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clericofshadows · 4 months ago

Text

zorya

Description: Regis and Zaeed go to Zorya to fulfill his last active contract.

Paring: Regis Shepard/Zaeed Massani/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Word Count: ~14K

AO3 LINK

In hindsight, Regis should’ve known from the beginning that this mission would not have gone well.

Zaeed took contracts for a reason, and he knew that sometimes, he could have a bit of a heart of gold alongside his desire for a heavy payout. Sure, Regis will gladly ensure that Eldfell-Ashland stays rich by clearing out the Blue Suns from one of their refineries. Why not? No harm in making sure Zaeed had all his debts and outstanding missions claimed.

The Blue Suns should’ve been enough of a warning in itself. Regis knew the story. Zaeed was the founder working with Vido. A good partnership, until it wasn’t. Shot in the face after refusing to entertain Batarian help and slave trading–working with goddamn terrorists, to quote the man–and here he is, still vying his time to get his due.

And now the Blue Suns are known as a Batarian merc company, the exact thing Zaeed wanted to avoid. The true history was long forgotten in the eyes of the galaxy.

He heard the story early on when he and Kaidan were still just two Alliance idiots taking a shore leave on Omega, getting themselves involved in the vorcha mafia all over 5000 credits and a bottle of fucking whiskey of all things. Regis will never let Kaidan play poker anywhere ever again, but it did bring them to Zaeed.

So, when the shuttle dropped them off on the pleasant surface of Zorya alongside Kasumi, Zaeed immediately tapped into their communications and started down the path.

Another warning. But then again, this was against the Blue Suns. Not the first time they had faced their gang. Not the first time Zaeed used his own tech knowledge and in-depth understanding of how the Suns operated, despite twenty years ous.

It sure as hell won’t be the last time either.

The next came in the form of a group of dead workers. “Vido’s style,” he had growled out, cursing the man’s name and shaking his head at the brutality.

No, this wasn’t just any contract.

That should’ve been his first sign. An immediate call to action to figure out what the hell was really going on. But he didn’t. He trusted Zaeed to tell him.

Vido’s voice on the comm was another warning. Of course, he didn’t recognize it. But Zee sure as shit did.

Regis should’ve stopped him then. Should’ve told Kasumi to scout ahead while he dragged him aside and asked about Vido, and asked about the true purpose beyond his little contract.

Another song and dance of trusting Zaeed to tell him. To give him all the facts. To let him in on something that was clearly so damn important to him.

He also held back when they entered the refinery and saw Vido and his little Blue Suns foot soldiers flanking him.

"Zaeed Massani. You finally tracked me down." Vido’s voice was easy, barely full of anything other than annoyance.

“Vido.” Zaeed growled out, full of chewed up gravel. Reaching for his Mattock immediately, Regis did the same with his Valkyrie, keeping a loose grip on it.

If Regis interfered, this could all go tits up. Zaeed had all the cards and refused to show his hand, and he was ready to talk to him about it later. So fucking ready to tear into him and ask him what the hell he was thinking not coming clean about this? Now Regis can’t do a damn thing and undermine Zaeed.

Not in front of Vido.

If it was anyone else, Regis would have already interfered. Did whatever the hell he thought was right in the moment. Sometimes that worked well.

But this was Zaeed. Not just anyone.

"Don't be stupid, Zaeed. I have a whole company of bloodthirsty bastards behind me, ready to kill or be killed on my command."

And that was the issue, wasn’t it? How Vido warped the Blue Suns into something nasty, into everything Zaeed wasn’t and hated. Blind soldiers ready to die. That's exactly what mercs aren’t.

A story Regis remembered amongst the haze of Astra smoke shared amongst Zaeed and Kaidan, lounging in bed after both of them had taken turns fucking Regis, telling them stories of past missions gone wrong.

“But the two of you are different. Actually give a shit as opposed to everyone else. You ain’t in it for the fucking money. You crazy bastards do it because it's the right goddamn thing to do.”

Regis kept an eye on both Zaeed and Vido, Kasumi hanging back behind them. Smart. Easy escape. The tension in the air was thick, like a steady, foggy haze.

Zaeed’s eyes and head flicked towards some piping system. What does Zaeed see that he doesn’t…

"Actually, take your shot. Give my men a reason to put you down like the mad dog you are. Again." Vido was full of taunting words, and the fucking dog comment almost had Regis opening his mouth and biting back. He's no fucking dog. But he kept his mouth shut, glancing back towards Zaeed with a hard look.

“Shepard…” Kasumi’s voice came up over the comm link, quiet and hushed. Private towards him, by the way Zaeed showed no sign of reacting. “What are we going to do?”

Behind him, he made a signal to hold position. As much as he hated it, this was no longer his mission. No longer his call to make.

A series of gunshots from Zaeed’s Mattock broke through the air as he rushed forward, seemingly firing blindly.

Regis reached for his gun then and there, rushing to cover, and was about to blast the mercs with a singularity…

"What was that? Gone nearsighted, old friend?" Another taunt, another snide remark from Vido.

Zaeed missed for a reason. He held his dark energy in his hand, watching, waiting–seeing gas escape from one of the pipes near Vido. And that was what he was aiming at. Take out as many as can… but why take that kind of reckless shot? Why not just nail Vido? Zaeed’s a better shot than him, and he’ll even admit it to the bastard’s face if he’s nice enough about it.

But revenge was just as much about sending a message as it was about doing the action.

"Burn, you son of a bitch." True hatred, true anger laced Zaeed's final remark to Vido as he shot at the weak spot on the pipe–again, not at fucking Vido–and an exposion wracked the entrance of the refinery, taking down some of the Suns. He couldn’t tell if Vido was one of them. Regis met Zaeed’s gaze, and the bastard gave him a fucking smirk. What the fucking hell?

"You just signed your death warrant, Massani!" Vido raised up with a little bit of a struggle. Hit, but not fully taken down.

It’s never that goddamn easy.

This time, Regis fired off a singularity towards the balcony as the remaining Suns started shooting at them, letting out a curse when Vido seemed to not get caught in the field.

He’s about to throw a Warp to detonate his singularity when he hears banging, watching in a mix of horror and frustration as Zaeed began to hit a central valve with the butt of his Mattock.

“Zee–what the fucking hell are you doing?” He growled out, almost cursing at himself at letting his nickname slip. Already charged with emotions, compromising himself, and they haven’t even been on this planet for long. Kasumi shook her head next to him, letting out a curse under her breath in a language he didn’t have a translator for.

An explosion started to travel up the pipes, before causing a chain reaction at the balcony and beyond, taking out more lowly mercs along the ones in his singularity, the biotic energy becoming unstable and bursting.

Never the target, right?

Never the asshole that compromised the mission.

For a moment, Regis didn’t know if he was thinking about Zaeed or Vido. He pushed that thought aside.

And the refinery was now up in flames. Anything to kill his fucking target, right?

Zaeed holstered his gun with a shrug. "Opening the gate."

He got up from his position behind cover, nodding at Kasumi, who met his gaze with a hard look. She wasn’t happy about this either. Why would she? Figured it would be a quick and easy in and out rescue. Right up her alley sabotaging security to fuck with the Suns.

Instead, it was all up in flames.

He stopped in front of Zaeed and crossed his arms against his chest. “Could you remind me what the point of this mission was? Freeing the workers here from the Suns? So why the hell are you blowing up this fucking building?”

Zaeed narrowed his eyes. “You saw Vido right fucking there. You don’t know the security in this building. You may be good–both of you–” He looks at Kasumi. “But I wasn’t going to take that fucking risk for him to get away.”

Regis closed his eyes briefly. 3. 2. 1. Calm. A breath. “You want Vido dead? We’ll kill the bastard, but he’s not the only person in this fucking building.”

“As far as I’m concerned, he’s the only person in this fucking building that matters.” Zaeed started to walk past, but Regis grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Zee.” He used his nickname, but his voice was sharp. Hard. “The mission was to liberate this refinery. That’s the pretense you gave me.”

