in them hinting at his Arabic and Chinese heritage. The glowing Lazarus green color only appeared after the boy’s resurrection. Colin was still confused about where the color had come from, seeing as the pit had nothing to do with Damian’s second life.

It happened so suddenly, almost overnight really. One day he wasn’t as stocky as he used to be, his limbs had become longer, lither, his muscles becoming tightly fit to his body. He grew taller, was still growing taller. Colin having the current advantage, but was convinced by their twenties Damian would be taller than him. His cheekbones became more prominent, chin thinning into a point. And that damn crooked nose, probably Colin’s favorite thing on Damian’s face. His cute little crooked nose, ending in a point that Colin had kissed on many occasions.

Damian became beautiful overnight and it was probably the only thing he’d ever said was unfair. He never went through an awkward phase, never had acne or braces like Colin. He developed a style in an hour, with his form fitting jeans and slacks, closet full of blazers and tight V-neck tees. He started styling his hair like Bruce’s. He grew up before Colin’s eyes and it wasn’t fair. Colin still hadn’t developed at style, he still broke out often, he’d had braces for two years, his gangly limbs took years to start absorbing the venom and bulk up.

And yet Damian had this habit of looking at Colin like he hung the moon.

He called him Beloved. Because he thought him precious, because he loved him. Because it was the only term of endearment he’d ever heard his mother use and it struck a chord with him. That word was the only way Damian could identify love when he was growing up and he chose to give that word to Colin. And in return Colin called him more casual things, making their love common, less breakable like he knew the boy feared it was. Sometimes, when alone, he called him Angel. Something rare and ethereal and good. Because Damian was good, no matter how hard it was for the boy to see.

Dating the former assassin had always been frustratingly difficult. It took time and Colin had to be patient and cautious. It was like they started over and were barely even friends again. He had to re-earn Damian’s trust and affection. And it was so fragile, so very fragile. Because one slip up and Damian would close himself off, their friendship was like that too but somehow it was easier before Colin’s heart got involved. Because sure when they’d fight Colin would feel guilty about it but he didn’t lay awake at night thinking of how to make it right, how to lessen Damian’s hurt. His heart never ached in pain before. If he reached out to Damian and the boy pulled away, it would shatter his heart, and that had never been a problem before. 

That’s why he never let them go long without talking. Especially after a fight. He never wanted to sleep with a broken heart and he never wanted Damian to go too long thinking Colin didn’t love him as fiercely as Damian loved him.

He’d messed up.

He had been exhausted.

Colin was a very smart boy, the nuns told him so all the time. So much so that they would give him advanced books and encourage him to take college courses through his high school, classes typically reserved for seniors. But Colin loved to learn, particularly about psychology. He was pretty sure he wanted to do something with psychology, maybe social work but he was also playing with the idea of becoming a therapist.

Last night he had been a therapist, had played therapist to one Adrien Agreste for hours. Damian and Jon were both nowhere to be found, and Chloé had dragged Marinette away as soon as they both had their food, leaving just Colin and the blonde model. They had sat together and made idle small talk for a while, and then they were suddenly on the topic of childhood trauma. And it was like they had been friends for years, Colin told Adrien what his life was like growing up in Gotham and Adrien opened up about his own childhood, about losing his mother about his father’s coldness. They discussed anxieties and pet peeves, worst fears.

Colin had literally never bonded with someone so quickly. It was alarming. But also, fun. At one point they were just tossing depression jokes back and forth for a solid thirty minutes. Adrien talked about Lila Rossi, about how hard his father was pushing for her and Adrien to be friends and how uncomfortable he was around her. Colin did his best to advise him, having minimal experience with Damian and the Wayne Fangirls. Adrien talked about his friends, a girl named Kagami came up quite frequently, Adrien telling Colin how much Damian reminds him of her. And eventually, they started discussing love.

They talked about the big questions, soulmates and love at first sight. What their own beliefs were. Colin told Adrien his insecurities about dating someone like Damian, someone made to be perfect. Though Adrien thought a lot of what Colin said were metaphors. He did his best to explain Damian to Adrien. His boyfriend had so many quirks that most found scary or unflattering. He tried apologizing for the photoshoot but Adrien had told him that there was nothing to forgive. It was an accident, that’s what Adrien had said. And for some reason those words put a pit in Colin’s stomach.

Adrien then opened up about his feelings for Marinette. How scared they made him. He discussed how he’d never felt so strongly for someone before, that it terrified him. And even more he thought that sharing them could cause him to lose her. He discussed how strongly he used to come on and how he’s become more docile as their friendships progressed. How unattainable she’s always felt, how unworthy he’s always felt. Colin did his best to convince the blonde otherwise. After all, he’d heard a bit about Marinette’s feelings from Damian, not much, just complaints about how much the girl talked about her model crush. 

Eventually the two were just brainstorming romantic scenarios for each of them and the people who held their hearts. They talked till the lights in the Mode Cafeteria shut off, which is when they both noticed it was well past one in the morning. They’d ridden the elevator up to their rooms in silence, said a quick goodnight and went their separate ways.

Colin’s plan was simple. Change into his pajamas and then go talk to Damian, wake him up if necessary. But he’d already gone too long without talking to his boyfriend. They needed to reconcile after how things were left at the photoshoot. Colin got half way undressed before falling face first on his bed and passing out cold. 

He rarely slept well. Normally the redhead ping ponged between sleeping too heavily or too lightly. Either waking up at every little sound or falling asleep in an awkward position, dead to the word, till morning when he woke to shooting pain running high speed throughout his body. Last night had been one of those dead sleeps. He slept shirtless, face smashed into his comforter, and above all the blankets. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. 

Colin had intended on talking to him. 

He really had. 

And when the redhead’s eyes opened slowly, neck aching from how his head turned to the side in the midst of the night, fear shot through him as the daunting realization set in. He’d fallen asleep and there was now sunlight streaming in through his window. He wasn’t even sure how long it’d been since the shoot incident. But he’d left Damian alone to deal with whatever complex and wild emotions he was currently trying to bottle away. 

He felt queasy as he sat up, hands trembling. He needed to talk to his boyfriend immediately. He almost ran out of his room before slipping a shirt on, but thought better of himself. Quick to brush his teeth and his hair. 

By the time he exited his room Jon was waiting for him, coffee in hand and smile plastered on his face. The half kryptonian looked off though, Colin could tell immediately. The boy’s smile was too tight and his arm muscles were strained, like it was harder than it should have been to keep from smashing the styrofoam cup in his hand. 

“I need to catch you up on some stuff.” 

And that had been that.

… 

He’s never felt such a strong urge to slit his own throat. If anything, he just wanted the shock value, wanted the look on his aunt’s face and the blood splatter that would ruin Gabriel Agreste’s designer suit. Adrien would be unfortunate collateral damage, but he was a superhero, surely he’d seen worst.

“He could have killed my son!” Gabriel shouted, reiterating the fact for the seventh time. If he brought it up once more Damian would be shooting a different Agreste, no voices necessary.   

“It was an accident father.” And again the young blonde came to the former assassin's defence. Adrien seemed to be more actively defending him then Edna at this point. Everytime his father said a damning word against the Gothamite, Adrien was quick to come to his aid. “And I wasn’t even hurt.”

“Your cheek-”

“It was just a scratch Gabriel.” Edna interrupted. “It’s not like the boy gouged your son’s eyes out.” Arguably an easier task then knocking the arrow off target had been. “You can’t even see it.” 

“But it’s there.”

God, Damian was going to kill this man. He wouldn’t be able to hold himself back much longer. It wouldn’t even be the voices fault this time, no it would be all Damian. The beast laying dormant inside him could only hold itself back so long, and Gabriel’s voice was like nails grating against a chalkboard. 

He needed this meeting to be over. He needed out of this room before something ugly burst from his chest and ripped the man’s intestines out. It wouldn’t be his most graceful kill, doubt anything about it would be beautiful, but he didn’t care about beauty or justice. He just wanted the man to shut the hell up. Which meant Damian had to do something drastic. 

With a heavy sigh the dark haired boy leaned forward in his chair. “Mr. Agreste,” He began, his next words already heavy in his throat as he choked the beast back. “I can not begin to express the regret I harbor for my actions. Please know, I never meant your son any harm.” Damn, he was getting better at this. It was actually sounding quite sincere. “Nor can I ever a-polo-ahem,” He quickly cleared his throat, silently cursing himself. “Pardon me.” He took a quick moment to collect himself before continuing, swallowing the horrid taste in his mouth. “I cannot apologize enough.” He let out a deep breath. “It was a very unfortunate accident. One that will not happen again.”

Edna gestured to Damian while looking at Gabriel. “See, the boy is sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“It would be guaranteed not to happen again if I pulled my son out of this shoot and took him back to Paris this afternoon.” 

Well that was a red flag. Damian thought to himself. If Gabriel pulled Adrien out of the shoot he’d never hear the end of it form Edna. Her wrath was legendary and feared by gods, literally. 

“But father, we signed a contract-” A very good point, Catboy. Damian’s brain began to whirl a plan forming as he scooted his whole body forward in the chair, sitting on the edge of his seat as his eyes fell from Gabriel, slowly moving to his aunt. He needed to get Edna’s attention for this. 

“Yes.” He spoke, voice low. “And wouldn’t it be unfortunate if word got out that the Gabriel brand had no qualms about breaking contracts.” 

“We would be releasing an official statement,” Gabriel was quick to counter. “Telling the whole story of how the Mode Brand had no qualms with endangering Adrien.” 

Too late. Damian had to force back his smirk as Edna caught his gaze, seeming to instantaneously understand his plan.

“We’d release our statement first.” Edna said, voice low and dangerous like Damian’s had been. “About the outrageous demands and the blackmail threats made.”

“Excuse me-”

“My troubled childhood is well known, while the details have always been kept secret...” Damian’s eyes traveled to the young blonde in the chair on the other side of Gabriel’s form. Again, for Marinette’s sake he hated that the model had to be caught in the cross fires, but collateral damage was always a part of battle. “Perhaps Adrien and I struck up a friendship and I confided in him.”

“And he took that information to his father.” Edna continued her nephew's story. “Who thought he could use it to get a bigger piece of the pie.” 

“There were witnesses!” Gabriel screamed, a vein in his neck beginning to throb. 

“All on my payroll.” Edna leaned forward, elbows propped on the table as she laced her fingers together. “And they all know how highly I value loyalty.”

Gabriel’s brow set in a glare focused on the small woman. “The Great Edna Mode.” He spat in mockery. 

“The one and only dahling.” She smirked.

Gabriel huffed turning his back on them and headed for the door. “Come Adrien.” He shouted, voice filled with rage. Damian felt a small twinge of pity as he watched the nervous expression on the young blonde’s face, looking at his father’s back. Slowly his eyes shifted across the room to the small smirking woman behind her desk. Her face quickly shifted to give the boy a reassuring smile and tiney nod. 

“Yes Father.”

Damian watched the two go before turning back to his aunt. “Well,” He rested back in his chair as he heard the door to her office slam shut. “That went better than I thought it would.”

“Agreed.” Edna too fell backwards into her oversized black office chair. 

“Think he’ll stay?”

“After that little double team?” Edna cocked an eyebrow. “Gabriel is a coward who let’s his reputation run his life. He wouldn’t dare misstep now.” Her eyes lost their focus on him, instead she seemed preoccupied with some sort of smudge on the lenses of her large glasses. “That was quick thinking, the contract.”

“You would have thought of it.” His eyes slowly lowered to the surface of her desk top. He heard her deep sigh. 

“Just take the compliment Damian.” 

He stayed silent, eyes focusing on one of the pictures in front of him on Edna’s desk. It was of her as a young girl, probably around the time of her first collection launch. She was with three men, all of them much older than her. One he recognized as his father’s grandfather, Bruce Kane, with salt and pepper hair and the jawline of Batman. The other two he didn’t physically recognize but he still knew their names. The other caucation man in the photo had to be Marinette’s great grandfather. He was slightly more robust with the height of his Uncle Tom, a balding head and strangely, Edna’s large circular glasses. The last man was Japanese, shorter than the other men and possibly the eldest out of all of them. Obviously he was Edna’s biological father, but Damian couldn’t remember his name.

He knew all three of them were dead now, but wondered if this photo was taken the last time Edna saw them. What was that conversation like?

“We need to talk about what happened.” Edna said, glasses now back on her face, like she’d decided to live with the smudge that had consumed her focus. 

“I’d rather not.” Damian hummed, eyes still focused on the picture. “Agreste isn’t going anywhere, problem solved. End of conversation.” What was his damn name? It started with an O, he was almost positive of that. 

“Your father seems certain that you wouldn’t lie about the incident being an accident.” 

“I woul-didn’t. It was.” Damian’s fist clenched as his eyes bore into the glass covered ones of his great grandfather. He looked alarmingly like Bruce. He’d always assumed his father took after the Waynes, from the photos he saw. Obviously he hadn’t seen enough of the Kane side. 

“Explain what happened to me.” His eyes flickered back to Edna’s biological father. His name resting on the precipice of Damian’s mind. 

“I’m tired of explaining it.” He growled. “Tired of having to explain myself to everyone.”

’ CLACK ‘

Ootori. His name was Eiji Ootori, or rather Ootori Eiji. 

Damian blinked hard as Edna slammed the picture down on her desk. His eyes trailed up to her. “What’s going on Damian?”

“Lex Luthor was released from prison, our witness is dead. Marinette’s upset about something, something that isn’t me shooting an arrow at chat noir, but she’s mad about that too. My boyfriend hasn’t talked to me since yesterday, when he yelled at me for shooting that dumb blonde, so who knows where we stand right now. Oh, and the voices in my head have come back.”

Why it happened, he wasn’t sure. Why he just vomited all of his problems out in one quick go, but he did. It was like a dam broke and he couldn’t hold back the raging waters. Perhaps the night alone had put more distress on him than he originally thought. In any case, he couldn’t take back what he said, Edna wouldn’t let him talk his way out of any of it now. 

Slowly Edna leaned back in her chair, sighing as she went. Reaching up she plucked her glasses from her face, the smudge apparently getting to be too much. Damian watched as she opened a drawer from her desk and pulled out a small grey cloth, bringing it up to clean the large circular frames. 

He was left to stare in silence as she dutifully rubbed at her glasses. It felt like hours, but in actuality it was only a few minutes. He knew because of the loud ticks of several clocks placed decoratively around the office. Perhaps it wasn’t the smudge that got to her, but rather she needed to buy herself time to think of a response. 

“Okay,” Se finally said, gently placing the frames on her nose, using her free hand to push them back into place. “Well, I can’t resurrect your witness, nor can I rearrest Mr. Luthor. But I can offer my support, whatever that looks like, as well as promise that no harm will come to Mr. Kent while he is in my care.”

“Which he won’t be forever.” Damian throughout. “He’s far too rambunctious to be watched twenty-four-seven.” Damain’s eyes fell. “And he’s much too trusting to be able to protect himself.”

