Shepard’s got it all planned out. He’ll call it terrible lines for a touching reunion.
First, Kaidan will say, ‘You know, if you’d called ahead, we wouldn’t have lost the deposit on the memorial plaque with your name on it.’
So Shepard will say, ‘Hey, major… Why the melting face?’
Then, Kaidan will say, ‘You’re the biggest, stupidest jellyfish I’ve ever met.’
So Shepard will say, ‘At least, this time, I didn’t make you wait two years before I showed up again.’
‘I guess it could be worse,’ Kaidan will say.
‘How could this be worse?’ Shepard will ask.
‘…Well,’ Kaidan will say, ‘it could be Horizon.’
Then, Shepard will say, ‘I’ve gotta extragram your eyebrows right now, Kaidan. For the good of future generations.’
And Kaidan’s face’ll do the melty thing again. And then, he’ll probably hit something.
But that’s not how it happens. Shepard’s split knuckles and sticky fingers press Anderson’s name in place on the wall even though he can’t feel his elbows unbend, if his left thumb’s still there, or half of his right palm. He smells like he’s dead and the only reason he knows he isn’t is because he’s been there before—but he never felt this terrible then.
‘I’m gonna take a nap now,’ Shepard says.
‘I thought I lost you,’ Kaidan tells him, voice cracking on the last edge.
‘I thought you lost me, too,’ Shepard admits. ‘Well, you know what they say—third time’s the charm.’
Kaidan gets it right. Shepard knew he would. ‘You big, stupid jellyfish,’ Kaidan says.
Close enough to the script.
Shepard’s still grinning when they roll him into the med bay—and that’s before the morphine drip.
by: spicyshimmy