“Killing Vido will liberate the goddamn refinery. We are wasting precious fucking time. You said that we all had a last request to fill. This is my request, and my goddamn mission.” Zaeed’s face was stony, the mismatched eyes often softened just for him were sharp as steel, his voice just as low as the threats he sent over to Vido.

A distant explosion shook the refinery. Regis narrowed his eyes but followed him anyway through the door, not the time to argue as much as he wanted to strangle him. Blue Suns bodies littered around the entrance further into the facility. Zaeed did some real damage.

In more ways than one. “We are saving the workers, right?” Kasumi’s voice was back over the comms, hushed and insistent.

He didn’t answer at first, because there were two turian Suns waiting for them on the other side. Regis fired off an overload to take care of any shields, while Kasumi and Zaeed finished them off with a few well placed gunshots.

He was going to reply to her, but he caught her gaze and nodded just enough. She nodded back but her worried expression didn’t quite leave.

He didn’t blame her. This was such a fucking shit show already.

And she knew damn well along with everyone else how close he and Zaeed are. Who is in bed with who.

The walk across the catwalk was tense. The facility was up in flames, becoming more and more unstable by the minute. If there truly were workers inside…

Regis has blood on his hands. It’s a fact that doesn’t bother him most days, but when Torfan’s anniversary rolls around the feeling becomes more intense. Never regretting the action he made, never seeing it as the wrong thing, and yet–the skull tattoo on the back of his neck burns. His biotic squad that died, along with many other Alliance.

Hell of a victory. Hell of a loss.

He wears the Butcher title proudly all the same. He understands sacrifice to win a victory, but this? Nothing about what Zaeed had done was right. And Regis wasn’t a fucking idiot. He knew Zaeed had methods that he disagreed with. Heard many stories that often left Zaeed on top, anyone that had worked with him dead, betrayed, or betraying him. But he thought Zaeed respected his moral code, respected his desire to protect civilians and innocents who had no place in this war between them.

Zaeed was about to enter the door, barely looking behind him when they heard someone call out. Regis stopped him with a grip on his arm that was quickly shoved off, but Zaeed stopped all the same, stepping out of the doorway and letting it automatically close behind him.

Maybe seeing his consequences for real will trigger something in him. Vido is just one fucking man…

Kasumi almost looked relieved to see someone call out for help, a worker in a standard jumpsuit.

"We can't get to the gas valves to shut them off! The whole place is going to blow!" He was pleading for help, desperate. And why wouldn’t he be? He shielded his face from a relatively nearby blast, further proving his point.

Regis was about to open his mouth to ask what they needed to do, but Zaeed damn near turned his back, heading back towards the door. He grabbed his arm again, and those eyes were once more filled with something hard as steel. Sharp as a knife, his glare could cut. Regis didn’t let the wound bleed for one damn minute. “There’s no goddamn time, Regis. Vido’s probably near the fucking docks by now.”

Is he fucking serious?

“Trust me, I know and want Vido dead along with you.” He kept his tone carefully still, as if he was reading off a report to Hackett, hiding the war slowly going on in his heart and mind. “But I want you to tell me to my goddamn face if he is really worth watching these innocents burn to death.”

For a brief moment, Regis genuinely thought he got through to Zaeed, the way he paused and turned his head to look back at the worker, who was making his way to the other side of the balcony. A war inside him as well.

“Don’t think I’m going to stick around and watch, and if we stop and help, Vido will–”

Regis now knew there was only one decision he could make as Commander. Not as Regis, not as Shepard even, but as the fucking Commander in charge of this mission.

Vido was not the reason why they were here today.

The real mission was never the refinery, but Regis’s mission was now the refinery.

Regis felt his corona rage underneath his skin, letting some of it flare out by flashing his eyes, pointing at Zaeed and pushing his finger into the chest of his Ajax gear. "We're here to free these people. We're going in. And if you want to chase after Vido, fucking go for it. Good luck doing it alone. I’m saving these workers since that is what you told me this mission was all about." He didn’t wait for an answer and followed the worker’s instructions, jumping over the catwalk to a different, lower part of the refinery. Kasumi quickly followed. “You did the right thing, Shepard. He’ll get over it.”

He glanced over at her and saw her concerned look. “I hope so. Or else his bed won’t be very warm.” Or mine.

She snickered, and it made him feel marginally better.

There was a grumble and Zaeed joined them a moment later. “If Vido gets away, I’m blaming you.”

Regis kept his back to him and didn’t acknowledge his comment. So what? The bastard knows how he feels about these kinds of choices.

And what would Kaidan do? Obviously… he would go after the workers…

Right? Two against one. Would he still be reacting the same way if it was the both of them?

“Fine, you bastard.” The venom was evident in Zaeed’s voice. Regis tried to not let it poison him. “We’d better get fucking to it, then.”

At least he conceded.

Why did he even think for one fleeting second that Zaeed was going to let Vido go? After all he’s heard, after all he’s learned… even knowing that Regis’s uncle, Vikram, healed his face, a connection that kept Zaeed close to Regis’s family…

But that’s just the thing? If this was T’Soni, you’d be doing everything in your power to get your revenge. Why is this any different?

If only Zaeed was honest from the start.

Why wasn’t he?

– –

Any kind of mission that involved fire created an extra layer of tension. Fire is unpredictable. Fire is deadly. Fire sees no sides.

With the conflict he was having with Zaeed, it heightened every feeling he had. Every moment of stress, every split-second decision he had to make. Every time he stopped and listened and helped clear a path for as many of the workers as possible.

He knew there was no way in hell that they’ll be able to get them all out. Some were likely already dead. All because of–

Zaeed? Vido? Him?

Regis pressed onward all the same.

They didn’t face much opposition at first. Mostly helping trapped workers get through by activating fire suppression systems, breathing a little easier with each activation.

Hearing the pleas for help that quickly turned into thanks kept him going. Kasumi was guiding them through, having managed to grab a schematic of the building off of one of the workers.

As they were walking through what looked to be a small storage area, she ran up to him and pointed to a spot on the map, pulled up on her omnitool. “We might still be able to catch him…” She trailed off, seemingly scanning his face. Zaeed was far ahead, not paying attention to them. And he hated it.

“Might. Hopefully.” He’s sure his face was betraying too much of what he was feeling. Anger. Frustration. Worry. Fucking love.

“Which is why I’m only telling you,” she said, with a pointed look at Zaeed’s back. “I don’t like this at all, Shepard. And not just because of what he was spitting in your face. Like you would’ve ever agreed to abandon ship for Vido.”

“We’ll deal with it after the mission,” Regis said, instead of replying to her directly. She was right. Zaeed knew what his usual code was.

But love changes things, doesn’t it?

There was so much love in his heart for Zaeed, for Kaidan. But this wasn’t a line he was willing to cross.

She only hums in response. “I’m sure it will pass no matter what happens. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and has your back. You're special.”

Before this mission, he would've readily agreed. Special now didn't mean shit when it meant Zaeed didn't come clean to him about what this mission was really about. Who was amongst the Suns they were trying to liberate the facility from.

He’s about to reply when Zaeed shouts there’s Suns up ahead, and it's back on the job, throwing out biotic support in the form of a shockwave so Zaeed can take them down more effectively.

Two shots clean to the heads of the stumbled mercs. Methodical. Clinical.

No different from usual. But without the usual banter between them.

He tried to not let it affect him.

It did anyway.

The floodgates were now open as the small back area was connected to some open room full of cargo and various machinery and mechanisms that Regis would ordinarily be a little intrigued by. Instead, it was a well placed battlefield, plenty of cover for them to advance against a large retinue of Suns.

“According to the plans, we're close to one of the landing and launching areas,” Kasumi said as they dived for cover, planting themselves behind a piece of sturdy machinery. Good on her for keeping an eye on things. Placating Zaeed with a reminder that they haven't forgotten what he wanted to do here.

Zaeed grunted. “Lots of fucking firepower in here. Still trying to stop us… The bastard must still be here.”