“I think you underestimate the boy.” Edna spoke quietly. “You are worried, of course you are worried. But I think you forget all too often just what the boy is capable of.” 

Damian didn’t respond to that, he just kept his eyes firm on his lap.

“As for your cousin, she won’t stay upset forever. We both know when it comes to family she can’t stay mad long. And once she is no longer angry with you, you can get her to open up about what is bothering her.” 

Damian rolled his eyes at how easy she was making it sound. 

“In fact,” Edna began. “The two of you will be going out to dinner tonight.” Damian’s gaze shot up. “I need the two of you to meet with a few up and coming models from another brand. Get to know the competition and what not.” 

“But Edna-”

“Eh eh eh, no buts.” She wagged her finger. “This will be your way of making up for shooting my model, accident or no.” 

“That’s bullshit.” Damian didn’t mean for the outburst to be so loud or forcrefull, but he couldn’t take it back now.

“And manure is a wonderfully useful resource.”  She retorted. “You’ll do this favor for me Damian.” She said, voice a little softer. “I need good intell. No one sizes up the competition like you and she.” 

Damian kept his eyes down. Of course he would do it, to make up for what he did, accident or no, like she had said. But also, hopefully this would jump start Marinette forgiving him. He just wasn’t going to be happy about it, and Edna was going to know that.

“As for the young Mr. Wilkes-” Oh god, why had he opened his mouth? “Well we both know I am not well equipped to give relationship advice. But I’m sure if you just sat down and talked to him, things would work themselves out.” Edna gave a small smile. “He’s a sweet boy, and seems to really care about you.” 

“I know.” And he did, but still...he couldn’t explain just yet why it hurt so much. He wasn’t ready to talk to Colin yet. He needed time, especially if he was going to have to sit through dinner with a couple of airhead models, he couldn't be analyzing he and Colin’s conversation all evening long. 

“Now,” Edna’s loud voice quickly pulled Damian out of his thoughts. “Let’s talk about these voices.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

(part 1)  (part 2)  (part 2.5)  (part 3)  (part 4)  (part 5)  (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)  (part 9)  (part 10)  (part 11) (part 12) (part 13) (part 14) - here (part 15) - soon

Y'all 2020 has been a wild ride and were barely even started. I hope to god now that I am back in the swing of things updates will be coming more frequently. All I ask is that you please bear with me while I try to navigate the next few months. There will be more updates though! They just may take longer then I would like. Please let me know what you guys think of this part and let me know if you have any thoughts for what might happen in future parts! As always if you have any questions about the story or AU feel free to ask, I love getting them and will happily answer any question you got (even if it’s not about this AU)! And if you want to be tagged let me know! 

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[kaiunkaiku]

Welp, I wrote a fic | Ao3

Summary: Bakugou has a shit morning. Kirishima is a ray of sunshine. Aizawa does his duty as the unofficial father figure of the class.

Warnings: Implied PTSD, mentioned vomiting and nightmares, dissociation, chronic pain, my dialogue writing, also chaotic students. Some talk of trauma and therapy, reference to Todoroki’s bullshit family life

Enjoy!

Morning classes are no one’s favorites, except for perhaps Iida’s, but Aizawa, for all his hatred for the concept of doing anything before noon, doesn’t remember encountering this kind of a situation while teaching his current class. Mornings are, of course, in general quieter than the rowdy afternoons when the kids are fully awake, but he’s not quite used to the lack of annoyed grumbling, the occasional yell or the muffled, tired shushing that’s probably supposed to be discreet.

Instead, there’s only quiet whispering throughout the classroom, and a few glances thrown at the two empty desks. Aizawa is curious himself, and possibly a tad bit concerned, but maybe the kids are late.

The dorms being a five-minute walk away should have taken care of that problem, though. Of course he understands that sometimes students are late because of traffic or something he can conveniently put in the same category, but the dorms fixed even Kaminari’s perpetual lateness for the most part, and the majority of the class usually arrives in two or three groups.

If his memory serves him right, Aizawa doesn’t remember a single case of a student being absent and nobody bothering to notify him in the entirety of his teaching career. His students, especially in their first year, tend to be properly terrified of him at least enough not to skip class.

Then again, he still hasn’t expelled a single student from this class (although if it wasn’t for the current, inconvenient circumstances, Mineta would have been at least suspended a while ago for inappropriate behavior. He regrets not doing that at the beginning of the first year).

Right now, the empty seats of Kirishima and Bakugou seem to be glaring at him. It’s way too early for this, and maybe he could chalk it up to the boys being young and hormonal and in love, but Bakugou, despite his attitude and personality, is an exceptionally diligent student when compared to most of his peers.

But the possibility of them being late still stands, so Aizawa decides to give them a few more minutes to appear with a proper explanation and goes on to read Jirou’s argumentative essay on foreign language studying in elementary school.

He has three pages left, because this girl has opinions, when out of the corner of his eye he sees a shock of blonde hair approaching him with what looks suspiciously like a smartphone instead of a textbook or a notebook. Judging from the way Kaminari’s fingers fidget around the device and the slightly terrified look on his face, he’s well aware of the fact that phones are strictly banned in the classroom with the sole exception of searching information concerning an assignment, and this could very well end up with his phone in Aizawa’s desk drawer for the remainder of the day.

Aizawa does recall seeing Kaminari fiddling with his phone earlier, too – in fact, he can just as easily recall at least Sero, Ashido and Midoriya doing the same thing, with several of their classmates occasionally checking their phones. Maybe he should have done something fifteen minutes ago, but if no one falls asleep thanks to the blue light they keep staring at, he’ll forgive them before nine AM.

Looking at Kaminari’s anxious expression as he walks to the front of the class like he probably would to an executioner that hasn’t been given an order yet, Aizawa is starting to be fairly sure he won’t be seeing Kirishima or Bakugou in his classroom today. Behind Kaminari, a few other students are nervously glancing around and furiously tapping at their phones. Several phones vibrate simultaneously, telling Aizawa with certainty that they’re all screaming in their group chat. He briefly wonders what the thing is currently named, because he knows for a fact that at one point it was called Adopted by Aizawa and another Is nobody in this goddamn class straight (that one, Aizawa wonders himself, too, at times, but considering that he’s been in a relationship with a man for well over a decade, well, he supposes he doesn’t have much to say to that).

Kaminari’s phone buzzes, too, but he doesn’t even look at it, which leads to the logical conclusion that whatever the reason is for him to be bringing a phone to Aizawa instead of an exercise, it’s more important than what’s undoubtedly obnoxious, emoji-filled caps lock mess of “what the fuck are you doing” directed at Kaminari.

Deciding to give the kid a break, Aizawa sighs and looks up at Kaminari. He makes sure not to glare, because that would be counterproductive in this situation and just slow things down, and instead schools his expression into a neutral one.

“What is it?” he asks, not quite managing to keep the sleepiness from his voice. Kaminari glances down at his phone, the light of the screen briefly reflecting in his eyes, and then focuses his eyes on Aizawa’s face.

“Um,” Kaminari starts, already stuttering on the one syllable. “I, uh, well,” he mumbles, and his eyes wander somewhere behind Aizawa and then to the desk. Aizawa raises one eyebrow as Kaminari glances at his phone again. The rest of the classroom has gone silent – even the constant buzzing has stopped.

“Kirishima says Bakugou’s sick,” he then mumbles, words leaving his mouth fast and surprisingly quiet. “That’s pretty much all I can get out of him, but, I mean…” Kaminari drifts off, glancing nervously around again, and Aizawa is starting to suspect that he’s more afraid that Bakugou will blast through a window or a wall and continue on to blow up his head for even trying to suggest such a thing than he is of Aizawa confiscating his phone. “It’s gotta be pretty bad if he’s admitting it, right?”

Inclined to agree, Aizawa nods.

Kaminari is quiet for a moment, hands still fidgeting with his phone, and Aizawa looks at him expectantly. It’s still too early for this, and he’d like for Kaminari to continue if he’s going to. It takes way too long for Kaminari to take the hint before he clears his throat.

“So, uh, I figured I should probably tell you, since you’re the teacher and all, and, uh, yeah,” Kaminari continues, fidgeting. Aizawa almost feels sorry for the kid.

The rest of the class stares as Aizawa stands up from behind his desk. It’s unbelievably quiet, and while Aizawa appreciates them worrying for their classmates, he doesn’t really care for how obvious they are about it. They’re kids, of course, yes, but they’re also future pro heroes who should not look this concerned over what probably doesn’t warrant that level of concern.

It crosses his mind that he might not know something he probably should.

He straightens himself, taking note of his stiff arms – they’re always stiff, these days, and sore, and sometimes he can’t bend them properly – and sweeps his gaze across the classroom. Kaminari is still standing in front of him, fingers curled almost protectively around his phone.

“Iida,” he starts, and said boy snaps into attention immediately. “I’m stepping out for a second. You and Yaoyorozu are in charge.” Iida vocalizes his understanding and Aizawa knows he’s going to come back to absolute chaos because that’s what his class is. “Kaminari, back to your seat. If I see your phone again today, I’m confiscating it,” he remembers to say, and Kaminari scrambles back to his seat so quickly he almost trips over his own feet.

According to the security system in place at the Heights Alliance, the building is mostly empty, with the notable exception of two people in Bakugou’s room. The system is connected to his phone, as it is to the phones of all the staff members that deal with the students on a daily basis, and this is so much better than having the bots inform him of everything back when the dorms were still brand new. The bots are bitchy.

He sends a quick message to Hizashi to please go check on his class if he can find the time, and tells him to take every cell phone he sees even though he knows Hizashi won’t do it.

The walk is short, and Aizawa soon finds himself in front of Bakugou’s room. He knocks three times and hears footsteps from the other side, and then he’s facing messy red hair, wide, red eyes, and sharp teeth, making up one Kirishima Eijirou, who has no socks on and hasn’t styled his hair up.

The visible tension in Kirishima’s shoulders drains away as he recognizes who he just opened the door to, and his whole frame slumps in relief.

“Sensei,” he breathes out, before Aizawa has time to say anything. Then his eyes widen. “Oh, crap, I’m so sorry, I swear we didn’t mean to skip and we’re not doing anything stupid during school hours,” Kirishima starts, and suddenly he’s rambling in a slightly panicked way. Aizawa decides Kirishima isn’t in trouble for this.

“I just, I couldn’t just leave him here alone,” Kirishima continues, eyes flicking to where Aizawa knows the bathroom is. Then he freezes, and Aizawa cranes his neck to see what Kirishima is looking at.

There’s a digital clock on the nightstand, and Kirishima manages to whisper a soft “fuck” before he turns back to face Aizawa, eyes wider and now looking decidedly scared. “I swear I didn’t realize it was already almost nine,” he says in a meek voice, and Aizawa finally raises his hand between them to silence him. Kirishima’s mouth snaps shut.

“You’re not in trouble,” he says, and Kirishima relaxes. “Just tell me what’s going on. You told Kaminari that Bakugou was sick?”

Moving away from the doorway, Kirishima starts explaining as he lets Aizawa in. There’s a massive All Might poster staring at him.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t actually know what’s wrong.” Kirishima moves his hands helplessly. “He had a nightmare, which is nothing new, really, he has those, I have those, I’m pretty sure everyone has those," and oh, that's probably what Aizawa should have known but didn't, "but he was really out of it after, and now that I think about it he may have had a panic attack. And he was feeling sick, and so we’ve been camping in the bathroom since then. I think it was like five in the morning. He’s thrown up a few times,” he explains, hands fidgeting, as he nudges the bathroom door open with his foot.

Bakugou looks absolutely miserable.

He’s curled up to himself, hugging his knees to his chest, leaning on the wall next to the toilet, and he doesn’t even glance at the door when it opens, instead staring at a fixed spot in front of him. He’s wearing what looks like a Crimson Riot hoodie that’s a little too big on him, and his knuckles are white. The room reeks of sickness.

Kirishima sits down on the floor next to Bakugou, moving softly, and presses a kiss to his temple. “Hey there,” he murmurs. “I came back, you’re fine,” he continues, fingers settling to Bakugou’s hair, and on some level he reminds Aizawa of Hizashi. Bakugou doesn’t react.

Crouching down sends a twinge of pain from his knees to his hips, because today is apparently a shit day pain-wise, but Aizawa does it anyway. Being on eye-level with Bakugou, the kid looks even worse; his eyes are bloodshot and lips chapped, and he looks very pale. A quick check confirms that Bakugou isn’t wearing his hearing aids, so he digs his memory for sign language – he hasn’t seen Hizashi’s parents in a while, so he hasn’t  used  it in a while. He’s not exactly fluent in JSL, but Bakugou can hear something, so he’s going to make this work.

“Bakugou,” he starts, and fuck, the kid flinches. But the vacant look in his eyes clears, if just a bit, and Bakugou turns to look at him instead of the wall. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

Bakugou stares at him for a moment, a considering look in his eyes as if he’s trying to figure out something, and then swallows thickly. Kirishima hasn’t stopped running his fingers through Bakugou’s hair, and his previously free hand has slipped to hold Bakugou’s.

“I feel like shit and I want it to stop,” Bakugou croaks, tone detached and emotionless.

“Okay,” Aizawa replies, even though that did not answer his question. But Bakugou is clearly not lying, either. “I want to check if you have a fever, which means I’m going to touch your forehead,” he explains, trying to emphasize the words with a few key signs he doesn’t think he botches. He reaches a hand forward, but Bakugou interrupts him.

“I’m not sick,” he says, still without any emotion, but he sounds surprisingly convinced of this considering the unhealthy pallor of his skin and the fact that he’s been throwing up. Aizawa quirks an eyebrow.

“I’m going through some bullshit trauma response,” Bakugou continues, clutching Kirishima’s hand, “and it won’t stop.”

Which, okay, Aizawa can understand, because he’s been there, right down to describing the post-nightmare haze as bullshit trauma response when reality didn’t feel like reality and his body didn’t feel like his body. He can’t even imagine what it must be like to go through that at seventeen, because at the very least Aizawa himself was a proper adult and an actual, full-fledged, licenced hero with several years of experience when that particular brand of bullshit trauma response first hit him. Bakugou, on the other hand, is still a teenager, a student, a kid, and so is Kirishima.

He’s throwing Bakugou back to therapy starting tomorrow.

After the incident last fall, Aizawa made sure to force every single one of his students to sit down with a counselor. That lead to a few of his students agreeing to start therapy, and Aizawa keeps careful tabs on who’s going and how the rest of them are doing mentally; Bakugou quit at the end of the school year, Iida, Midoriya, Asui and Kirishima all sat a few sessions, Todoroki is still going, and if Aizawa is being honest, he doesn’t think Todoroki will ever get out of therapy. In any case, he does not need a repeat of a student having a mental breakdown and trying to kill a fellow student.

Looking at Bakugou now, Aizawa doesn’t think he’ll resist the idea too much.