And Vido’s voice appears over the intercom of the refinery, confirming his suspicion. Taunting Zaeed. Reducing himself to petty insults. In Zaeed’s favor, he never reacted verbally. A pinched brow on his face, an annoyed twitch, a more forceful swing of his gun to bash in the brains of some unlucky bastard that decided to don the mark of a gang Zaeed once loved.

Vido was likely waiting for him, only to get away just before Zaeed could put a bullet in the head of the man that tried to do the same to him–but this time, Zaeed wasn't going to let there be any goddamn surviving or scars for someone to trace in bed.

A new sense of urgency heightened their actions, now free from rescuing the workers and able to commit to Zaeed’s plan.

Too little, too late, Regis figured in the end. Not going to mean shit if he still got away.

Engineers and biotics and all sorts of heavy hitters were left for them to deal with, burning through overloads and sabotages and everything they had.

He felt his amp hot underneath his skin as he tossed what felt like the hundredth singularity of the mission. Normally, Zaeed would be checking in on him, brushing a gloved hand over the back of his neck, hissing out a “Goddamn idiot” when he felt an unnatural heat before telling him fondly to reduce the light show.

He rubbed his neck and watched as Zaeed shot down the floating mercs without a glance behind him to make sure his biotic wasn’t overloading himself

None of this was fucking normal. Why assume he would go back to how things were before Regis told EDI to plot a course to Zorya.

Still, the mission wasn't over yet. But does that mean their normal will return?

He gritted his teeth when he heard Zaeed call out that they had a heavy YMIR mech on deployment.

He rushed forward to meet him behind cover, sniping another two mercs, leaving the mech the only thing left to deal with. Kasumi fired off a nasty program of hers to stun the bastard, before Zaeed threw out the last of his custom made inferno grenades, taking the mech down in a mess of melted electronics and plating before its core overheated.

He figured he would've saved those for Vido.

Did he use them for us?

Regis surveyed the area with his visor. No more hits. “Way’s clear. Kasumi, were those doors the way out?” He pointed to a set of doors across a bridge.

She reappeared next to him, her cloak fizzling out. “Sure are.”

“Then what the fucking hell are we waiting for?” Zaeed walked up next to him, adjusting the grip on his Mattock before stomping towards the door.

Regis wasn’t sure if he wanted Vido to be on the other side or not.

But of course, as they walked out into the humid air of Zorya, marred with smoke, a gunship was partially in the air, hovering over the ground. A hatch was closing with a flash of blue armor. Could be any Suns. Yet he found himself sprinting towards it with Zaeed and Kasumi at his heels.

"Not this time, Zaeed, you son of a bitch! See you in another twenty years!" Vido’s voice appeared over the speakers of the ship as it began to fly off, the blast of the jets causing Regis to stumble slightly. Kasumi stopped to help him up, giving her a soft thanks in reply.

Zaeed didn’t seem affected at all, fueled by rage and years of revenge, sprinting forward and firing blind shots with his Mattock at the retreating ship, yelling in a guttural, broken cry of defeat.

The clicks of an empty, expelled heat sink were deafening.

Regis stepped forward and watched the retreating gunship, raising his hand to try and contact EDI, but Kasumi shook her head next to him. “It’s too late.”

She was right. But he wanted to try anyway.

For Zaeed’s sake, not his.

“Walk ahead and get the shuttle ready.” He ordered quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She started to protest. “I'm not going to–”

He interrupted her sharply. “Go, Kasumi. That’s an order. I'll handle him.”

She nodded and started heading up towards a clearing beyond the landing area.

Distantly, he heard the sound of a heat sink ejecting and hitting the ground and the sound of another one being loaded.

Time seemed to slow a moment later as Zaeed whirled around, gun still in his hand, and pointed it at him. Instinctively, Regis grabbed his Eagle from his belt, pointing it at him just as fast, seeing the gun first and not the man he loved behind it.

"You just cost me twenty years of my life!" Zaeed spat at him, not cowing down one bit. No, he wasn’t Zaeed anymore. This was Massani, the veteran merc. Massani, the lone wolf who always survives when no one else doesn’t.

Massani, the bastard that tackled him and pinned him to a wall in a dingy Omega alleyway when he and Kaidan were trying to escape from the fucking vorcha mafia.

No, he's still Zaeed. Don't let the man here now take away the man you love.

Regis felt his biotics roar underneath his skin, desperate to be unleashed, spurred on by the sheer rage he was feeling. Never did he expect Zaeed to point a gun at him.

Never did Regis expect himself to do the same in turn. His voice was cold, cruel, barking back at him with the same lack of regard for who they are to each other. "You've never stepped out of your old fucking ways, huh? Keeping all the details of the mission close to your chest so you can come out on top? See me as just another fucking merc that you can throw away for the best price on the target? Yeah, I remember your stories. You've never changed! If those twenty years meant something, then maybe you should've let me in.”

He narrowed his eyes and frowned, daring him to say something. But then he sniffed the air… was that gasoline?

Zaeed opened his mouth to argue, his face curved into a snarl, when a bright light caught his eye behind Zaeed. Shit, a fire.

An explosion appeared behind Zaeed, a loud blast in the air that propelled debris up in the air, barreling straight towards them.

Regis flared out, reaching out with dark energy to the steel beam and barely managing to fling it out of their path, the blast of energy causing Zaeed to stumble to the ground in a mess of smoke and violet biotics.

He cried out in surprise, slowly rising up from the ground. Regis stalked towards him and holstered his gun. “No words for how I saved your fucking life?”

Zaeed stared up at him, eyes narrowing. Mismatched eyes he loves to get lost in now clouded with anger. Rage…

He ignored what else was lurking underneath.

Regis scoffed, stopping right in front of him. “Right. I took away twenty goddamn years of it.”

He turned his back to Zaeed. “If you still give a fuck about the only mission that matters, Kasumi is hailing the shuttle. But you can sit here and lie in your decision if you want. Your goddamn call. Your goddamn last request, right?”

Walking away was easier than it should've been.

He wanted every word to hurt.

– –

He knew Zaeed would eventually make his way back to the indicated landing area.

It was a long flight. Silence between the three of them. Even Samson, their shuttle pilot, didn't say anything.

The tension in the air was evident.

Please, just say something.

He wasn't sure if was wanting Zaeed to say something or for him to get the bastard to explain himself.

The moment Samson touched down in the bay and announced they were clear for departure, they poured out of the shuttle as fast as they could. Zaeed didn't even look at him as he headed for the elevator.

Regis let him go and hung back with Kasumi. “Are you…” she trailed off, not quite meeting his gaze.

“No, I'm not.” He answered honestly. “But he made his fucking bed and he has to lie in it.”

“I'm not disagreeing with you. Shepard, you did the right thing. Without a doubt.” They stop and watch as the elevator doors close behind them. “This is his mess.”

“But?” He crossed his arms and gave her an expectant look.

She took her hood off and pulled out her hair, letting it fall down on her shoulders. “But you two are a good thing on this ship. Even if you both bite back against the gossip… Is one mission really going to tear you both apart?”

Regis frowned and this time, he didn't meet her gaze. “That's his decision to make, not mine.”

She hummed. “I'm here if you need me. Guess you're going to call your other beau?”

“He wasn't here. I'm not getting him involved.”

“He will, though.”

Regis did think about calling Kaidan. He also thought about calling some mutual friends. Or rather, a mutual friend. He can imagine Dove and how she would be chewing Zaeed out right then and there if she had the chance. Small mercies for friends like Sophie. Even if Zaeed's nickname for her tends to stick in his head half the time. And he can hear her yelling at him for that too.

He let out a sigh and trawled over to a nearby workbench to start loosening his gear. This should be done with Zaeed. “I'll call him later. I need to cool down.”

She rejoined him and started helping with his outer armor plating. “Don't argue. You're exhausted, aren't you? Don't usually see you go that hard with biotics.”

Normally, he would protest. He didn't this time, which was telling in a way he didn't want it to be. “Thanks. And yes, I am. Going to head up to Chakwas to get a basic scan.”

“Good. This probably also isn't a mission that should be in our books…” she said quietly, working through his armor with a surprising ease. It must've shown on his face, because she laughed. “I've nabbed your schematics for your armor. And watched you and Zaeed take it down. Don't act so surprised. You know me by now, right?”

He couldn't exactly argue with that. “It won't be. I can assure you that.”

“Throwing around your power. I like it.”

He let out a chuckle in response.

With her help, it was easy enough to get his armor off and stored back its container to be carried back into his room for later, leaving him with his guns to also be put back in his personal armory. He gave her another nod of thanks, and he headed towards the elevator.

His first destination was the armory, and thankfully, once he entered, Taylor was the only one inside. To his credit, he didn't ask him how the mission went and helped him check over his guns with a trained eye. “Balance is off on your Black Widow,” he commented.

“It's always off. Don't have the magic touch to fix it,” Regis replied, keying in his code to his locker and storing his Eagle and Valkyrie.

“Want me to take a look?”

He shook his head. “Only person I trust with a Widow is pissed off at me.”

“He flew in here and dropped off his extra heat sinks before disappearing without a word…” Taylor leaned against his workbench, leaving an opportunity for discussion open if he wants to take it.

Regis sighed and pinched his temples. “Mission went well for the parameters I was given. It did not go well for what it was really about for him.”

Taylor nodded. “I see. At least there's some downtime for him to cool off.”

A muttered comment in response was on the tip of his tongue. But he holds it and only nods before heading out to his next destination.

The elevator was empty for this trip as well. But these typical motions were almost always done with Zaeed, either together or with him waiting for Regis to return. It felt wrong without him.

The medbay was never a welcoming place, even more so with the specter of Cerberus hanging over them. Chakwas made it better, standing up and motioning for him to sit down on one of the beds. “Shepard, let me get a good look at you. Tell me, what's going on?”

“Amp that's a little overheated. A few cuts and scrapes and bruises. The usual,” he said, closing his eyes as she started to scan him.

“Yes, yes, I can see all that.” She was expecting him to continue. Regis didn't fall for it.

“That's all you're getting.”

She pursed her lips. “Your amp is fine, but take it easy on the biotics for the next day or two. Medigel will seal those little cuts on your face, and I'll send you out with some salve for the bruising. Blood pressure is elevated but not worryingly so.” she said methodically, shutting off her omnitool and crossing her arms against her chest, giving him a concerned look. “Regis, I know you and Massani are close.”

He got up from the bed. “Yes, everyone does. I'm fine, thanks for checking in.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“Call me if you want to share a cup of warm tea or cocoa.” Her look was sharp, but her smile was soft. “Someone needs to take care of you.”

Was it his imagination or did he hear an unspoken “Because he's not” in her voice? Or perhaps another reminder that Kaidan isn't here either to keep both of them in check.

She winked at him and grabbed a tub of salve from a cabinet. “Get some rest. Doctor’s orders.”

Now that was easily something he wasn't going to argue against. “I will. And also, my ship, my rules.” He stretched a little and took the salve off her hands. “Thanks.”

“It is never any trouble. Take care.”

Leaving the medbay knowing his amp was fine was a bit of a relief, but that left his final destination.

The cabin.

The elevator ride to it felt like something final in his heart. He’s probably down there in his corner of the ship in starboard cargo… wallowing in the anger or frustration or whatever the fuck he was feeling that pushed him away.

While he is up here alone.

He peels himself out of his undersuit and leaves it in a heap to be dealt with later. The next steps he takes are methodical. Step in the shower. Alone. Turn up the heat close to scalding. Alone. Wash his hair and body meticulously. All fucking alone.

It stung more than it should’ve. Getting used to having a partner with him, both on here and the damn SR-1 with Kaidan, made things easier on ships and missions like these. A privilege few can even claim to have.

But he reached for Zaeed’s body wash anyway, a smoky, spicy scented kind of thing that had quite the price tag. Regis always joked with him that he only got it because it drained Cerberus’s funds. And he never denied it.

Routine was all that mattered. Drying off. Working through all his next steps. Hair, skin, beard, and wound care…

And he was still alone.

As he walked out of the bathroom, he tossed his towel in the hamper to be dealt with later and walked over to his drawers to pull out a tank top and a pair of cotton joggers. He had no plans to leave his cabin until the next morning.

And thankfully, he had some ready-made soup to heat up in his mini fridge from the day before so he didn’t have to go back down. Enough calories to help him replenish his stores along with some protein bars.

It was also cold in the room, and normally instead of asking EDI to adjust the temperature, he would snuggle up against Zaeed on the couch or in the bed, going over reports and dealing with the tasks that befitted the commander and his unofficial XO. But it wasn’t a normal evening after a mission and by now, it was obvious he was spending it alone for the first time in a long white.

“EDI, adjust the temperature in my cabin by a couple of degrees, it’s too damn cold in here,” he said, looking around for his N7 hoodie. Instead of his hoodie lying on the desk chair where it was before the mission–that damn mission–it was one of Zaeed’s, large, worn, and smelling of gun oil, smoke, and citrus.

Regis's preferred body wash. Sweet, sharp, citrus.

“Belay that request,” he said a moment later, and EDI affirmed it, leaving the temperature as is. He grabbed the hoodie from the chair and inhaled deeply, wishing that it was the man it belonged to instead of a cold piece of fabric.

The nightmares will most definitely return tonight. Another thing Zaeed chased away. No dreams about dying in space or Kaidan or Zaeed in his place. No distorted memories of Torfan.

He tossed the hoodie on the bed and let out a frustrated shout. Full of anger and all of his vulnerabilities. Cursing and screaming the names of Cerberus, of T’Soni, of Zaeed even.

None of this was fucking fair. He can’t do this alone. He can’t. Zaeed is his only–

The beep of the microwave pulled him out of his fit. He took a few heaving, deep breaths before walking over to grab his food and force himself to choke it down.

He ignored the wetness on his face. The pressure in his sinuses.

No, this will not break him. It’s one fucking disagreement. He’s had plenty.

Tossing the empty bowl in the trash didn’t feel like a victory, even if it did make him feel marginally better after eating something. Nor did washing his face and pretending he wasn’t upset about what happened. About how much this was impacting him in every way.

So, he sat down at his desk and called Kaidan.

The vid call connected only a few minutes later.

Kaidan’s face appeared on the small screen of his display, unshaved with a longer beard that wasn’t just stubble. His expression was pinched, and his arms were crossed against his chest, wrinkling his T-shirt that advertised Rio and the Villa.

Zaeed’s definitely talked to him.

“I’m not getting involved,” Kaidan said flatly. “I wouldn’t even hear Zee out. No matter what he tried to grumble at me. So I’m not listening to you either. Work it out on your own.”

Regis blinked, feeling a little blindsided.

Kaidan sighed and touched his hand to the screen. Regis put his hand over his, the mockery of closeness the only thing they had. “All I know is that a mission that was meant for him didn’t go the way he wanted. I wasn’t there. I’m not going to pass judgment. He’ll cool off.”

He couldn’t help but snort. “I was thinking that, but our third wheel on the mission made a point that he was going to call you no matter what.”

Kaidan looked a little surprised at that. He's let him know that some people on the ship knew about him--and anyone on Horizon definitely knew. “Oh really? Well, I love you both. And I told him basically the same thing. You can overcome whatever this is–and tell me all the details later.”

“Did he happen to tell you what his request was about?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Kaidan leaned back in his chair, removing his hand from the screen. “A hit on the Blue Suns from Eldfell. No more details than that. And was cursing about ‘Goddamn Vido and bastards like Regis’ so I put two and two together.” He made a very inaccurate impression of Zaeed that almost made him smile. Almost.

“He did, huh.”

“Close to home, then.”

“More than a little. But I made a choice that–”

Kaidan interrupted him with a sharp whistle. “No, I’m not going to hear anything else. You made a choice he didn’t like. Okay. He may not have been up front with all the details. Alright. Seems like you both have a good foundation to talk shit out on, right?”

“You make it sound so fucking easy,” Regis shot back, wincing at how sharp he sounded a moment later.