Somehow, standing up is even worse than crouching down was. His knees protest, his ankles protest, his hips, his back, everything. It doesn’t matter, not right now. He’s an adult, and a teacher, and on duty.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he starts once he’s straightened up. Kirishima’s eyes snap up to him, while Bakugou continues to stare where Aizawa’s face just was. “I’m going to call the nurse’s office, and they’re going to send someone here to give Bakugou something to calm down. You’re both excused for the day,” he adds, because he figures Kirishima wouldn’t be able to concentrate in class anyway.

“They’re gonna sedate me,” Bakugou states bluntly, and there’s still the detached tone to his voice.

“Not if you don’t want to– “

“I don’t.”

“– but they’re still going to check you up to see if there’s something else wrong. Do you still feel sick?”

Bakugou nods slowly, and Aizawa resists the urge to sigh. The poor kid is in for a long day.

 XxX

Aizawa stays with the boys until a nurse whose name he doesn’t remember determines that Bakugou is dehydrated, exhausted, and indeed going through some bullshit trauma response; he’s damn near tachycardic, and apparently he’s been dissociating for hours. He won’t talk, so Kirishima provides information where he can – Bakugou still doesn’t seem to have a full grasp on everything that’s going on around him, not to mention what has been going on for the past few hours besides feeling horrible and confused.

In the end, the nurse gives him something to help with the nausea, and convinces him that a mild sedative is a better idea than continuing to feel like shit because he’s too wound up. Getting Bakugou up from the floor turns out to be the most difficult task, because he’s stiff as all hell and shaky on his feet. He doesn’t want to be touched, which is understandable but inconvenient, and once upright he wobbles and almost crashes into Kirishima.

Bakugou seems to fall asleep the second his head hits the pillow, and the nurse gives Kirishima some general instructions like keeping him hydrated and trying to get him to eat something, and tells him to call immediately if Bakugou starts getting worse or if his condition doesn’t improve in a few hours.

Finally walking back to the main building after reassuring Kirishima that yes, taking today off is fine and no, they’re not in trouble for not showing up to class, Aizawa swallows two painkillers dry and prepares himself for the mess that his class is likely to be when he returns.

 XxX

As expected, Aizawa comes back to absolute chaos.

Kaminari is draped over Sero in a vaguely disturbing angle. Midoriya and Todoroki are hunched over the former’s desk in what decidedly does not look like studying. There seems to be a dance party at the back of the classroom, attended by Ashido, Aoyama and Hagakure, with Jirou providing music. Iida and Yaoyorozu are both sitting at their seats looking defeated.

There’s a nice couch in the teachers’ lounge. He can take a nap there. It’s fine. Hizashi can do something about his class.

[queen-scribbles]

Consequences of Being a Savior

(You can find the art masterpost here, many, many thanks to @thydonutart for doing such an amazing job!)

My contribution to the 2017 Mass Effect Big Bang, AO3 link to come for those who don’t want to read a 17k fic on tumblr.

Kaidan had always been a good soldier. He followed orders, listened to his conscience, and stuck to his loyalties. It had served him well so far, mostly because the three worked in sync.

Not today. Today his conscience and loyalty both drove him back, back, back even as Shepard’s words still rang in his ears.  

“Get out of here, go!”

“Don’t leave me behind!”

“Go, that’s an order!”

I don’t take orders from you anymore, remember? The thought hadn’t occurred until Garrus and Liara were practically dragging him to the Normandy’s medbay, and it made him sick to his stomach that he hadn’t fought harder to stay with her. “I have to go back!”

“No, Major, you have to hold still,” Dr. Chakwas admonished as she and Liara worked to remove his hardsuit. “This looks serious-”

“Doc, I can still help her! I can’t leave!” He bit down on a cough as pain flared through his side. “This isn’t that bad.”

“Bullshit,” Garrus countered from the doorway. “I watched you get sliced open by armor plating from a damn Mako, Kaidan! That’s the definition of bad.”

“I can’t leave her,” Kaidan repeated, knowing he probably sounded crazy and not really caring. “Joker!” God, raising his voice hurt. “Take me back!”

“You’re being an idiot,” Garrus growled, sharing a look with Liara, who nodded and scurried out of the room. “Shepard wanted you out, wanted you safe, and you’re trying to turn around and dive right back into the same shit she pulled you out of.”

“That’s where I belong,” Kaidan said obstinately, wincing as Dr. Chakwas applied medigel to the fiery gash across his ribcage. “With her.”

“Broken ribs and all?” Garrus asked pointedly.

“She’d do it for me,” Kaidan replied simply before hailing the pilot once more. “Joker, I swear to God, if you don’t put me down somewhere, I’ll find a way off this ship myself!”

“I see why she loves you,” Garrus muttered, mandibles clicking. “You’re every bit as stubborn as she is. I’ll go talk to Joker if you let the good doctor at least start patching you up.”

Kaidan sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Deal.”

This was a waste, they were wasting time, but Joker was apparently ignoring him, so he didn’t have much choice. 

    >>><<< 

It took some work, including weathering some very sarcastic jabs, but Joker did agree to set them down near a supply depot toward the outskirts of the fighting.

“Wait, us?” Kaidan asked when Garrus relayed the news, raising an eyebrow as he gingerly pulled his armor back on. The white-hot pain in his ribs had been dulled with medigel, but he knew from experience one wrong move could bring it screaming back.

“You think I’m letting you off this ship without backup of some kind? In your condition?” Garrus snorted. “Shepard would have my hide. Beside, I can’t help much cooped up on a ship anyway.”

Despite his injuries, despite the worry gnawing at his gut, despite everything, Kaidan couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Garrus.”

It was only a minute or two more before the Normandy touched down and they hustled off so Joker could get back to doing his part in the battle.

“So, what exactly are you planning to do from way back here?” Garrus asked, tone as bored as if they were ordering drinks on the Citadel, not staring at a hellscape littered with monsters and ruin.

“Not sure,” Kaidan admitted, staring at the distant blue beam. “But anything’s better than just watching.” Again. He thought of Alchera and his biotics pulsed brighter. “You?”

“Same,” Garrus said, reaching for his sniper rifle. “Can’t leave her, can do more good on the ground. Shall we?”  He nodded toward the distance between them and the beam.

“You know Em’s gonna yell at us when she gets back, right?” Kaidan said with a wry chuckle as they started walking.

“‘Til she’s blue in the face,” Garrus nodded, checking the sight on his rifle. “Let her.” 

>>><<<

Kaidan never could remember much about what happened between then and when it ended. Sweat stinging his eyes, Garrus hollering in triumph as he dropped targets, the dull ache in his ribs, it all blurred together.

Until the sky lit orange and the resulting energy wave turned the Reaper forces to dust. The Reapers themselves teetered and collapsed, one dangerously close to where Kaidan and Garrus had chosen to make their stand. Fortunately, they were able to shelter from the worst of it behind the foundation of what had once been a school.

Garrus tilted his head skyward. “She did it?”

“She did something.” Kaidan grinned at the cautious optimism in the turian’s voice. I knew she could do it. He wiped blood away from a small cut on his cheek and felt relief loosen the knot in his chest. It’s over. It’s over and we won. Because of her. “How do you think-”

The light of an explosion flashed above the beam.

The Citadel. “No!” He didn’t wait for the dust to clear, or check that it was safe, he just started running. The pain flared up again in his side, he could hear Garrus yelling for him to wait, but it all seemed muted. Distant. All he saw or cared about was the angry flash of yellow and orange painting the sky.

I think I’ve had this nightmare before, crossed his mind, and he pushed himself harder.

It still seemed like an eternity before he was close enough to pick up comm chatter. Shepard and Anderson had apparently made it inside but had gone radio silent before the pulse of orange light and explosion. No one was answering. The beam was still active. Should they organize search parties? Wait for the ships to return?

Hackett’s voice cut through the chaos; dividing people into groups by location grids, telling them what to do. Some would form groups to look for survivors on the ground, some would make sure there were places to treat the wounded, and those within a certain proximity of the beam would form parties to look for Shepard and Anderson.

Kaidan tried to hail, to say he was going too. He couldn’t sit and wait with jangling nerves for someone else to relay Shepard’s fate. Not again. Alchera had been its own special brand of hell. He couldn’t do it again.

But no one responded to his… well, requests was being kind. Begging. Ordering. He wasn’t sure which was more accurate, only that they couldn’t hear him. By the time he reached the beam they would all be long gone. I’m going anyway, he determined. I’ve already lost her once. I can’t do it a second time.

 >>><<<

 No one argued. Not even Garrus, when he caught up. Of course, by then Kaidan had been wading through the wreckage of the Citadel for almost two hours, so arguing would have been pointless. Garrus was smart enough to recognize that and simply joined in the search. They had a lot of ground to cover.

 >>><<<

 After two agonizingly long days, Kaidan had stopped comparing this to Alchera. It was worse.

He winced as a nearby searcher’s light flared, the migraine he’d been fighting for a day and a half gaining a foothold. He couldn’t make it much longer on stubbornness and pain meds.

“I found something!” The excited voice sounded young. Optimistic.  A few seconds later Kaidan’s omnitool beeped and he pulled up the shared image file.

Shepard’s visor. It was charred black, but the faintly visible N7 remained etched by the eyepiece.

“Where’d you find it?” Kaidan demanded, not waiting for the search leader to ask.

“Near the control spar,” came the reply, filtered through labored breathing as the soldier continued to search. “Oh.”

“What’s ‘Oh’?” This from Lieutenant-Commander Blanchard, the search leader.

“I… I think I found Admiral Anderson, ma’am.” He didn’t sound so optimistic anymore. Kaidan’s heart sank.

“Share the coordinates; Commander Shepard probably isn’t too far, from what I hear.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Another beep from the omnitool and Kaidan--along with most of the other searchers--headed for the marked coordinates. He tried to ignore the cold dread settling in his stomach, but it didn’t sound like the odds were good.

And they looked even worse than they sounded when he reached the designated location. Everything was burned, everything had collapsed. Just piles of blackened, smoking debris and ashes far as the eye could see.

How could anyone survive that? asked a voice inside his head.

I don’t know, but she did. He refused to believe otherwise.

“You okay?” Garrus laid a hand on Kaidan’s arm as he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, i’m fine.” He shook off the encroaching migraine. “I just wanna find her.”

“Then let’s get to it.”

They searched in silence. They didn’t talk about how the Normandy was missing. Didn’t mention the low odds of finding Shepard alive. Didn’t reassure each other with how often she’d beaten odds like this. They just looked. After the third time barking his shins on rubble, Kaidan was ready to levitate the whole damn mess and figure out how to sift through it that way-

His boot caught on a loop of exposed wiring and he pitched forward, narrowly missing a snapped-off beam. Even so, it was not a gentle landing. He felt it in his wrists, his head came within a hair’s breadth of hitting the ground, and the wind was thoroughly knocked out of him.

Shepard offered him a hand up, kicking the husk she’d shot off him for good measure. “Nothing’s allowed to leave you breathless but me, Alenko.”

“Son of a bitch,” Kaidan hissed under his breath as the memory faded. He shifted to push himself to his feet and froze.

There was an elbow. It poked out from under a pile of debris, barely recognizable as human for all the ash, blood, and burns. He blinked, half expecting it to vanish, to have been a figment of his imagination. But no. Still there.

“Emily?” it came out in a whisper as Kaidan scrambled on hands and knees toward that elbow. All but holding his breath, he reached out with his biotics and ever so carefully shifted some of the debris. The rest of the arm came into view, shattered and charred blue armor ending just below the shoulder--and right about a very familiar daisy tattoo. I found her.

“I found her!” he hollered into his comms, adrenaline surging. She was so still.

“The coordinates, Major. Where are you?” Blanchard’s voice squawked.

Hand shaking, Kaidan keyed in the info and tapped ‘send’ before returning his attention to the mess of rubble that was all that separated him from the woman he loved. Just looking at the pile, all he could do was numbly compare it to the highest-stakes game of pick up sticks in the galaxy. He eyed where Shepard’s arm was visible and tried to calculate how much breathing room there was for things that might move.

It could have been better, could have been worse. From his vantage point, it looked like most of the debris rested against a chunk of wall paneling that was braced up by part of a control console. They formed an unstable shelter of sorts that had shielded Shepard somewhat when the place came down. As long as he didn’t dislodge either piece, he could start clearing some of the smaller stuff. Which he did, with no hesitation

“Kaidan-” Garrus swore as he dodged a control panel casing Kaidan had chucked aside without looking. “Dammit, Kaidan, maybe you should wait-”

“I can’t,” he cut Garrus off, kicking aside a piece of cooling vent grate.

“Maybe somebody else should do this, in case-”

“No!” Kaidan very carefully brushed away a tangle of wiring, watching to insure they didn’t snag on anything. More of Shepard’s armor came in to view, cracked, charred, and--in places--sticky with drying blood. “Especially then. But she’s not.” He said the words in defiance of the cold knot in his gut. Not again. I told you you can’t do this to me again, Emmy. He gingerly started inching into the empty space. “To them she’s Commander Shepard, symbol of hope and savior of the galaxy. To me, she’s-”

“Emily,” Garrus finished for him, bending down to move what Kaidan had cleared further back in anticipation of more. “The night owl with a taste for orange jello, who talks in her sleep and is determined to make you watch Fleet and Flotilla with her at least once in her life?”

Kaidan snorted a dry laugh. “That’s her. I keep telling her, I have seen it.”

“I think the together part was her main concern,” Garrus pointed out. “The lives you two have led since you met, she wasn’t sure that day would ever come.”

“It will if I have any say in the matter. Thanks for having her back,” Kaidan said, reaching for a twisted piece of railing and carefully giving it a tug.

“No problem,” Garrus assured him.

Shepard flinched and Kaidan froze for a moment, then started feeling his way down the metal until he found where it had punched through her armor and gouged her side. His own injury seared with sympathy pain. She wasn’t impaled, technically, just really close to it. But the crumpled railing responsible was blocking his access to the debris around her head. “How close are they?”

“The other search teams?” Garrus’ armor creaked as he shifted to check his omnitool. “Just another minute or two.”

“Good. We’re gonna need them.” Kaidan severed the top part of the railing with his omniblade and tossed the metal toward the opening. He barely registered the clang as it hit the ground. He was more preoccupied with the fact Shepard was barely breathing. His cautious nature warred with the desperate urge to get her out, and Kaidan bit his lip as he shifted a hunk of something too burned and melted to recognize.

The pile creaked and groaned, settling slightly with the absence of whatever it was he’d just moved. Kaidan’s biotics flared in preparation to shield Emily from further injury. But nothing fell, and her only had to clear a few more things before he could see her face.

Saying she was a mess would have been a compliment. Between the blood, severe bruising, and broken bones, he could barely recognize her. “Emily?!”

There was the faintest twitch of an eyelid, but nothing more. Hell, he could have imagined even that. Kaidan crawled further in, practically folding himself in half to get in a position where he could cradle her head and shoulders in his lap. He had to stay bent over, the burnt wall paneling pressed against his shoulder blades, but he had her. He actually had her in his arms. Alive, if only just.

“Em? I’m here, honey.” He gingerly brushed hair out of her face. He didn’t even know if she could hear him. “I’ve got you. I…” he forcefully swallowed the lump in his throat. “I showed up.”

Now there was nothing to do but wait. 

>>><<< 

Fortunately Garrus was right. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before the rest of the search team arrived. Kaidan could hear Garrus giving them a brief rundown before a pair of incredibly young-looking privates stuck their heads in to assess the situation themselves.

“Do you have the commander secure?” one asked.

Kaidan nodded, hands resting in an instinctively protective position against Emily’s chest, her head limp against his leg. “Yeah, I got her.”

“Alright,” the other nodded. “If you have her stable, we’ll see about clearing away the debris and getting her out of there.”

“Hurry.” He didn’t care how desperate he sounded, Shepard mattered more than his pride. “She’s not doing great.”

“Understood, sir,” the first private said, and they both withdrew. Soon the sound of physical labor and the blue glimmer of biotics both reached him. Kaidaan kept a wary eye on the surroundings, fully prepared to deflect any falling debris should the need arise.

It didn’t. Lieutenant-Commander Blanchard obviously knew what she was doing, and under her direction the entire jumbled mess was hauled away mostly without incident. The only hiccup came when shifting the wall panel dislodged a large shard of window glass none of them had noticed. But since that only hit him--a glancing cut down the side of his face before bouncing off his shoulder to shatter on the ground-- and not Shepard, Kaidan couldn’t find the energy to care much.

Now that he was sitting down, without anything to sufficiently distract him, both the migraine and the burning ache in his ribs came roaring to the forefront and it was all he could do not to pass out. Finally, finally the last of the rubble was cleared and the search team moved in to stabilize Shepard and get her out. Kaidan caught vague snippets of their conversation; warning to be careful of her back and worry about nerve damage, muttered curses, but he just felt numb.

The world tilted crazily as Garrus hauled him to his feet and informed him, “You look like hell.”

“I feel like hell,” Kaidan admitted. The lights were too bright, the low chatter of the search team’s comms was too loud, his head hurt, his ribs hurt, everything was going white… 

>>><<< 

He woke up nauseous and dizzy in a blessedly dim room, groaning as even the faint light there was hit his eyes.

“Still feel like hell?”

Kaidan mustered a small, dry chuckle in response to Garrus’ question. “Worse. Where…?”

“Earth hospital. Somewhere rural enough the Reapers couldn’t be assed to level it.”

“Who said miracles never happen?” Kaidan muttered sarcastically as he sat up and rubbed his face. The migraine had retreated to the base of his skull, a dull ache just awaiting an excuse to roar back to life.

“Take it easy,” Garrus cautioned. “According to the doctor who checked you over, you pushed yourself two or three times further than the human body is usually capable of going, and I’d rather not hafta haul your ass back to bed ‘cause you tried for an encore too fast. You’re heavier’n you look.”

Kaidan snorted, then made a mental note not to do that again any time soon. “Emily’s managed to do it twice, so clearly it’s not that hard.” He looked over at Garrus. “How… How is she?”

Garrus sighed heavily, which wasn’t encouraging. “Alive. But it’s pretty bad. She unconscious and they have no idea when she’ll wake up. She’s been through a lot, her body and mind need to heal, whole bunch of medical jargon I didn’t follow.”

Kaidan swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I need to see her.”

“You need to rest,” Garrus countered, but the protest was halfhearted at best. “That part I did follow.”

“I can rest sitting in a chair next to her just as easily as I can in here and you know it.” The world didn’t start spinning like a carousel when he stood up, which was a good sign. It rocked, yeah, but it was the gentle tilting of a boat tied to a dock rather than the crazy roll of one in the middle of a storm.

Garrus grinned. “I’ll go talk to the doctor.”

“Make sure you point out it’ll keep me less stressed if I’m with her, and this way frees up a bed for someone who really needs it.”

Garrus shook his head, but there was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Spirits, try to sound less desperate, Kaidan.”

“But I like being desperately head over heels in love,” Kaidan deadpanned, which made Garrus laugh as he left the room. Once he was gone, Kaidan took a few tentative steps, just to make sure the world would hold still. It did, though the vague ache in his side reminded him he still had broken ribs.

Garrus wasn’t gone long. “Doc says if you promise to keep your ass in the chair and don’t do anything stupid it’s fine by him.”

“I promise. I don’t think I could do anything stupid even if I wanted to.” Kaidan pulled on his shirt, feeling the tug of scar tissue across his ribs. “Lead the way.”

Garrus obliged, making sure he kept his pace slow enough for Kaidan to follow. “It’ll be good for her to have you in there.”

“What, familiar face and all that?”  A thought occurred and Kaidan braced himself for the worst as he asked, “We heard from the Normandy yet?”

“Not yet.” Garrus shook his head. “Whatever Shepard did damaged both the mass relays and long range comms. We have no idea where they are, how they are, or when they’ll be back.”

“Is it terrible I’m glad we got off when we did?” Kaidan asked after a long moment of silence.

“No.” Garrus hit the button to call the elevator. “Slightly selfish, maybe but not terrible.”

The elevator arrived, blessedly empty, and Kaidan leaned his head against the wall once they’d boarded. He closed his eyes to block out the light as Garrus selected the floor they wanted. “I’m okay with being selfish for her sake.”

“Me, too.”

They were both silent the rest of the way to Emily’s room, lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t until they were standing outside the door that the first taste of nerves showed up. “When you say pretty bad…”

“She looks like shit,” Garrus said bluntly. “But the doctor I talked to, Kennedy, seemed optimistic about her chances.” He clapped Kaidan on the shoulder. “I’ll give you two some privacy while I go look for food that won’t kill me.”

Kaidan nodded mechanically and stood staring at the door as Garrus’ footsteps faded, working up the nerve to enter. Finally, with a deep breath, he reached over and keyed the panel for entry. The door hissed open and he stepped into the room.

Emily used to look peaceful when she slept. That had been one of the biggest changes he’d noticed when he rejoined the Normandy; she’d started having nightmares and restless dreams on a near-daily basis. “Consequences of being a savior,” she’d said glibly when he expressed concern. “You carry every decision. Some weigh more than others.”

She looked peaceful now, and in a moment of cynicism Kaidan wondered if that meant she was so far gone she wasn’t dreaming. That was the first thing he noticed. Second was even if, yes, she looked like shit, cleaned up she looked strangely vulnerable. Even more than she had cradled in his lap covered in blood and grime. Both probably had something to do with the nasty bruises that covered the right side of her face, as there were surprisingly few wires and tubes. That was a good sign, he supposed, as he approached the bed.

“Hey, Em,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her forehead before sitting in the chair by the bed. He slipped his hand under hers, palm to palm, careful of the splints on two fingers and the pulse monitor clipped on a third. “Is… Is this what it was like for you after Mars?” he asked, more to fill the silence than any other reason. He certainly didn’t expect an answer. He glanced over the visible bruises and bandages, knowing for every problem he could see, there were probably at least two he couldn’t. “If you felt even half this helpless, I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

He could picture her rolling her eyes and laughing. “Yeah, ‘cause you asked to be picked up by the helmet and slammed repeatedly into that shuttle. Nothing you need to be sorry about.”

“God, I miss your voice,” Kaidan murmured. A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I miss your laugh even more.” He stroked the side of her hand with his thumb. “I can’t wait til I get to hear them again.”

There was the sound of a gently cleared throat, followed by, “You must be Major Alenko.”

Kaidan’s attention shifted to the doorway so fast the jarring change in brightness made his migraine flare back up.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” the petite nurse winced in sympathy, upon seeing him grimace. “I shouldn’t have startled you. I didn’t know you were in here, or I would have-”

“It’s okay,” Kaidan assured her, the headache already receding. “And you can just call me Kaidan.”

The nurse flashed a relieved smile. “And I’m Ayeisha. I was just coming to check on Commander Shepard, make sure she’s still doing alright.”

“Mm.” Kaidan nodded, then watched her as she checked the monitors and compared what they said to the datapad she held. “How is she doing?”

“Better since she was brought in,” Ayeisha said, biting her lip in concentration as she updated the chart. “Even better than she was this morning.”

It wasn’t until he heard her say the words Kaidan realized he didn’t even know what time of day it was. But he could figure that out later; there were currently more pressing concerns. “If you don’t mind, could you tell me what all is wrong with her?”

“You want the detailed version or the ClifNotes one?” Ayeisha asked, eyes on the chart.

“ClifNotes is good for now,” Kaidan said. He wasn’t sure he was ready for the fully detailed version. Not yet.

“Alright. She has some broken bones--fingers, left foot and tibia, few ribs, cheekbone.” She gestured briefly at each as she ticked them off. “Collarbone on the right side is also broken, and that shoulder was dislocated. Between that and the bruise pattern on her face and chest, Dr. Kennedy thinks she probably hit a beam of some kind. A few second degree burns. All of that will heal, given time. Dr. Kennedy is more worried about the nerve damage along her spine. Commander Shepard took quite a beating--which I am aware is a colossal understatement--and there are places in her lower back where the nerve damage was severe enough to… inhibit movement and feeling.”

“Meaning?” Kaidan said slowly, pretty sure he knew where this was going.

Ayeisha sighed. “There’s fifty-fifty odds on whether she’ll be able to walk. And even if she can, it may be only with help, and regaining the ability will be a process. It won’t be easy.”

Kaidan snorted a quiet laugh. “Nothing’s ever easy for us.” His thumb brushed her hand again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ayeisha grinned. “I didn’t think you were, Major. Having someone who’ll stick with her will greatly aid Commander Shepard’s recovery.” She shifted her grip on her datapad. “If you don’t have any more questions, I really should get back to my rounds.”

“Of course,” Kaidan nodded. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” Ayeisha said still smiling as she left the room.

Alone once more with the near-silence, Kaidan slouched a little in the chair, searching for a more comfortable position. His own broken ribs were making that an elusive goal. He looked at Emily, brushed a lock of hair back from her face, briefly curled the silky black hair around his finger before tucking it behind her ear.

“Just rest, Em,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up, and we can handle this together. Promise.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, then settled in to wait. 

>>><<< 

It took a week. A week that seemed to crawl by like molasses uphill in January, before she woke up. Fortunately, somewhere around day four or five, Garrus convinced him to take a couple hours; shower, shave, find clean clothes, check in with Biotics Division, so Kaidan wasn’t a total wreck when Shepard finally opened her eyes.

The only warning Kaidan got was the briefest pressure of her hand tightening around his before a raspy but familiar voice whispered, ”Hi.”

Kaidan jolted upright--which wasn’t fun for his side--and gave her his full attention, even if her eyes were barely open. “Hi yourself, beautiful.”

Emily let out a sound that resembled a snort. “Not right now ‘m not,” she croaked.

Kaidan smiled, gently cupping the side of her face as he peppered her with kisses. “Yes, you are. You are the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful thing in the whole galaxy.”

She smiled--lopsided thanks to the bruising--and reached up to rest her hand along the curve of his jaw. “I think you’re biased.”

He laughed quietly, fairly sure he couldn’t have stopped grinning if ordered to. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Emily guided him him down for a soft real kiss, the metal splints encasing her fingers cool against his skin.

“So…” Kaidan began when they parted, sitting back but capturing her hand in his again. “We won.”

Emily chuckled--rusty but relieved--and scooted just a little in the bed. “I figured. And you showed up.”

He squeezed her hand. “Always.”

She smiled sleepily. “Knew you would.” Her gaze drifted over his face as if drinking in the details and she frowned slightly. “That looks like it hurt.”

“What does-” He instinctively raised a hand to the side of his face. “Oh. That. Looks worse than it is.”

“Kaidan.”

“Don’t Kaidan me, it’s just a scratch.” He couldn’t resist smiling. Sure, it was a deep scratch, but if he’d managed to forget it was there, it wasn’t too bad. “I promise, Em. It doesn’t even hurt. I forgot I had it. I’ve been much more worried about you.”

Emily let her eyes drift closed. “That’s sweet. You’re… sweet.” She was quiet for long enough he almost wondered if she’d fallen asleep before mumbling. “Where’s ev’rybody else?”

“Garrus is off trying to find more dextro-based rations, since he ran out. Kasumi and Jack both checked in to see how things are, but they’re all helping with search and rescue, as is Biotics Division. Everyone else….” he sighed. “I don’t know.”

Emily’s eyes popped open, and for a second he almost thought she was going to try and sit up. “You don’t know?! How do you not kn-” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Son. Of. A bitch. You got Joker to bring you back.”

“Guilty as charged,” Kaidan said simply. “What gave me away?”

She sighed, smiled reluctantly. “...I would’ve done th’ same thing.”

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. “That’s exactly what I told Garrus to talk him into it.” He hesitated for a second, but then had to ask. “How… How’re you feeling, Em?”

“Like hell,” Emily admitted. “But it’s more… hungover like hell than everything hurts like hell.” She relaxed, eyes drifting closed again. “They must have me on some really good drugs. Nothing really hurts. Hell, I can’t even feel my toes.”

Kaidan flinched. He was extremely glad she couldn’t see his face right now. “Get more rest, Emmy. Don’t want you overdoing it.”

“Kay, babe,” she mumbled, sounding halfway between drunk and exhausted. “Don’ go anywhere…”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

>>><<< 

Emily had never liked the sluggishly heavy underwater feeling painkillers gave her. Where thinking was an effort and moving a super-human feat. This was even worse than usual. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was missing something. She couldn’t really blame Kaidan for not wanting to focus on the probable laundry list of what was wrong with her the second she woke up. And she was thoroughly happy with the greeting she’d received. Also the fact she’d woken up at all. That was impressive to her in and of itself.

But now she was awake again and this time he wasn’t; slouched in what couldn’t be more than a semi-comfortable position in his chair and passed out from exhaustion. Emily bit her lip in concentration as she tried to shift position on the bed using just one arm. It took five minutes to move an inch or so, and she was exhausted by the time she was done.

The door hissed open as she was settling and Garrus strolled in. “Hey, Shep. Glad you’re awake again.”

“Sorry you missed me the first time,” Emily whispered, clumsily shoving hair out of her face with her good hand.

Garrus shrugged gamely. “I needed food and I knew you’d wake up again. I’m just glad Kaidan was here for the first time. He was all paranoid he’d miss it and you’d think something had happened to him.”

Emily chuckled quietly. “Let me guess, you practically had to manhandle him into a shower.”

“It was a pretty close call,” Garrus deadpanned. “If he’d taken about five more seconds to accept my promise to stay with you, I’d’ve thrown him in the bathroom and locked the door.”

She glanced over at Kaidan and smiled fondly. “Sounds like him.” They both fell silent as Kaidan shifted position in his sleep. “Thanks for watching out for him. Having his back.”