Kaidan waved him off. “I’ll ignore that. Do you need me to stay on the line for a while? Talk to you about everything and nothing?” A ritual Kaidan would offer when they were apart. When nights seemed to be sleepless for Regis from insomnia taking over. Either from his damn L2 implant or memories from Torfan leaking in. These days, he can add in trauma from remembering exactly how he died, how every last breath felt until there was no more.

“It wouldn’t be fair to him if he wanted the same out of you.” It took a lot out of him to say that, knowing what was waiting for him when he closed his eyes. It was the truth. Regis valued fairness. Even if Zaeed may not do the same–he would and you know it–it wouldn’t be right otherwise.

“I could mute you on the other line. Same for him. Neither one of you would ever know.”

Regis shook his head with a fond smile. “I love you. Talk to you later.”

“Sleep well, love. If he calls back I’ll let him know we talked, just as I told him I was going to spill the beans to you. I love you too.” Kaidan smiled softly.

He returned his smile knowing it wasn’t reaching his eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything different. Be safe.”

“I should be saying that to you, love. Talk to you later.” Kaidan ended the call.

He should get some more work done.

– –

Regis did not get much work done, beyond a few basic reports, some cleaning up of data, and some new bundles of data to send over to the Alliance later. Hours did pass, however, and it was nearing his typical bedtime.

All in all, a wasted evening. Not like he would’ve got much done if that mission had gone well.

He got up from his desk and finished getting ready for bed. Brushing his teeth, dimming the lights, and letting EDI know to send anything directed to him to his inbox.

The hoodie he threw on the bed stared at him. A grey and yellow fleece thing with a snake on the front. A cozy hoodie.

He reached out for it and squeezed it tightly before curling up underneath the covers, cuddling the damn thing.

It was too damn quiet. Zaeed was restless, often taking a while to settle in the covers and getting Regis just right in his arms. And he snored.

It was too damn cold. Even if he did bump the temperature up, it wouldn’t match the feeling of Zaeed’s body next to him, warming him up.

He stared up at the ceiling, at the tarp they put up together to hide the skylight.

Cerberus didn’t even have the fucking decency to give him a proper way to close the skylight.

No, sleep would not come easy for him tonight.

Hours of tossing and turning led to a restless sleep, before being assaulted with the feeling of air leaving his chest, unable to gasp and take another breath, Kaidan and Zaeed in his comms–a sound of plastic crackling woke him up with a shout.

One of the corners of the tarp had fallen, revealing the dark expanse of space.

“I sensed increased distress from you, Shepard. Do you need me to contact Doctor Chakwas?” EDI’s voice broke through the silence of the cabin. He willed himself to calm down, feeling his heart racing, taking deep breaths.

“No.” He hated how rough and wrecked he sounded. “Just a nightmare.”

“Understood, Shepard.”

He wasn’t going to get any sleep as long as he could see outside. As long as he knew it was visible. And so, with a throw wrapped around him, he made his way over to the couch and started back on his work.

The hoodie stayed on the bed.

– –

When his alarm went off, he groggily let out a yawn and realized that yes, he did fall asleep on the couch, and yes, his neck and back were crying out in pain. Lovely. Another thing to add onto the pile of bullshit he was dealing with today.

He trudged over to the bathroom and winced at his reflection. His scars and cybernetics almost seemed to be harsher. Dark circles underneath his eyes made the glow appear brighter.

Washing his face didn’t make him look any better. Nor did brewing himself a quick cup of tea to try and make him feel more awake. Not even styling his hair and ensuring his piercings were perfect helped.

Only when he put on his N7 officer uniform–black high necked jacket with red detailing, sturdy black boots, straight pants, black and red gloves–did he at least start looking like Commander Shepard. Sure as shit didn’t feel like him.

Before leaving… he walked over to the side table next to the bed–currently covered with a deconstructed Talon project Zaeed was working on–and pulled out the bottom drawer he put a false bottom in. Underneath was a small package he had picked up at the Citadel a few trips ago. Inside was a grey and yellow striped scarf. Just like the red and black one he wears. Just like the blue and grey one he gave Kaidan years ago…

Never could decide when he wanted to give it to Zaeed. Nothing felt right…

He got up and set the package on his desk and closed his eyes. Would he even still want it now?

It was time to return to being the Commander.

He decided to do some rounds around the ship, and despite how disastrous the mission on Zorya went, he wanted to reaffirm to the remaining ground crew that they all had an opportunity to tie whatever they needed up.

He already helped Kasumi. Went on a heist, flirted with a rich criminal and felt skeevy about it, until after the mission when Zaeed laughed his ass off after hearing the story from Kasumi… and helped her move on by destroying that grey box.

Krios was reunited with his son at the very least, but Regis felt himself having to hold back a lot of judgment. At least Koylat has a father. Never had the privilege to know Atlas Shepard.

Vakarian… the less he thought about it the better. He wasn’t keen on supporting his plan to assassinate someone on the fucking Citadel, even if the turian did lead to Vakarian’s team’s death. Mostly, Regis had little sympathy for the situation. If he never ran off to Omega, none of that bullshit would’ve happened. He believed Omega was worse off after his stint as Archangel, as gang activity rose up as a result.

Ultimately, Vakarian didn’t listen to him and took the shot on Sidonis.

Regis couldn’t trust him out in the field anymore. Did he ever?

Zaeed listened to his decision to go after the workers, isn’t that something?

He grit his teeth and stopped inside the medbay. As usual, Chakwas had a few muffins ready for him. Today, they were chocolate chip. It wasn’t lost on him that she set out the usual portion for him and Zaeed. He scooped the paper bag up after looking inside.

“I presume you two haven’t talked yet?” She asked behind a cup of steaming hot tea.

“That obvious?”

“I know when you haven’t gotten a wink of sleep.”

He let out a sigh. “I’ve slept better.”

“I wouldn’t normally advise it, but let me know if you need a stim.” From anyone else, he would’ve fought back against that caring tone. From Chakwas? He almost appreciated it.

He shook his head. “Today isn’t meant to be a busy one. Using the downtime to check in on everyone and the ship. As usual.”

“Take it easy out there today. And Regis? This too will pass. I think he just needed time to cool off,” she offered.

“Kaidan more or less said the same thing,” he admitted with a wry grin. “But he has to come to me.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from Alenko–or you, in fact,” she chuckled. “He’s been good for you.”

Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks for the muffins.”

“It keeps you coming in here.” She winked, and he let out a laugh.

“You think I don’t know your tricks?”

Chakwas merely took a sip of her tea, and he took his leave. At the beginning, he was angry that she decided to join Cerberus for him. Now he sees it as the boon it was.

Doesn’t mean it won’t stop bothering him that he instills that kind of loyalty in others.

He didn’t have any real plans in mind today. Usual check-ins… before going back to his cabin and doing whatever paperwork or reports were necessary. Unlike the SR-1, he never found a good groove. Fucking terrorist organizations. No actual organization that makes any sort of sense, and he didn’t give a shit about most of the crew on board the ship to ever enjoy doing his rounds.

They chose Cerberus. They were dead to him before it began.

But isn't it different for some? Like Miranda… you are slowly considering her a close confidant ever since you learned who sold your body to Cerberus.

He frowned at himself and found himself in front of her office and quarters anyway. He often makes a point to gain her perspective on the ship and what’s going on. And as much as he hates to admit it, he does consider her a friend. Brilliant mind, good with biotics… hell, they were similar in a lot of ways. But unlike her, he had some choices to make in his life. She had a father who only gave a shit about a legacy.

Sometimes it felt like all Hannah cared about was a good legacy. At least, after Torfan.

He knocks on her door and watches as the yellow lock turns to green and the door auto opens for him.

She nods at him as he walks in and the door shuts behind him. Like him, she was wearing a black and yellow high necked jacket–a design stolen from the Alliance like most Cerberus bullshit–and her hair was pulled up into a bun. “Good morning, Shepard,” she greeted, turning off her screen. “Or is it a good morning?” There was something good natured in her tone.

He shrugged. “Time will tell.”