“No problem,” Garrus assured her. “He’s a friend, and I know how much he means to you. Would’ve been pretty bad for you to pull off whatever crazy shit you did to save the galaxy and then find out he got himself killed.” A teasing glint flashed in his eyes. “Hate for you to get all mopey again.”

Emily glared playfully. “Garrus Vakarian, if I wasn’t pumped full of drugs right now, I’d kick your ass to Luna and back again.”

He smirked. “You’d be welcome to try. Although technically, if you weren’t pumped full of drugs, would you even be able to stand up? Or would the pain be too much?”

She huffed in irritation but had to concede the point. “Fine. You win. Come closer so I can throw something at you. My aim’s shit with my left hand.”

“So you admit you were mopey the last time you thought you’d lost Kaidan?” Garrus probed, a chuckle underlying the words.

“No, I- Maybe. A little.” A mental image flashed before her eyes; her sitting on the floor of the Normandy’s main battery, third beer loosely in hand as she spilled her guts to her best friend. “Okay, yes. I knew I should’ve talked to Kasumi instead.”

“Then you’d just be having this conversation with her instead of me,” Garrus pointed out.

“Take pity on a poor, wounded hero and stop being so goddamn right,” Emily complained, grinning as wide as she could with one side of her face feeling like it had been stomped on by a krogan. Even the best pain meds could only do so much. “Come to think of it… what all do I have to deal with? As a, y’know, wounded hero? I can’t really feel anything ‘cause of the meds.”

He hesitated, which didn’t give her any warm fuzzy feelings. “A lot. Nothing you can’t handle, but… a lot.”

“Let me guess, it’s better if I get the details from my doctor?” she said dryly.

“That’s always the best idea,” interjected a cheerful blonde wearing a medical uniform as she entered the room. “Good morning, Commander Shepard.”

Emily couldn’t help but return the woman’s infectious smile as she replied, “Good morning, Doctor…?”

“Kennedy,” the doctor supplied. “Jules Kennedy. Glad to see you awake, Commander. The galaxy owes you a lot, it’ll be good to be able to thank you in person.”

Her conversation with the Catalyst flashed through her thoughts, and Emily’s heart constricted. “No… No thanks necessary, doctor.”

Dr. Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “I can think of several billion people who would disagree.”

Emily opened her mouth to further insist, but Kaidan picked that moment to stir. “Hey, Sunshine,” she said instead as he sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and running his fingers through his hair. It didn’t do that much for its tousled state. Not that she minded. He was cute when he was disheveled, a couple loose locks of hair curling against his forehead. “Good timing, Kay. Dr. Kennedy was just about to fill me in one what I’m facing, and the more moral support, the better.”

Kaidan nodded, blinking owlishly. “Okay.”

“Babe, do you want coffee?”

“More like need,” he admitted with a groan, scratching at his five o’clock shadow. “But that can wait if you need me.”

“Aw, you love me more than coffee,” Emily couldn’t resist teasing, regardless of their audience.

“I love you more than anything,” Kaidan said matter of factly, reaching for her hand.

“I’m gonna have to get you sleep-deprived more often, Alenko,” she said, linking her fingers--carefully--between his. “You’re really sweet.”

“Are you kidding? He’s always like this when it comes to you,” Garrus interjected dryly. “Now, what do you say we listen to the nice doctor?”

“Yes. Right. Sorry about that, doctor,” Emily said sheepishly, returning her attention to Dr. Kennedy.

The doctor waved it off. “It’s always good to see when patients have a solid support system. I’m glad to know you’re one of them.”

“Because I’m going to need it…?” Emily hinted.

“Yes,” said Dr. Kennedy frankly. “I will say, most of your injuries will heal on their own with time. The burns, broken bones… all of that will be little more than a memory in a few months’ time.” She studied the datapad in her hand. “In fact, one of the nurses has noted rapid healing in both your collarbone and ribs. Barring infection, none of those injuries should be a long-term problem.”

“So what’s going to be a long-term problem?” Emily asked, glancing at Kaidan and Garrus. They both knew, she realized when she saw their faces. They knew and they hadn’t wanted to tell her, which was a bad sign.

Dr. Kennedy gave her a sympathetic look as she answered, “There’s some nerve damage and swelling around your L-3 vertebrae and in the venous plexus. Depending on when and if they heal, you will--either temporarily or permanently--lose the use of your legs.”

Well, that explains why I can’t feel my toes. Emily blinked. Swallowed hard. “Wors… Worst case scenario, Doctor?”

Kaidan squeezed her hand as her voice went hoarse, the feel of his hand and the weight of Garrus’ on her shoulder comforting and grounding her.

“You never walk again.”

She’d figured as much. “And best case?”

“You’ll walk, but with a noticeable limp, and will most likely require leg braces or some other form of assistance. Unfortunately any implants we had that might have helped with the recovery or after have been… rendered inert,” Dr. Kennedy explained gently.

Emily winced. She knew why. You have a very twisted sense of humor, she informed the universe. “So I’ll probably wind up somewhere in the middle of that, then,” she said, thumb rubbing the back of Kaidan’s hand.

“We are going to try for best case,” Dr. Kennedy said firmly. “But I believe you should be aware of all possible outcomes. We’ve given you some anticoagulants to lower lower the risk of clots forming in your legs, and now that you’re awake, I’ll arrange to have a physical therapist come by and help you with exercises to prevent muscle atrophy while you recuperate.”

Emily just nodded, head spinning. “Thanks.”

“I realize this is some thanks for saving the galaxy, Commander,” Dr. Kennedy said wryly.

“Eh, the thank you for last time was dying, so this is a step up,” Emily snarked.

Dr. Kennedy laughed. “Hold on to that sense of humor. It’ll help a lot. Did you have any questions, Commander?”

“Not at the moment,” Emily said, running her hand shakily through her hair. Her fingers caught on a snarl and she vaguely noted the need to brush it out, maybe pull her hair up in a ponytail again. “I’ll probably think of some later, but for now… Y-You can get on with your day, doctor.”

“Very well.” With a nod and a final compassionate look, Dr. Kennedy left the room.

Garrus took one look at Emily’s face, gently squeezed her shoulder, and then followed the doctor. “I’ll give you two a minute.”

“I can leave, too, if you w-” Kaidan started to offer, but Emily shook her head.

“No. Please stay,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hand until her splinted fingers hurt. “Kaidan, I don’t…” It was a struggle to wrap her mind around the enormity of this change and what it would mean. She couldn’t keep her voice entirely steady as she tried again. “I can handle this, even the worst case, I… I know I can, but how?”

“Well, for starters…” Kaidan moved from the chair to sit on the edge of the bed. “With help. We’ll do this together, Em. You don’t have to face it alone.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss against the palm. “We’re good together, remember?”

She sniffled, fingers curling at the brush of his lips against her skin. “I know, but this is… this is a lot, Kaidan.” Garrus had been right about that. “I don’t have a place to live off-ship, and-”

“Yes, you do,” he cut her off. “I don’t know what shape the Vancouver house is in right now, but the house at the orchard is all one level, and Mom was all about spaciousness and openness when she and Dad were designing it. It’s all wide doorways, and big rooms, and not overcrowded with furniture. Even in the worst case scenario, it wouldn’t be hard to navigate.”

In a wheelchair, Emily filled in mentally as she blinked back tears. She tried to bury the wobble in her voice behind a teasing note.  “‘Spaciousness’?”

“It’s a word,” Kaidan said defensively, tracing one hand down the uninjured side of her face. “And that’s… beside the point, Em. The point is, you always have a home with me.”

She was smiling as she curved her good hand around the back of his neck and pulled him toward her until their foreheads touched. “I love you.”

There was a gentle rush of air as he chuckled quietly at her hushed fervency. “Love you, too, Em.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Though it did just occur to me that it’s more a home with us,” he corrected himself. “Mom’s still there, I’m pretty sure.”

“Ooh, I’d get to meet your mother,” Emily grinned. “I’ll try my best to make a good impression. And to not ask for too many embarrassing baby stories.”

Kaidan smiled. “She’ll love you, don’t worry.”

“Shouldn’t you check with her before promising me a place in her home?”

“I ask her, I’ll get a lecture for not knowing the answer,” he explained wryly. “And then one about being too shy to let her meet you.”

Emily smirked, her hand sliding around to cup his cheek. “I like her already.”

He gave a mock-groan and kissed the tip of her nose. “I think I’m in trouble.”

“Big time,” she agreed, feeling lighter with the assurances he wasn’t going anywhere. “But not until I leave the hospital. So you have a reprieve.”

“It’s my lucky day,” Kaidan said jokingly. He kissed her forehead and straightened. “And while I’m feeling lucky, I’m gonna go look for some food.”

“Steal me a jello cup,” Emily requested impishly.

“As you wish,” he replied with an exaggerated bow. “Be back soon. I hope.”

“Maybe check if there’s any word from the Normandy while you’re at it.”

Kaidan paused in the doorway. “You know it’s probably going to be awhile before we hear anything. Your ship has some good engines on her, and with comms messed up…”

“I know.” Emily tucked her hair behind her ear. “But it can’t hurt to check.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’ll check. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m experienced in tempering my expectations,” she replied glibly--which earned her a concerned look before Kaidan left the room. I’m just hoping Joker doesn’t completely hate my guts. She listened until his footsteps had faded and groped for the vidscreen remote. They’d taken her omnitool--if it had survived the Citadel explosion in the first place--so she’d have to go with her second choice for entertainment. She didn’t really feel like being alone with her thoughts right now. 

>>><<< 

It wasn’t more than half an hour before Kaidan came back, balancing a tray of food, but Emily was already starting to doze. She was really tired, and painkillers always made her drowsy, but she pulled herself awake when the door hissed open. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Kaidan said back, glancing at the vidscreen as he set the tray down. “Call Me Sally, Shepard? Really?”

Emily stuck out her tongue at him. “Most channels are out; it’s this or the news. I’m not ready for the news. Didja bring me jello?”

He picked up two snack cups and held them toward her. “You want orange or cherry?”

“Ooh, my two favorites. Um. You pick and I’ll take the other one.”

Kaidan gave her a knowing look, popped the seal on the orange jello, and very deliberately set that and a spoon down on the bed’s rollover tray. “You only have one favorite, and we both know it.”

Emily smiled sheepishly, then turned her attention to picking up the spoon with her left hand. “Guilty as charged. Now shush and watch the movie.”

He grinned. “You’re not the boss of me, Em.”

Quirking an eyebrow hurt, but she did it anyway. “Wanna bet?”

“Nah, it’s my job to coddle you right now,” he teased, and Emily was seriously tempted to throw her spoon at him.

“Jerk,” she muttered under her breath, unable to completely resist the threatening smile.

“I’ll pretend you believe that,” Kaidan said, still grinning. “But only for a few minutes.”

“Any longer would strain credulity,” she conceded with a wry smile. “Now, seriously, babe, shut up and watch the damn movie with me.”

>>><<< 

She fell asleep before the end, of course. With everything she’d been through, how much her body still needed to heal, it was the farthest thing from a surprise. Kaidan watched her sleep as he finished eating.

She didn’t look as peaceful. While part of him appreciated the visual cue that she was asleep rather than unconscious, he wished the nightmares would go away. She’s been through enough, given up enough, does she have to sacrifice her rest, too?

The answer became clear less than an hour later, when Emily started thrashing in her sleep and he had to call for a nurse to help hold her still so she didn’t reinjure her shoulder.

“Emmy. Em, wake up.” Someone speaking to her had worked before, but now she just kept twitching, clearly distressed by whatever nightmare had her in its clutches. “Emily. You’re dreaming, hon, wake up!”

He eyes flew open, full of a thousand emotions--none of them good--in the split second before she recognized him. “Kaidan…”

“I’m right here,” he assured her, running his fingers soothingly through her hair as she sniffled and tears ran down her face. “I’m right here I promise.”

“Don’t leave.” Her good hand settled around his wrist with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Kaidan nodded to the nurse, who made a quick note in his datapad as he left the room. Kaidan waited until they were alone and then rested his forehead against hers. This was so much worse than before. On the Normandy, when Emily’s nightmares were this bad, he could hold her. Press kisses to her hair, her shoulders, her face--wherever he could reach. Let his touch be an assurance that the nightmares weren’t real, and things would get better.

He couldn’t do that now. Between the size of her hospital bed, the IV line, and the extent of Emily’s injuries, this was the best he could do for physical contact. It made him feel so damn helpless.

“I’m sorry,” Kaidan whispered, brushing away her tears.

“Don’t be,” Emily whispered back, her thumb rubbing the inside of his wrist. “It’s not your fault. Just… stay with me.”

“For as long as you need,” he promised. 

>>><<< 

Neither of them were happy when the next week proved this to be a pattern. Especially as even the simple starting physical therapy left Emily exhausted and irritable. She would be worn out from the day, try to sleep, and wake up screaming after an hour at most. It wreaked havoc with her mood, Kaidan’s migraines, and just about everything.

Until finally, Kaidan sat on the edge of her bed, looked her dead in the eye, and as gently as possible demanded, “Alright, talk to me.”

“About what?” Emily stalled, picking at one of the straps keeping her right arm immobilized.

“You know what,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand. “I wasn’t gonna push, Em, but you keep having nightmares and getting jumpier every time you ask about the Normandy. Something’s on your mind. What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m worried about them,” she dodged, struggling to ignore the rising memory. “Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Kaidan frowned. “This seems to be something deeper for you. Talking always helped before.”

“Things change,” Emily said softly.

“Emily. The times I can make out what you’re saying it sounds like you’re apologizing. Talk to me. Please.”

She sighed. He was right; talking probably would help. She just didn’t relish the thought of reliving one of the most painful decisions she’d ever made. “Okay.”

Kaidan looked surprised she’d caved so quickly. Honestly, she was a bit shocked herself. But whether the reason was a guilty conscience or simply trusting Kaidan too much to keep this from him, she was ready to share.

“In… in order to stop the Reapers, I had to make some really hard calls. And… sacrifice friends that I didn’t want to lose.” Emily blinked back tears and Kaidan sympathetically squeezed her hand. “The last one, the one that won the war, the one everyone wants to treat me like a hero for… to destroy them, I had to destroy all synthetic life. The Reapers. Their forces. The geth. E-” Her words caught and she drew a ragged breath. “EDI.���

Kaidan didn’t say anything, just rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb.

“And now, of course, we’ve won, and I-I just… Joker probably hates me now…” Her voice trailed off in a whisper.

“Emily…” Kaidan paused, measured his words. “If he holds you responsible, I can see him being mad, but, honey, I can’t imagine a world where Joker completely hates you.”

“He should!” It wasn’t until the words burst out of her that Emily realized she actually believed them. Ashley’s family didn’t hate her for Virmire, no one hated her for the ships lost in the fight against Sovereign, or for the colonists she’d been too slow to save, and for just one of the lives lost due to her decisions, or under her command, someone should hate her. She needed someone to hate her. Because part of her hated herself. “I wanted to win this the right way. The honorable way.”