“For what it is worth, I do believe you did the right thing.”

“It’s up to him to decide if he sees it the same way, not me or anyone else.”

She hummed. “There isn’t much for me to report to you… I did notice an uptick in the outputs of the core, but I attributed that to Jack and Massani sparring in the cargo bay.”

He blinked. He hadn’t realized that was going on. Jack had become quite close to Zaeed, ever since he offered his spot on the ship as a space for her beyond her spot in the underbelly of engineering. Considering Zaeed mostly spends time in his cabin these days… Sparring between them wasn’t out of the ordinary, but he can’t help but wonder if there was something more to this one. Normally, he’d watch. Not today. “Nothing to worry about, then.”

“Catch you off guard, did I?”

“I haven’t bothered looking at the engineering logs this morning.” He crossed his arms against his chest. “I hope she kicks his ass.”

Miranda merely raised an eyebrow. “So you two really haven’t talked.”

“Thought you weren’t much of one for gossip.”

“I’m not, but I do like it when the ship runs smoothly. You and him not seeing eye to eye has already caused a disruption.” She mirrored his pose. “I care about the crew in my own way.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Speaking of, have you thought about my offer?”

She nodded. “I’m still waiting for a contact of mine to get back to me, but I’ll let you know the moment they do. It’s sensitive.” A slight pinch of her brow betrayed how she was really feeling. Worried, perhaps? Maybe the contact was later than they should be?

This wasn’t the time to pry. “Just let me know.” He remembers the bag and takes out an individually wrapped muffin and tosses it to her. “Have a muffin.”

She catches it with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m guessing I’m not the normal recipient of the treat?”

He merely smiled and winked. “It’s not proper to question a gift.”

“Especially not from you.” She opened the wrapper. “Thank you, but–”

“He’s a grown man. If he wants a muffin, he can go to Chakwas himself.”

“I remember being on your bad side not too long ago,” she mused. “Knowing how you are with people you like… I’d hate to go back to how things were.”

A smirk tugged on his lips. “You’re saying you would beg for forgiveness?”

She let out a chuckle, covering her mouth with a gloved hand. “Me? Begging? Never. I can see him doing it, though, to get back in that cabin of yours.”

Regis couldn’t help but be unable to share in her enthusiasm. It’s the exhaustion, the tiredness from not sleeping with Zaeed keeping the damn nightmares away. It’s knowing that the skylight is visible and he couldn’t bare to fix it on his own, despite how fucking unreasonable that was. It’s remembering what the cabin meant to him before he recruited any soul on board this ship that wasn’t pure Cerberus. A prison with a taunting photo of Kaidan. And a dumbass fishtank that, once more, was removed all because of fucking Zaeed Massani and his admittedly great ideas. “It’s just a place to sleep.”

She tilted her head to the side and stood up, leaning against the side of her desk. “You can’t fool me that easily, Shepard.”

Should he come clean?

“Perhaps it would be a better place to sleep and find peace if there wasn’t a goddamn skylight.” His tone was flat, bored, daring her to say something.

To her credit, she didn’t flinch back. Something softened, though, along with a widening of her eyes that went away as fast as it arrived. She didn’t know that he remembered, did she? She cleared her throat. “Shepard, I only theorized how much you would remember. Most of us assumed very little, and I, naively, hoped the same.”

He nodded sharply. “Nearly to the last breath.”

A sharp inhale. Her hands grip the edge of the desk tightly. “I had no say in the construction of the ship. I know they put in a lot of windows and viewports…” she trailed off. “I'm sorry.” She met his gaze.

He could tell it was sincere. “Thank you. You know, one of the first things we did was figure out a way to cover up that damn thing. Doesn’t have a shutter like some other parts of the ship… tarp works well enough.”

“Well enough isn’t perfect.” She almost sounded bitter at the end. “I know you barely even allowed engineering to strip out that fishtank, much less for how long it will take to deal with that skylight…”

“I appreciate the concern, but I can deal with it until the collectors are a pile of corpses behind me. He helps.”

Miranda moved to sit back at her desk, almost looking like she wanted to say something. She cleared her throat instead and changed the subject. “And I appreciate the trust you’ve given me. This will remain between us, but do let me know if you wish to change the status of the skylight.” Not what he was expecting her to say. There seemed to be another comment about Zaeed on the tip of her tongue.

She’s observant. She can tell how much this short fucking distance is effecting him.

He nodded. “You know what will happen if this information gets out.” The threat wasn’t as strong as it may have been when he first became a prisoner under the unflinching hexagons.

“I know you quite well, yes. Take care, Shepard. And thanks again for the muffin.” She held it up. “You and him do make a good team. I hope this isn’t more than a temporary issue.”

“You and me both,” he said quietly, but he knew she heard it as he walked away. He took a deep breath once back outside. What the hell should he do now?

Talking to Samara always helped ground him, somewhat. There was something to be said about finding comfort in another biotic. Ever since he had let slip that he knew the asari language thanks to his matriarch uncle, a connection beyond the line of duty and the oath she swore formed between them. She was a close confidant, and these days, ever since her recruitment, she was slowly teaching him how to Reave.

Especially when she heard that Kaidan, a human, was able to do it.

Regis was making progress, but it will still take some time to get to Kaidan’s level.

And how beautiful those Reaves were on Horizon…

The door to her observation deck was open, like usual during the day. Samara wasn’t about to shut out part of the ship just for her usage.

She wanted for little.

“Shepard,” she greeted, sitting cross-legged on a mat in front of the large windows. An omnitool popped up on her arm and she flicked her wrist.

The shutters began to close.

It should bother him that she already knows his fear.

“Samara,” he greeted in turn, walking over as she moved over on her mat, giving him room to sit next to her. He mirrored her pose.

“You seem troubled this morning. Care to meditate?” she asked, her tone betraying no judgment.

He stared at the closed shutters. “Don’t know if I can get into that mindset.”

“We don’t have to. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” She turned to face him.

He met her gaze. “Surely you’ve heard–”

“Word travels fast on this ship. Does not mean it has the full truth attached to it.” Was that a smile tugging on her lips after she interrupted him?

Perhaps it wasn’t a matter of what she’s heard but from who.

Would he have talked to her knowing about her code? Probably not. But she and Zaeed have made quite the interesting duo on missions.

Quite the powerhouse, the three of them.

He pressed his lips together before letting out a snort. “That’s quite a way to define gossip.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Am I wrong, Shepard?”

Now he was smiling. “No.” He let out a sigh. “Not sure if I want to recount it, and that’s the thing. I’ve been through worse.” Torfan. Eden Prime. Battle of the Citadel. “Through hell and back.” In more definitions of the word than just one. “Why is this troubling me so goddamn much?”

Her gaze returned back towards the shuttered windows. “I could tell there was a bond between you two the moment we met on Illium. A bond not just forged from battle. A bond forged from survival. A bond forged from love. Yes, Lawson complimented you both quite well. But you both fight as if you were once one.”

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him.

“And I understand that you are not just a duo.” Her biotics flashed around her. With her field, strong, sharp, yet feeling like a soft feather next to him, he activated his own biotics, a violet barrier against her light blue. “A triad. Something quite uncommon, from what I understand about your people. Forged in the heat of battle. Made stronger from a stress that no one should have to endure.”

He felt one of his hands clench into a fist, his nails digging into his skin.

“I don’t foresee your bond being snapped by one mission. I know this isn’t a choice you can make alone. And if I was with you instead of Miss Goto… I would have supported your choice.”

Something was lurking underneath her tone.

“And if this was your target?” He can’t help but ask, blurting the question out. Her code fascinated him… but also made him wonder.

“There were innocents, but–” Her gaze lands back on him. “I would not have been as reckless as he was. But that isn’t the issue here, is it? It began before the mission.”