Javik’s voice rang through her mind, “Stand in the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters.”

She pulled her hand back briefly, to wipe away the tears, before willingly slipping it back in to Kaidan’s grasp. “With my… principles intact. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop… I tried so damn hard, Kaidan, and I couldn’t. I had to work with Cerberus, I had to leave Earth, I had to watch people die, I had to choose. Ever since Vimire, I’ve been choosing. And every time I made a choice for the sake of the galaxy, a little piece of me got gouged away.”

“But you’re still you,” Kaidan said quietly. “And there are people who love you just as you are, with all the gouges and cracks.”

“Yeah?” Emily had meant it as a challenge, but her voice was shaking too much.

“Yeah,” Kaidan retorted with conviction. “Everything from the hard calls you’ve made to the fact you talk in your sleep.”

Emily made a face at him. “Well, you snore,” she accused half-heartedly.

“I do not!” he protested.

“You do too! Although, it’s not loud; just this cute little background noise I use to fall asleep sometimes.”

“Oh, so I’m cute now, huh?” Kidan teased.

She knew what he was doing, and she loved him for it, so she played along. “I hate to break it to you, but you’ve always been cute, Alenko. Especially when you’re being sweet and trying to make me feel better.”

“And here I thought I was being subtle.”

“Oh no, you’re many things, dear, but subtle about making me smile is not one of them.” Emily squeezed his hand. “That’s a good thing; it earns you girlfriend points. This is just something I have to work through that I probably won’t get all the way through until the Normandy makes it back and I can talk to Joker. At the very least. I told you that some of the choices I’ve made are heavier than others. I’ll be carrying them for awhile. That’s what you’re signing up for, Kaidan. If you don’t want-”

“I said we’ll handle everything together,” he cut her off. “I meant it.”

“Just checking,” she whispered. “I’ll probably circle back to the self-loathing thing a few times.” Was that ever an understatement. “Wanted to make sure you were warned.”

“Warning noted. But it’s gonna take more than that to scare me off,” Kaidan said wryly.

“I know,” Emily smiled, and settled in to try sleeping again. 

>>><<< 

Soul-bearing conversation proved to be a source of relief when the nightmares got too bad. Even when she could see in his eyes that Kaidan was struggling with the onset of another migraine--she always feared thanks to her night terrors--he was always willing to talk her through the worst of it. He’d slip his hand into hers, or rub her shoulder, something to establish physical contact, and just let her talk. On the rare nights she managed to talk him into getting a real night’s sleep, Garrus filled in without complaint. Emily appreciated it, but there was something about the way Kaidan offered comfort that she missed when he wasn’t there.

Garrus just laughed when she admitted that to him. “Of course you do, Shepard. The two of you are head over heels crazy in love. Emphasis on the crazy. Of course he  knows you better than anyone. Even me.”

Emily smiled and huffed hair out of her eyes for the umpteenth time. “Okay, then, how do I tell him I wanna cut all of this off because it’s damn annoying to take care of with one hand?”

Garrus gave her a skeptical look. “You look him in the eye and you say ‘Kaidan, I want to get a haircut.’ What makes you think he’d have a problem with that?”

She picked at a hangnail. “He’s mentioned liking it long…”

“Shepard, it’s Kaidan. He’s been in love with you for years. That’s not going to change if you get a more manageable haircut.” He grinned. “Thought it is good to see you worrying about silly personal things rather than galaxy-altering decisions for a change.”

Emily chuckled. “I… have to agree with you there, Vakarian. It’s nice to be dealing with small scale problems.”

“Just don’t worry about them too much. You have a tendency to over-analyze things, and the last thing you need right now is to be stressing yourself out. I imagine it messes up the healing process.”

“Doesn’t do things any favors,” Emily agreed. “But why haven’t you brought up the over-analyzing before?”

“I knew you wouldn’t stop when the galaxy was counting on you. And you only did with the really important stuff.” Garrus gave her a teasing smirk. “I never caught you worrying if getting a haircut would make your boyfriend stop liking you.”

“Hey, Kaidan’s opinion is very important!” Emily protested, mock-glaring at her best friend. “To me, at least.”

“I know, Shep. I was teasing. The painkillers must be messing with your sense of humor,” he said dryly.

“I knew that,” she huffed. “Just clarifying. And I know it’s irrational to worry about him not loving me over a haircut, especially since the screaming fits that trigger migraines don’t do it-”

“You noticed that, huh?”

“I’ve been in love with the man for three years, of course I know the signs he has a migraine.” She sighed. “He’s doing so much for me, I feel bad for changing something about me that I know he likes.”

“Trust me on this, Shepard, he’s not going to mind.” Garrus patted her shoulder encouragingly and left, citing a meeting with some of the turian military leaders. Emily watched him go, wished Kasumi or Jack were closer and could visit. She loved Kaidan, and Garrus was her best friend, but some variety in her company would be nice. She only ever saw the two of them, the physical therapist, and Dr. Kennedy. A girl needed some change, and she wasn’t exactly in a position where she could go get it herself. 

>>><<< 

Garrus was right, of course. When Emily mentioned wanting a haircut to Kaidan, he just nodded and asked how short she was thinking.

“Remember that picture Ashley showed us of her sisters? I want something like Abby’s hair.”

Kaidan’s eyebrows rose fractionally as he dug up the memory but he smiled. “You’d look cute with a cut like that.”

“Cute? Cute??” Emily wrinkled her nose in mock disdain. “What if I don’t wanna look cute?”

“Then you’re in trouble, Shepard,” he said, straight faced but amusement twinkling in his dark brown eyes. “You’ve always been cute.”

“That’s my line!” she huffed, feigning grumpiness.

“However will I make up for borrowing it?” Kaidan grinned.

“I think a good kiss would be sufficient apology,” Emily said with a playfully imperious note in her voice.

His grin widened as he leaned down and kissed the end of her nose. “Like that?”

“Like this,” she corrected, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him in for a long and lingering kiss. 

>>><<< 

Her new haircut was cute. Distractingly so, which Kaidan made the mistake of mentioning to his mother during one of their calls. He immediately regretted it, but it was already too late. “What are the odds of you pretending you never heard me say that?”

His mother laughed. “Pretty dismal. The odds of me not telling anyone you said that, however, are much better.”

Kaidan smiled. “That’ll have to do, then. Did you hear back from the Bailey Center yet?”

“Yes. They’re trying to hold a spot for Emily, but there’s lots of people who need a doctor, and the center doesn’t want to turn away anyone they could help. Especially indefinitely.”

“I understand.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dr. Kennedy seemed pretty sure Em would be ready for somewhere with less intensive care by the end of the week. Can you see if they’ll try to have a spot available at that point?”

“Of course. Can’t hurt to ask,” his mother said cheerfully.

“Thanks for helping with this, Mom.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, sweetheart. You’re already juggling so much, it’s the least I could do to offer some help.”

“Still, I appreciate it. Hopefully we’ll see you soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” she said warmly. “I’ll let you know what the Bailey Center says.”

“Thanks, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too.” They both disconnected from the call.

Kaidan leaned his forehead against the window and sighed. There’s so much to do…

“That better not be the start of another migraine,” a familiar voice commented behind him.

Given that its owner was currently incapable of getting out of bed by herself--let alone walking---he could be forgiven for startling as he spun around. “Shepard, what the hell-”

Emily sat in a wheelchair, one eyebrow raised in a look of concern he knew all too well. “If that’s a migraine it’s the fourth one in two weeks and I’m telling the doctor.”

“No, no migraine,” Kaidan promised. “Just trying to make arrangement for you get out of here.”

“Sounded like you were talking to your mom.”

“I was. The place I’m hoping we can go is in Canada, less than an hour from the orchard. I mentioned it while talking to her and she insisted on helping,” he explained. “And what’re you doing out of bed?”

“Oh, Kasumi’s free to visit, and Dr. Kennedy okayed us meeting somewhere other than my room. Said we can use it as a test if I’m really healed up enough to go somewhere a little more general. What’s this place you’re tryin’ to get me in?” Emily ran her fingers through the sideswept bangs; a new habit she’d acquired with the haircut.

“The Bailey Center. Part of the complex is a hospital, and part is a rehab clinic, both inpatient and outpatient treatment. It seemed a good fit, given the circumstances.” Kaidan glanced around Emily as he finished explaining. “Where’s Kasumi?”

“Supposedly, meeting me by the gardens. But knowing her, she’s been sneaking around the place for an hour just for the fun of it.” Emily grinned. “You want to come with me?”

Kaidan shook his head. “Only if you want me to. I wouldn’t dream of cutting in on your chance to visit with a friend.”

“Okay. I shouldn’t be too hard to find if you change your mind.” She giggled at the unintentional rhyme. “Otherwise, I’ll see you later.”

Kaidan crossed the room and bent down to steal a quick kiss. “See you later. Have fun.”

“Please, it’s Kasumi. Of course I’m gonna have fun.” 

>>><<< 

She did. Kaidan used the time to check in with Biotics Division again and talk to Dr. Kennedy, who confirmed Emily had made enough progress that she would be clear to leave the hospital by the end of the week. Assuming, of course, that there were no setbacks after today.

“Also, the physical therapist tells me the exercises are working well, she’s maintaining good muscle density,” Dr. Kennedy said, looking over the notes on her datapad.

“With how much they wear her out, I’m glad they’re doing some good,” Kaidan commented.

“Oh, yes, quite a lot,” Dr. Kennedy nodded. “And remember, this is a vital part of helping her potentially walk again.”

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just hard to watch. Even harder to encourage her to keep going.”

“I understand, Major, believe me. But the swelling around the L-3 vertebrae has gone down almost entirely. So assuming the venous plexus follows suit without causing permanent nerve damage, it will greatly speed her rehabilitation if she’s ready to go soon as it’s safe.” She went on to assure him all of Emily’s broken bones were healing correctly--and faster than was typical--so the only major concerns were the spinal injury and the broken collarbone. The latter simply because it had been accompanied by a dislocated shoulder and the combination meant it would also require rehab to regain functionality.

They were still talking when Emily and Kasumi returned, both in high spirits, and Dr. Kennedy took her leave so they could visit. Kasumi didn’t stay much longer--she was working Rescue & Recovery in a particularly hard-hit area of the city--but it was enough.

Emily was practically glowing the rest of the day, which Kaidan teased about, and actually slept through the night, which Kaidan appreciated almost as much as she did. 

>>><<< 

There was no relapse following her excursion to the gardens, so Dr. Kennedy signed off on Emily moving to a rehab center at the end of the week. The good news there was it gave her something to look forward to. The bad news was it meant she barely got to see Kaidan for two days straight as he worked out all the logistics. But it all paid off and when Saturday rolled around they were ready. Garrus regretfully informed them that he couldn’t come with them but would be sure to keep in touch. The best remaining communication equipment on Earth was in London, so he had to stay close enough to tap into it, both for turian government ‘matters’ and to keep looking for the Normandy.

Much as she liked having him around, Emily had to admit making the trip just her and Kaidan was nice. They made actual small talk, dozed off with his head on her shoulder and her head leaning against his, made more small talk when they woke up. Both of them were in a very good mood as they disembarked the shuttle and approached the Bailey Center.

“This place better be as nice as you made it sound,” Emily teased, tapping her fingers against the arm of the wheelchair, mostly in an attempt to burn nervous energy and resist scratching under the sling strapping her right arm against her chest.

“It is,” Kaidan promised, tightening his grip on the wheelchair’s handles as the walkway sloped upward. “I had a buddy who came here for rehab after he lost an arm. I visited a couple times. It always seemed really nice.”

Their first look inside and conversation with the administration staff bore that out. The process of admission went relatively fast, and soon they were following an orderly through the halls to Emily’s room. The woman spoke as they went, explaining some of the amenities, scheduling for therapy, visiting hours, various other things, finishing with, “Unfortunately, Commander, the only space we had as in a two-bed room, so you’ll have a roommate.”

Emily shrugged, glancing up at Kaidan. “Nothing unfortunate about that. I don’t mind sharing. Besides, we didn’t give you much in the way of advance notice.”

The orderly looked relieved. “From what I understand, he’s wanted the privacy partition extended most of the time, anyway. Not much of a people person.”

“To each their own,” Emily said. “I mean, an introduction would be good, but other than that, if he wants to be left alone, I’ll leave him alone.”

The orderly chuckled. “I think he already knows who you are, Commander. We’ve tried to keep it quiet you were coming here, but rumors always find a way.”

“Are we going to have to worry about press or anyone else?” Kaidan asked, sounding concerned.

“Outside, yes probably,” the orderly conceded. “But we have very good security, so you should be undisturbed.”

Emily nodded, nervously picking at a hangnail. The last thing she needed as the press figuring out Commander Shepard had PTSD and couldn’t stop having nightmares that woke her screaming. She felt bad for her new roommate. Hopefully he was the type who slept like a rock.

It was only another minute or so before they reached the room. The other bed was empty.

“His daughter must be visiting,” the orderly said, keying in a command on the partition controls so it slid three quarters of the way across the room. “They usually go for walks when she comes. I’ll leave you to get settled in. Unless you need help…?”

“We’ll be fine,” Emily and Kaidan said simultaneously. “But thanks for offering,” she smiled.

“Okay. Call button is there, if you need anything. The remote for your vidscreen is in the same cluster. Can’t promise what channels we’ll have; it’s been changing week to week as they make repairs.” With one final smile, she left the room.

As her footsteps faded down the hall, Kaidan circled to the front of the wheelchair. “Ready, gorgeous?”

Emily rolled her eyes but smiled as she held out her left arm. “Ready, handsome.”

Kaidan leaned closer and she wrapped her arm around his neck so he could pick her up, bridal style, to transfer her to the bed.

“Gee, without the armor, you’re not that heavy,” he said glibly. “I could hold you like this for a long time. Hours, even.”

“Yeah, well, don’t.” She couldn’t really do anything, and they both knew it. With three out of four limbs currently incapacitated, she was at his mercy.

“What’s the magic word?” Kaidan whispered, moving toward the bed.

“Please,” Emily whispered back, kissing the tip of his nose. “Please don’t.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” He gently settled her on her bed. “I like that this is wider than the last one. Y’know, in case you require comforting.”

“That will come in handy,” she agreed, keeping her tone light and deliberately not thinking about the circumstances that usually led to her requiring comfort. She ran her fingers through her hair as Kaidan got her all tucked in, brushing her bangs out of her face and pushing a couple loose locks back behind her ears. “Thanks.”

They both knew she meant for more than tucking her in.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Kaidan replied softly.

“C’mere,” Emily murmured, tugging him in close and resting her hand against his cheek. “I am so incredibly lucky to have you in my life, Kaidan Alenko.” Her thumb rubbed absently against his stubble. “And I am incredibly grateful that I got so lucky.”

“Right back at you, Em,” Kaidan said softly, covering her hand with his own. “Besides, I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I let you carry the weight of the galaxy by yourself.”

She snorted a laugh. “Hell yeah, you would. In that case, I’d’ve dumped you for Garrus.”

He pulled back slightly, raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

Emily giggled and patted his cheek. “No. He’s too much like my brother. It would’ve felt weird. ‘Sides, you’re the only one for me, Alenko.”

“Gee, thanks, Shepard,” Kaidan said glibly, teasing glint in his eye. “I think you’re pretty neat yourself.”

“Jerk,” she grumbled half-heartedly around a smile.

“I’ll pretend you believe that.” He kissed her forehead. “For a couple minutes.”

>>><<<

Kaidan stayed for another hour, which, as it turned out, was long enough to meet Emily’s roommate and his daughter when they got back from their walk. He proved to be a reticent individual, and his daughter introduced him(Eric) when she introduced herself(Nora). From their brief conversation Emily gleaned that Eric was a member of the local security forces and had been injured in an explosion when the Reapers first hit Earth. He was almost completely recovered, but there was some nerve damage that was holding him back.

It was at that point in the conversation that Eric grumbled something about them not caring about his life story and would she just help him with his damn pain meds? Which prompted Nora to smile apologetically and promise they could chat later as she ushered her father to his side of the room.

Emily watched as they went, noting the silver gleam where his left ankle should have been, the scars on that side of his face, coupling them with his clearly amputated arm, and winced internally at how nasty this explosion must have been.

She looked up at Kaidan as the privacy partition slid closed behind Nora and Eric. “I’d bet you my model ship collection he was military before he was local security.”

Kaidan shook his head. “I wouldn’t take that bet; I think you’re right.”

“Bet he’s goin’ stir-crazy being sidelined like this. Hell, I’ve only been out of service a month and I’m going stir-crazy.”

“Think you’ll be able to get along?” Kaidan asked, nudging her good shoulder.

“I can get along with anyone,” Emily joked. With the right personality adjustments. “But in all seriousness, if he wants to be left alone, I’ll leave him alone. It’s not like I was planning any wild parties.” She squeezed his hand. “Now, you go see your mother.”

“You sure? I can stay if you want company a little longer,” Kaidan said. “It’ll take long enough to get to the orchard that I wouldn’t make it back before visiting hours are over.”

“I’m sure. Your mom hasn’t gotten to see you in months, babe, and I’ve had you almost every day. I’ll still be here tomorrow, probably watching some cheesy dramedy that I’ll cajole you into watching with me. Go hug your mother. And give her one for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kissing the back of her hand before he left. “See you tomorrow, hon.”

“See you then,” Emily nodded, part of her missing the feel of his hand as soon as it left hers. 

>>><<< 

Getting to the orchard was easier than Kaidan had expected. He’d been worried transportation services wouldn’t be running, that there would be a lot of debris to avoid, but neither turned out to be entirely true. It was a skeleton crew, and with the “alternate route” they had to take to avoid destroyed roads and razed buildings, it wound up costing an arm and a leg, but it was nowhere near the hassle he’d feared it would be.

He mother was waiting for him out front and barely gave him time to get out and pay the cabbie before she was folding him in one of her tight hugs. Kaidan hadn’t realized how much he’d missed them until now.

“Hi, Mom,” he said warmly, returning the hug. “How’re you doing?”

“Gettin’ along,” she replied with a chuckle. “Much better now that I’ve seen you. I’ll be even better once I have solid news about your dad.”

Kaidan frowned as he pulled back from the hug. “Still don’t know?”

His mother shook her head. “He’s still MIA. At this point I just want to know, one way or the other.”

He nodded. “I know the feeling.”

She gave him an understanding smile. “Better than I do, even. On that note, how’s Emily? Still distractingly cute?”

“I knew saying that was gonna swing around and bite me in the ass,” Kaidan grumbled lightheartedly as he followed her into the house.

“Honey, it’s adorable the way she makes you get all sappy. I remember what you were like after Alchera. She’s good for you. And I’m sure you’re good for her.”

He smiled. “So she claims. I do my best.”

His mother returned the smile with one of her own. “Come on, you can tell me how she’s doing while we get you settled in.” She glanced at his one small bag. “Is that all you have?”

Kaidan shrugged. “Most of my stuff is on the Normandy, and that’s still missing.”

“Well, good thing you left some of your things here. You should have enough to get by.”

“Hopefully. And on the subject of Emily… I’m worried about her,” he admitted. He hadn’t even let himself think it until now, but as the words passed his lips, he realized how true the were. “She’s says she’s okay, acts like everything’s fine, still sounds like herself…”

“But?” his mother prompted.

“But she had to carry the weight of the galaxy for far longer than any one person should, and she paid a heavy price to save it. She’s been having nightmares for months, but they’re worse now, and she’s been picking at her hangnails.”

“Lots of people do that,” his mother said, tapping on the the lights as they stepped into his bedroom.

“Until they bleed, Mom,” Kaidan clarified. He dropped his bag on the bed and sat next to it. “Em’s always picked at them, bitten her nails. But she’s never done it ‘til she bleeds before. And I’m just trying to figure out how I can help her…”

His mother sat next to him and squeezed his hand. “From the sound of things, keep doing what you’re doing. Be there for her, comfort her, make sure she knows you’re not going anywhere, and that she can talk to you about anything. That’s the best thing you can do for her. The rest she has to do herself.”

“Sounds like experience talking.”

“It is. Experience is how you get to be as wise as I am,” she teased.

“The truth comes out,” Kaidan said with a chuckle, eyeing the silver streaks through her dark hair. “Well then, O Wise Woman of Vancouver, I have another conundrum you could help me with.”

His mother nodded, eyes twinkling with mirth as she played along. “Of course, young man. How can Mother Alenko aid you today?”

“Em’s birthday’s in just over a month, and I have no idea what to get her as a present.” 

>>><<< 

No matter how much you loved Fleet and Flotilla, there were only so many times it could be watched in a month before you wanted to shoot both the leads in the head. Rather than reach that point with one of her favorite movies, Emily flipped off the vidscreen as soon as she saw the familiar opening credits.

She laid back and glared at the narrow black band around her left wrist. It didn’t do much good to have her omnitool back with her other arm and hand still immobilized. She couldn’t really do anything with it.

Emily ran through other options. Eric still had the privacy partition closed, and she she’d promised to leave him alone if that’s what he wanted, anyway. She hadn’t brought anything to read, and her audiobook collection was on the Normandy. Thinking about the Normandy made her think about Joker, which made her stomach flip uneasily, so she tried to distract herself.

Only one method came to mind. She stared hard at her feet and focused on trying to curl her toes. Five minutes, then ten. Nothing. Not the smallest little twitch to give her hope.

That’s okay, she decided. I’ll just keep trying. And trying. And trying, if that’s what it takes. Odds be damned, I will walk again. 

>>><<< 

Their pattern of all-day visits was broken about a week in, when Kaidan arrived to find Emily asleep.

“Therapist wore her out,” Eric said gruffly when he saw Kaidan enter.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Kaidan nodded, earning him a grunt of acknowledgement from Eric even as the man jabbed at the button that would close the partition again. Nothing new there, he thought, in reference to both Eric and Emily being worn out by the physical therapy. Now that there was no immediate danger of a relapse, her new therapist was pushing harder than the previous one.

He settled into a chair and brought up his omnitool to check his messages while he waited. There were a couple from Hackett that he just skimmed, one from Garrus reporting on the progress--or lack thereof--finding the Normandy. Wouldn’t that be a great birthday present; if I could give her good news about the Normandy… Kaidan sighed. Joker must’ve been flying that ship like a bat out of hell. Either that or they’d sustained heavy damage wherever they landed. If they landed.

As if she’d caught the negative direction of his thoughts, Emily flinched in her sleep. Kaidan barely had time to think Not again before flinching turned to thrashing and he had to climb in the bed to hold her still. She’d had three good days in a row; both of them had been hoping that meant the nightmares wouldn’t be such a problem anymore.

“Emily, wake up.” As always, he started quiet. Gentle. When that didn’t work, he progressively raised his volume  until it did. “Emmy, wake up!”

As always, she woke like she’d been drowning, breath catching raggedly in her throat, clinging to him desperately. As if afraid she’d go under again. A soft “No…” slid, barely audible, from her lips.

“Emmy, sweetheart, I’m right here.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, settling her back against his chest. “You’re safe. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

She clung to him, breathing hard, and rolled her head so her temple rested against his cheek. “I want them to stop.”

Kaidan held her tighter, his thumb rubbing circles against her shoulder. “I know, sweetheart. And if I could make them stop, I would.Is there anything I can do…?”

“You’re doing it,” Emily whispered, fractionally loosening her grip on his arm. “Just hold me. And maybe come up with a distracting topic of conversation.”

“Okay. What do you want for your birthday?”

“What?”

“Your birthday. It’s in three weeks, Em, and I have no idea what to get you.”

She thought for a minute, lightly biting her lower lip. “There’s… not really anything I want. Aside from the Normandy back and the ability to walk. Don’t think you can give me either of those.”

“Well, you’re damn unhelpful,” Kaidan complained teasingly.

Emily elbowed him in the ribs. “Terribly sorry I’m so content with what I have, Alenko. My audiobook collection’s pretty complete, I have all the ship models I want.” She snorted a rueful chuckle. “I do miss Boo, though, so if you could find a way to make my hamster magically appear in the rehab center, that would be pretty cool.”

“But if I could do that, I could make the Normandy magically appear somewhere,” Kaidan countered. “Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Good point. You’ll have to keep thinking, babe. I don’t have any ideas for you.”

“Drat.”

She laughed and reached up clumsily to pat the cheek she wasn’t leaning against. “You’re a smart man, Kay. You’ll think of something. Worst case scenario, promise to watch Fleet and Flotilla with me and that’ll be present enough.”

“Deal,” Kaidan nodded. “But hopefully I can do better than that.” 

>>><<< 

It took him almost the entire three weeks, several more brain-picking conversations with his mother, and a couple chats with Emily’s doctors, but Kaidan did figure out a better present than promising to watch a movie with her. Two, in fact.

The first being that his mother came with him to visit Emily on her birthday. The second…. Well, the second waited inside a large box that he had to use both hands to carry and that wouldn’t stop wiggling. 

>>><<< 

Much as she was looking forward to Kaidan’s visit and satisfying her burning curiosity in regards to what he’d gotten her, Emily greatly appreciated the universe’s birthday present as well--a solid night’s sleep. No nightmares, no ghosts, just blissful, dreamless oblivion. It was a promising start.

And it only got better from there.. Just a couple hours after visiting hours started she heard Kaidan’s familiar footsteps in the hallway, accompanied by another, lighter set. She was grinning even before they reached the room.

Emily gave Kaidan a small, excited wave. “Hey, babe.”

He smiled back and sat down the box he was carrying on the chair so he could lean over and give her a kiss. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m guessing you had a good night?”

“Best one in a month,” she confirmed, pulling back for a second kiss..

“Good. Happy birthday, Em.”

“Thanks.” She looked past him and smiled. “You must be Mrs. Alenko.” Carefully, proudly, she held out her right hand to shake. The sling and straps had only come off a week ago, and her shoulder was still a little stiff, but there, at least, the physical therapy had been helping.

Kaidan’s mother stepped forward as he stepped back, and bypassed the offered handshake to hug her instead. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Emily,” she said warmly. “But none of this Mrs. Alenko nonsense. Call me Rae.” She tossed a sly glance toward her son. “Or should we just skip straight to Mom?”

Emily laughed at Kaidan’s expression. “Oh, I like you. I think we’ll go with Rae for now, and save Mom for when it actually applies? But it’s good to know where you stand on that issue.”

Rae chuckled. “Thanks, I like you too. We’ll go with your plan, birthday girl, I just think it might save some time down the road,” she winked.

Kaidan cleared his throat. “Mom.”

“Alright, no more hinting, I promise,” She held up her hands in surrender as she stepped back from the bed. Emily noted with no small amount of amusement that Rae was only a couple inches shorter than her son. She’d always assumed Kaidan’s mother was a tiny bundle of enthusiasm and personality. She’d been laughably wrong.

“So, I’m dying to know what’s in the box…” Emily hinted, raising her eyebrows at Kaidan as the box in question wobbled.

He laughed. “Don’t you want to get out of bed first?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure, whatever.” She held out one arm expectantly and shoved down the covers with the other. “Wipe that grin off your face.”

Kaidan ignored the teasing order as he scooped her out of the bed. “You’re not my boss.”

“No, but shouldn’t you be humoring the birthday girl?”

“Touché,” he grinned, depositing her in the wheelchair and helping her get settled. “Alright then…”

Emily pretended not to notice when the lid bucked upward as Kaidan retrieved the box. “Pretty bow,” she commented, rubbing the pale blue ribbon between two fingers as she worked the lid loose. She’d hardly made any progress when it popped free on its own and fell to the floor. She found herself staring into a pair of mismatched eyes--one blue, one brown--set in the most adorable patchworked puppy face she’d ever seen.

“You got me a dog?!” She reached for the wriggling rust and cream-colored furball at the same moment the puppy launched herself forward to lick the new person and barely caught her. “Whoa! Much as I love the gesture, babe, I don’t think pets are allowed in here…”

Kaidan smiled, almost but not quite smug, as he watched her scratch the puppy’s ears. “She’s not technically a pet, hon.”

“She’s not?” Emily said skeptically, trying to fend off a thorough tongue bath with one arm while keeping the puppy in her lap with the other. “What is she, then?”

Kaidan traded looks with Rae. “A therapy dog.”

“Did… you make that up so you could give me a pet ‘cause I said I miss Boo?” Emily giggled.

“Nah, if it was that I would’ve just smuggled in a hamster,” Kaidan deadpanned. “Therapy dogs are a real thing, Em. Been around for decades. They’re used to help people who suffer from PTSD, night terrors, other trauma, feel safe.” He shrugged, reaching down to pet the puppy. “I figured if I can’t be here for you 24/7, Harmony’s the next best thing.”

“You are rather like a snuggly puppy,” Emily teased--before remembering his mother was in the room. The two of them glanced simultaneously over at Rae, who was kicked back in her chair with a huge grin plastered across her face.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” she said, grin never wavering. “I’m having a grand old time just watching you two.” She tucked her hands behind her head, cupped under her bun, and settled in more comfortably.

Emily cleared her throat self-consciously. “So… Harmony, huh? That’s her name?”

“Uh-huh.” Kaidan continued petting the puppy as he explained, “She’s an Australian shepherd-”

“Just like me,” Emily muttered under her breath, grinning impishly as she ruffled Harmony’s ears.

“You’re only half Australian and you know it,” he corrected with a laugh. “Now shush and let me finish. In addition to being a therapy dog, she has training as a service animal. So while you’re recovering--or even if you don’t all the way--she can help with things. Her trainers gave me an OSD with all the info and commands she knows. We can go over it together later, I figure for now you’ll want to get to know her.”