Another sigh escaped him, and this time, he looked away from her gaze. “We–I thought we told each other everything. Naively.” He spat. “But he sure as shit isn’t Kaidan. A bond forged from mutual survival… that applies to us all. And I don’t want him to be Kaidan…” He shook his head. “But I heard his story about Vido. More than once. Traced that scar with my fingers and my lips–” He cleared his throat. She didn’t budge at his slipped comment. “He knows my own story. My fears. What I intend to do once the Collectors are no more. Who I’m also waiting to enact my revenge on.” Destroy Cerberus. Destroy T’Soni.

“If he had told you?” She asked softly. Quietly. Barely breaking the silence.

Would it have changed anything?

“It would have changed everything. I’ve been blindsided on missions before. Intel drops the ball. Something changes at the last minute. Nothing is ever perfect.”

“I understand that quite well.”

He acknowledged her with a nod. “It was one thing to hear Vido’s voice on the comms. Another to face him directly and not feel like I could destroy him and his mercs with a well placed singularity.”

And another to save his life from his own mistakes. Not the first time in his life he’s had to save a man he loves. Kaidan on Virmire. Zaeed on Zorya. Both his loves were so close to being lost by fire… and he was the catalyst.

He couldn’t say that aloud just yet. Maybe never.

“Undermining him would’ve made things worse.” An observation, a comment. One that wasn’t wrong.

“That’s the conclusion I drew.” He took a deep breath. In and out. His field fizzled slightly, heighted from emotions, from memory tinged with anger. “Sorry.”

She flicked her wrist, as if she was waving him off. “Your biotics are often like a cloudy, overcast day. Calm, quiet, yet a volatile system that could strike and turn into a storm at any moment. Do not apologize for power. I did not feel that storm directed towards me.”

An interesting description. Kaidan’s own description wasn’t far off. A sea calm after a storm, but waves are still waiting in the distance to strike hard at land. A velvet cocoon. Soft, safe.

Until it rips apart.

“All this makes it obvious how much this is unsettling me,” he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m afraid that was clear the moment you stepped inside.” Another smile at her lips. “My apologies.”

Her comment startled a laugh out of him. “That’s the nicest way someone’s ever told me I look like shit.”

“It brought you a moment of peace, did it not?”

She definitely was one of the better parts of this goddamn mission. “It did. Thank you. Yeah, you got what was bothering me. Hell, I already knew that I was pissed that he didn’t just tell me what his request was really about. Just… I have my own regrets too.”

“Saying things in anger doesn’t mean you think and assign meaning to them when the moment is calm.”

A lightbulb went off in his head. He never said anything about the end. And maybe she could infer that all on her own. Knowing that he would be bothered by something more than just a mission gone wrong. She’s seen him. She knows the way he can lash out with words sharper than a knife. “So you have talked to him?”

“It was late. He was restless. I invited him in for tea and meditation.”

The image that conjured up made him snort. Sure, Zaeed drinks tea with him, but he’s also seen him pour out some cups in the bathroom when he thinks Regis isn’t looking. And meditation wasn’t exactly the type of quiet time he enjoyed with him.

“Did you now?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I did not allow him to say a word about his request until he finished a cup of tea and sat quietly for ten minutes. I happened to choose an asari blend you enjoy. Vi’la leaves?”

He nodded, recovering a little after blinking a few times at her statement. “My uncle introduced it to me. Similar to earth green tea, but sweeter. Didn’t realize you had any on hand. It’s a bitch to get outside of asari space.”

“You are welcome to partake in my stash. He did not realize I gave it to him unintentionally, but he’s more observant than most. In the end, he did confide in me.”

“He did, huh.” More bitterness leeched in.

“There is one thing I will leave with you. When you’ve been alone and on your own for so long, it’s difficult to accept the open arms of others. Consolidating past memories with current opportunities does not come easy. Falling back in old habits feels safe. Accepting a new reality is not.” Her biotics ceased and she stood up. “It is time for me to fix myself a meal.” She offered a hand to him.

He took it and let his own barrier dissipate. “You have given me a lot to think about.”

“I always enjoy our chats. And Shepard? I am nearing completion of the details of my own request. I appreciate what you are doing for the crew.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do. Thanks for everything.” He followed her out of her room and stopped at the elevator, watching as she headed towards the small kitchen.

He called for the elevator.

It’s not about you. It’s never been about you, has it? It’s always been about Vido, and what that incident did to him. Of course he’d still be feeling the sting of such a betrayal.

Survival comes first. Wasn’t that something you believed in after Torfan, trying to push Kaidan away, as if he was tainted by being with you?

Maybe he didn’t want Vido ruining something else for him. And that… failed quite spectacularly.

Maybe he felt safe in his old ways. A mission all to his own…

The elevator arrived and he entered his personal code for his cabin.

The doors opened quick enough. And he headed straight back towards his desk, pulling off his gloves and tossing them next to a quarian ship replica he was working on and a part of one of Zaeed’s trigger mods.

What now? Does he send him a message? Does he go down to his part of the ship?

A ping on his terminal cut through the silence of the cabin.

ZM: Are you in your cabin? I think we need to talk, baby.

His heart began pounding in his chest. We need to talk. Not a phrase anyone loves to hear.

But that endearment.

Baby. Not goddamn idiot or asshole or bastard or any combination of the words.

RS: I am. It’s always open for you, Zee.

In return, he’ll send him his nickname. A teasing little letter.

To show things haven’t changed.

Yet.

No, nothing will fucking change. What did Samara say? Bonds forged in stress and survival. This is just an extension of that.

Waiting for those doors to open felt like an eternity. Waiting for that lock to turn from yellow to green.

Waiting for Zaeed to step out and–

That sound.

He tilted his chin up, crossing his legs in his chair. Pure confidence. Nothing will shake him.

Not even–Zaeed, revealed by the doors. Wearing his work pants and a basic T-shirt and his goddamn N7 hoodie. He looked like shit otherwise. Dark circles. A furrowed brow.

No rage dancing behind those eyes right now.

He steps forward slowly. “There’s a lot more I owe you than just a goddamn talk.” His voice is a warm gravel, yet tinged with… regret. Sorrow. Pure unadulterated emotion.

“You do.” He replied back, curtly, and immediately winced. He meant to keep the bitterness away. Dull the knives still waiting to be unleashed. Hold back the acid meant to hurt and burn.

All Zaeed did was nod. Not even say another fucking word.

So Regis stands up and closes the distance, reaching out for a hand. A touch. Feeling that rough skin indicative of a life of action and fights and survival. “Let’s sit on the couch.”

“Lead the way.”

The grip they shared was tight. A lifeline. He guided him over and sat down next to him, their legs touching, at least. No cuddling. No cradling. Not yet.

Regis focused his gaze on him, searching for something that wasn’t so fucking out in the open. Zaeed met his gaze, flicked his eyes upward before back at him, and cleared his throat. “I need to start by saying that Vido getting away isn’t something I’m going to easily forget. Not for one goddamn minute. I’ll always be pissed that he was so fucking close to meeting whatever sorry bastard made him exist in this shithole of a universe. But–”

None of that was surprising. Still stung. His eyes narrowed.

He still let him say his piece. All he can do, right? Zaeed made the move to talk, and Regis wasn’t going to shut him out. Not when his heart ached and yearned and wished.

“Icing you out and acting like I could do this all alone is all my fucking fault. Vido getting away… is not just my fault. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking by not just spitting out what my bullshit was really about.” Zaeed’s hand moved to grip his thigh. Regis put his hand on top of his.

Softening his gaze, he took a deep breath. Focused back on the man he loved with all his heart. The man that helped complete him alongside Kaidan.

He’s always been Zaeed. You know what he’s like.

“That’s exactly it. You weren’t thinking… but maybe you were. Just because we’ve shared this bed and said the four letter magic word doesn’t mean that secrets need to always be shared.” He squeezed his hand. “But what you did made me wonder what the hell I may have done for you to not trust me when…”

He trailed off. When I told you all about T’Soni. About dying in space. About how much Cerberus struck fear in how they were able to bring me back...

He cleared his throat. “When I could’ve just flinged that bastard off the balcony with a beautiful fucking lightshow as you nailed him in the head with a damn headshot.”

He knows what you really wanted to say.