Emily nodded, then returned her attention to the puppy sitting patiently in her lap. “Are you gonna be my helper, girl?”

Harmony’s tail beat a happy pattern against Emily’s knees.

She grinned as she scratched under the dog’s chin, earning a please whine. “Can I call you Mo? Is that acceptable? ‘Cause I really like my pet names to have only one syllable.”

An affirming bark and more face kisses were her answer.

“Okay, Mo it is.” Emily ran a calming hand over the puppy’s head. “Shh.” She leaned to the side and place her on the floor. “Mo, sit.”

Mo sat.

“Good girl,” Emily praised, then smiled up at Kaidan. “Thanks, love.”

“You’re very welcome.” He knelt by the wheelchair and kissed her temple. “I’m just sorry we haven’t found the Normandy yet. I know it still being missing is bothering you, and having news would’ve been a great birthday present.”

“Yeah, it would’ve,” Emily agree, fingers snagging the collar of his shirt. “But I have everything I need right here.”

He smiled and let her pull him in for a kiss. 

>>><<< 

It was a good day, one Emily and Kaidan both planned to treasure for a long time to come. Rae left after a couple more hours, smiling as she said “to give you kids some privacy.” They didn’t use it to do anything exciting; just went through all the trainer’s instructions and videos for working with Harmony. Practicing with the dog ate up the rest of the day, and before they knew it, they were kissing goodnight so Kaidan could leave before they got a talking to. Again.

The next couple days were fairly standard, but then came the day Emily wasn’t in her room when Kaidan got there. Harmony and her wheelchair were both missing too, indicating this had been very much on purpose.

Still, he couldn’t help but blink in surprise at her absence. They’d gone on walks before, of course, but she’d always made a habit of waiting for him. He leaned around the partially open partition and checked that Eric was both there and awake before asking, “Did Emily happen to mention where she was going when she left?”

Eric shook his head. “No. But it sounded like she was crying. Or about to. Same difference.”

“Thanks.” Kaidan retreated and left the man to his solitude. Crying was a bad sign. As was the fact she’d actually left the room to do it. The privacy partitions were almost completely soundproof; she wouldn’t have been bothering Eric even in the room. He sighed and went looking. He’d find answers when he found her. 

>>><<< 

It took an hour. An hour Kaidan spent growing increasingly nervous and wishing he’d gotten Harmony chipped. He finally found her in a lonely, mostly empty, corner of the atrium’s upper level, staring out at the rain pelting the area. “Emily, what’s wrong?”

A slight flinch of one shoulder was the only evidence she’d heard him, but Harmony looked up before licking tears off Emily’s chin. Kaidan sat on the bench next to her chair and waited.

After a long moment, she sniffled and swiped at her tears with one hand. “Do... you know what today is?”

“No,” Kaidan had to admit, after wracking his brain for the possible significance.

“It’s Ash’s birthday,” Emily whispered, self-consciously rubbing the daisy tattoo on her shoulder, gaze still fixed out the window as she traced the blue-tinged petals.

“Oh.” He couldn’t really think of anything more to say. He knew of all the friends she’d lost and all the death she’d seen, Ashley still haunted her the most. “Em…”

“She would’ve… she would’ve been twenty nine,” she said, finally turning to look at him. “Twenty nine, Kaidan. She was only twenty five when-” Her words caught in her throat and she choked back a sob before whispering, “So. fucking. young.”

“Sweetheart-”

“You’d think, after three years I’d handle this better,” Emily pressed on raggedly, cutting him off. “But I can’t. She was the first real friend I ever had and I killed her, and I can’t…”

“Hey,” Kaidan said softly, moving to kneel in front of her and take both her hands in his. “That was not your fault. You said it yourself; it was Saren’s.”

She gave him a weak approximation of a smile and shook her head. “I can only believe that three hundred and sixty three days of the year. The other two... It was my mission, my call, my choice. I chose.” She pulled one hand free to thump accusingly against her chest. “Not Saren, me. And while I don’t regret for one second still having you with me--” she reached out to cup the side of his face--”I wish the price hadn’t been so damn high.”

He was quiet for a long moment, choosing his words with care, before simply acknowledging, “So do I.”

Emily stared absently at their joined hands, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.  “Y’know, her mother never blamed me. We talked a few times, between Sovereign and the Collectors. She never blame me, never accused, never seemed resentful, just wanted to share stories.” Another tear rolled down her cheek and dripped onto Mo’s head. “Same with Sarah; I checked in with her during the Reaper War and same thing. She didn’t… she wasn’t angry or anything, just wanted to talk about Ash.”

“Honey,” Kaidan said slowly, “maybe the only one blaming you for Ash’s death is you.”

“Someone has to,” she muttered.

“No, they don’t,” he contradicted swiftly. “That’s bullshit. It wasn’t your fault, Em. You did everything in your power to save both of us, despite knowing it was most likely impossible. And if Saren hadn’t shown up and forced you to deal with him, you probably would’ve pulled it off.”

“You don’t know that,” Emily sniffled, one corner of her mouth quirking toward a smile regardless.

“Yes, I do. You are an amazing woman, Emily. If anyone could pull something like that off, it would be you.” Kaidan tilted his head so he could kiss her palm as it rested against his cheek. “And Ashley would kick your ass if she knew you were still wallowing in guilt about Virmire. So, to change the subject: favorite memory?”

“Of Ash?” Emily gave a shaky laugh as she thought about it. “Either getting our tattoos--because that was a fun day-- or when we helped track that black market mods dealer. Huh, nobody died.”

He smiled and moved back to sit on the bench, still holding her hand. “I could shoot someone if it would make you feel better.”

She actually, honestly grinned as she finished the remembered exchange. “Nah, I’m good. What about you? You have a favorite memory?”

Kaidan chuckled sheepishly. “Probably when she cleaned us out at Skyllian Five and didn’t let us live it down for a week. Or the time she quoted the entirety of some long-ass poem to shut Garrus up when they were arguing about… something. I can’t even remember any more.” He snorted. “Ironically, I think it had to do with human memory spans or capacity, or something like that.”

Emily giggled. “Didn’t we challenge her to a rematch over that Skyllian Five game?”

Kaidan nodded. “And she slaughtered us again. After which I gave up and you insisted she teach you her tricks. She ever get around to that?”

“A little,” Emily said. “We’d only had time for her to pass on one or two before…”

“Virmire,” he finished, and she nodded.

“I miss her,” she admitted softly. “So much.”

“I know,” he replied.

They sat for a few hours, reminiscing, before making their way back to Emily’s room. It wasn’t until after he left that night Kaidan realized Emily’s t-shirt had born 212 emblazoned across one sleeve.   

>>><<< 

The next several days were all good, which was a blessing, and the nights weren’t terrible, which was a damned miracle, far as she was concerned. She never went further than mumbling in her sleep--according to Eric, who was up thanks to insomnia. What nightmares she could remember having were vague and tame compared to most she’d had, and faded on their own.

Emily credited Mo for the improvement. Having the dog’s warm body snuggled against her while she slept was a big help. And--in theory, at least--Mo could rouse her if the nightmares got too bad. But they hadn’t. Yet. So she enjoyed not having dark circles under her eyes and having enough energy to banter with her physical therapist as the woman took her through the leg exercises. Even if they were hell, as always.

Still, she was in a good mood. A good mood which only improved when Fleet and Flotilla came on while Kaidan was visiting. It only took minimal cajoling to convince him to spend a chunk of visiting hours watching a movie. Especially after she also convinced her doctor to let them ignore said visiting hours “just this once”.

“That feels almost like abuse of power,” Kaidan teased, as the movie went to a commercial break.

Emily snorted as she adjusted Mo’s position to be more comfortable. “Please, I saved the galaxy twice and humanity three times. They can give me one night in rehab where I get to hang out with my boyfriend as long as we damn well please.”

He laughed. “I like the way you think.”

“So do I,” she grinned, squeezing his hand. “Except when my brain plays tricks on me. Today during PT, I could’ve sworn I felt the therapist’s hand on my ankle at one point. But I closed my eyes and couldn’t tell when she took her hand away.”

“Laura does have a light touch,” Kaidan reminded her.

Emily shook her head. “Not that light. It was just wishful thinking on my part, since Dr. Ahn mentioned all the swelling’s going down.”

“Give it time. There’s still a chance.”

She was saved from replying as the movie came back on. 

>>><<< 

It was a good thing she’d talked her doctor into letting Kaidan stay. The nightmares came back with a vengeance that night, worse than ever before. Ashley, Legion, EDI; all of her ghosts showed up. Some asked why, the faceless masses who had died on Earth, on Palaven, on Thessia stood in silent judgment that she’d been too slow. But worst by far was Ashley’s look of simple forgiveness. She understood. She didn’t blame Emily for having to choose, and that cut deeper than anything. Her guilt was like quicksand, rising to swallow her whole.

She struggled against it, but some of the faceless dead put hands on her shoulders and pushed her deeper. “No!”

A brief vision flared; elevator doors closing behind Mordin.

“I couldn’t stop him-”

It shifted to Thane, motionless in a hospital bed as Kolyat stood beside him.

“I couldn’t save-”

“Couldn’t,” the ghosts echoed.

“I’m sorry!!”

“Sorry…” they droned, pushing her down still further and wading in so their bodies melded with the quicksand dragging at her limbs.

“No, no, let go!” she begged, pulling hard.

“Emily,” Ash said, but it wasn’t her voice. More her voice mixed with Kaidan’s, fading to sound more and more like him. “Em, you’re dreaming, wake up!”

“I can’t!” she cried, the words falling in a muted echo as the hands settled like cold weights on her arms.

“Emily, wake up!”

With a wordless cry of panic, desperation, and just a little bit of rage, Emily pulled free of the hands and fought her way out of the quicksand, out of the nightmare--

And woke to Kaidan’s face mere inches from her own. His expression was stunned more than concerned, which she barely noticed as she gasped for breath.

Until he spoke, hardly audible over Mo’s concerned whines. “You kneed me in the back, Em.”

“Sorry,” Emily mumbled, still disoriented and fighting for equilibrium.

“No, Emmy.” Kaidan cupped her face in his hands, fingers buried under her disheveled black locks as he tipped her chin she’d meet his eyes. “You kneed me. In the back.”

One blink. Two. She was halfway through the third blink before the meaning of his words registered. “I did?!”

He grinned at the hope in her voice and kissed her almost triumphantly. “I can show you the bruise if you want.”

Emily giggled. Which turned to laughing. Which was quickly accompanied by tears. “That’s okay,” she managed. “I trust you.”

Mo hopped up on the bed and whined again as she started licking away the tears, pushing Kaidan out of her way.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m okay,” Emily sniffled, laughing as she gave the dog a reassuring pat. “Mommy’s fine.” She looked up at Kaidan. “So, do we call someone from the night shift and tell them? Or do we wait until tomorrow and tell either Laura or Dr. Ahn then?”

“It’s up to you,” Kaidan said, reaching over Mo’s head to tuck back Emily’s hair.

She deliberated for a few minutes, attempting to curl her toes--with no apparent success--the whole time. “We can wait ‘til morning. There’s no real rush, is there? And I’m really tired. Just remember what time it happened and I think it’ll be fine.”

“Alright, Now, no offense to Harmony, but I think I’m going to take over cuddling duties for the rest of the night.”

“Why not just share?” Emily pointed out, and waited until he was settled behind her, her back against his chest, and then patted a spot for Mo. The puppy cocked her head, but crawled to the indicated position without complaint. “See? Perfect. Nightmares begone.”

Kaidan chuckled and kissed behind her ear. “Hopefully that works.” 

>>><<< 

It did. There were no more disturbances until morning when Dr. Ahn came to check on Emily. She and Kaidan reported the events of the previous night, which the doctor described as “encouraging”  but warned Emily not to get her hopes up. “This happens sometimes in patients with injuries similar to yours; they experience some muscle spasms but never regain full mobility.”

“Noted,” Emily replied, but when Laura came to do PT, she told her, too.

Laura grinned in response and used a firmer hand than usual in the morning’s exercises--a firmer hand that Emily felt. Only around her feet and ankles, and she still had no movement below her hips, but it was enough for now. Little victories and all that.

Over the next few weeks, she regained more and more feeling in her legs. It happened slowly, sometimes with days between changes, but eventually she could feel everything again. It was no small source of irritation that mobility didn’t accompany the feeling, but Dr. Ahn and Laura both assured her this was a good progress, a sign the nerves weren’t irreparably damaged and just needed time to heal. Which was great and all, but the one downside to getting back feeling before function was all the exercises Laura had her doing hurt so much more but were still necessary.

Still, with the hope of walking tantalizingly close, Emily powered through. Usually with help, or at least moral support, but today Kaidan’s omnitool beeped and he excused himself midway through. He didn’t come back until she was finished, and he was grinning. Completely disregarding the sweat and frizzy hair, he bent and kissed Emily’s forehead.

“You want some good news, gorgeous?” he asked, handing her a glass of water.

“My favorite kind,” she panted, waving goodbye to Laura and gulping half of the water in one swallow.

“Well, first of all, they have enough of the network running again that Galaxy of Fantasy servers are back up-”

“Hell, yes!” Emily crowed, sweeping hair back out of her face.

“-on a limited, local basis,” he continued, chuckling at her enthusiasm. “In other words, just the Sol system. And Garrus bets two hundred credits he can beat you in a death match.”

“Got it, and like shit he can,” Emily scoffed, but she was curious enough to follow up. “Real credits or game credits?”

Kaidan laughed. “He didn’t say. You’ll have to clarify before you beat him to a pulp.”

“I’ll do th- Wait, you talked to Garrus? And have good news?” She paused in the middle of calling up her omnitool. “Does that mean what I think it means?!”

“They may have picked up the Normandy on the long-range scanners,” he confirmed. “Maybe. They picked up a unique ship signature, but that’s as specific as they can get with the equipment running half-strength while the relays are being repaired.”

“Some hope is better than none,” Emily shrugged, fingers tapping against her knee. She thought of the conversation she still needed to have with Joker and grimaced briefly. I don’t care. We can have a dozen hard conversations, he can hate me for the rest of my damn life, as long as I know he and the others are alright, it’ll be okay.

Kaidan must have caught the brief grimace, because he sat next to her and reached for her hand. “You alright?” he asked, settling their palms together and linking his fingers between hers.

Emily smiled and squeezed his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

For the first time in ages she truly meant it.

----------------------------------------

Obviously there’s more to their story that I want to tell eventually. But I was under a deadline and this is over 17k, so I figured it was long enough. Fun fact: I got to write Emily’s birthday on my birthday. :DDD (yes, I’ve been sitting on this since June) Talk about good timing. Also, I’m really proud of this and it took a lot of work, so it’s gonna get self-reblogged a bunch. :P