Zaeed raised up his other hand and touched it to the Blue Suns tattoo on his neck. A tattoo Regis worshiped just a few nights before. “I’m not good at this shit. I’m… no. I’m not mad at you. Far from it. I’m pissed at myself for turning into the bastard I thought I buried when I met you and Kaidan. When I realized that maybe being on my own was a sack of shit. Even when we all lied to ourselves and walked away.”

Regis found himself leaning into him at that statement. Zaeed wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into his side. He inhaled deeply. Smoke, gun oil, citrus, home and love and Zee.

“I thought going back into my old ways was the only fucking way to handle this. Despite having you and your skills by my side. This has been my goddamn plan, my goddamn revenge for years, and part of me couldn’t stand knowing that someone got the shot off of Vido before I could. I survived and made a name for myself for years under that mindset. What was one more fucking mission.” The venom directed at himself made Regis knit his eyebrows. The self-deprecation.

The words he remembered flinging back at him on that landing area.

But he still let him speak.

“Nothing you said was a goddamn lie. You know me too well. Maybe I haven’t really changed. Maybe I am still just a merc vying for survival and a big payout all to myself… never giving a shit about anyone else involved. Maybe that’s why I didn’t come back up to our bed. Let you sleep alone… because I treated you like every piece of shit I’ve worked with.”

Another wince. Remembering what he said to him, remembering how much he wanted him to hurt.

Regis studied his face. Open and full of regret. “When I said those things to you… all I wanted to do was make you hurt, Zee. You have changed. You're a better man than you were.” He shook his head at himself. “Even during our days when we first met on Omega, when we were two goddamn Alliance idiots fucking up your hit on a target, you never treated us like two bit mercs picked up off a street.” He gestured over to the bed, and Zaeed followed his gesture. His face softened when he saw the hoodie. “I slept with the damn thing and I wanted it to be you so fucking bad and–”

“Everything is my fuck up, Regis,” Zaeed said, interrupting his rambling, his hand moving to cup his face. Zaeed opened his mouth to continue, but Regis surged forward to claim his lips, pressing a soft kiss against them, swallowing anything he was going to say.

“We both made mistakes yesterday. Let me say my piece,” Regis murmured against his lips before pressing a kiss next to the scar by his white eye. Zaeed's eyes closed at the contact, letting out a sigh before nodding.

“If it absolves you, Zee, you're forgiven. We aren't perfect. Shit happens. We're owning it right fucking now. But–” His voice cracked. “I nearly saw you die. That fucking beam--if I wasn't there with my biotics, who knows what would've happened. And in the moment and after I was so fucking pissed you didn't acknowledge that.”

Zaeed's eyes were still closed, but his face was tightly knit together. Regis moved to cup his face instead, letting himself be vulnerable, admitting yet another fear in his heart. “There’s been two times in my life now where I nearly saw my lover die. And I was the catalyst that prevented it from happening. The catalyst that may have even caused the fucking situation to happen.” Sending Kaidan to the bomb site. Choosing the workers on Zorya instead of Vido. Even if he saved them all–Ash and Kaidan, Zaeed and the workers…

“And–” Regis’s voice cracked again, and he cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “And I was so fucking angry that you didn’t acknowlege what it means when someone I love is in danger? Isn’t that fucked? We’re not even ready to face that damn Relay and I couldn’t handle seeing you–”

“Regis, baby,” Zaeed said, cupping his face and making him face him. Glowing red eyes to mismatch scarred and green. He met his gaze and blinked away the frustrated tears that were forming. How fucking pathetic. “I should’ve said something. Should’ve acknowledged what you did and continued to do. Shoud’ve been me in that fucking bed even if we couldn’t stand to look at each other… fixed that tarp for you.” He let out a rough sigh and snorted at himself, clearly unkindly. “Again, all this bullshit is because of me. What would putting a bullet in that fucking bastard’s head done for me? Couple of seconds of glee before his corpse cools? And realize… twenty fucking years led to that… That I wasted twenty fucking years, no one else…” His voice was a low growl before he closed the distance between them, their foreheads touching. Regis leaned into the touch, feeling something in him… soften and almost break down with how fucking raw Zaeed was being right now. Never quite expecting this from the man.

Jack must’ve really kicked his ass. Maybe he should get his head checked out.

“We will handle the Relay together as a goddamn team, always as a goddamn team. Just like we promised after you recruited me and I saw you again. Samara also kicked my ass.”

Regis snorted at that, interrupting him. “How we are as one. How we should always be.”

He barked out a laugh. “Thought it was a sack of stinking shit until I thought about it longer than a goddamn minute. Should’ve realized that far sooner. No more secrets. No more hiding shit. Just us.”

“I think you already knew all about it… considering you never bitch to me when I almost always drag you along,” Regis teased slightly.

Zaeed smiled back. “I bitch, just not to you about it.”

“Thought we just agreed to no more secrets.”

“Didn’t say it applied to past bullshit,” Zaeed chuckled, kissing his forehead.

“Fair enough, you bastard.” Regis shook his head, smiling. “I love you. Always. Our bullshit didn’t change that.” Never will. “We’re making it right and acknowledging our shit, and we both made mistakes.” He gave him a hard look. “I could’ve done more before entering that damn refinery. Or–” He cut himself off sharply. “Doesn’t matter. Things could’ve been different. It’s about what we do now. And how I’m going to use every resource I can to help you hunt that bastard down, just as you’re willing to do for me and my due with T’Soni…”

Zaeed pulled him in close, pulling him in against his chest. “We’re going to win. We’re going to get your revenge. And I’ll take that promise of yours when the time comes and get my due. But for now? I have you back in my goddamn arms and I should have never let you go. I love you too.” He moved to plant himself more comfortably on his lap, staring down at him. His boyfriend. His comrade. His everything. “As I said, you’re forgiven. I know you aren’t going to let me go tonight. Or tomorrow.” Or ever. A yawn escaped him and he cursed at himself. “Well, shit.”

Zaeed pressed a kiss against his lips, a soft and chaste one, all things considered. “I didn’t get a minute of good sleep either. Punished myself and you.”

“We’ll just have to make up for it.”

There was still plenty they needed to talk about. Lay more shit out. But this was enough for now.

And if he was honest with himself, it was all he needed. Acknowledgement of what went down. How they need to do better. Being back in his arms…

“Your goddamn ship. Your goddamn rules,” Zaeed chuckled. “Chakwas could write you a damn note.”

“I have on good authority that she will.”

“Abuse that power of yours.” A fond expression was on his face. “Couldn’t believe Kaidan iced me out at first.” He almost looked annoyed now if it weren’t for the smile tugging on his lips.

“I couldn’t believe you got to him first,” Regis laughed. “And zipped inside my cabin to nip my hoodie.” He pulled on the hoodie strings.

“Selfishly, I wanted a part of you, but didn’t want to face you or some shit… still working that out. Consolidating all the shit in my fucked head.” A wry smile formed on his face. “We should call him.”

It hasn’t been quite a day yet, but he so desperately wanted to hear his voice and see his face again.

“Let’s move to the bed first.” But Regis made no move to get up.

Zaeed rolled his eyes. “I’ll pick you up, princess.”

“Wasn’t that many evenings ago you were the one who was writhing against that pillow.”

“Takes one to know one, then,” he conceded with a smirk, picking him up as they stood up from the couch. He wrapped his arms around his neck and squeezed his legs around him, smiling as he sat him down next to his hoodie. Before Zaeed joined him, he unzipped his jacket and tossed it to the side and pulled on the hoodie. The one he wanted to wear but didn’t. Figured the smell would stay longer if he just cuddled the damn thing….

But the real damn thing was pulling him against his chest and none of that fucking mattered anymore.

It was easy to reach for his portable display on their nightstand and queue up Kaidan’s number. Didn’t take long before it connected and his face filled the screen, concerned only for a brief moment before a warm smile broke out on his face, lighting up the room despite being so far away. “Hey boys. You both look like shit.”

They both laughed. Zaeed snorted. “Great to see you too, baby.”

“Couldn’t resist. I love you both.” Kaidan adjusts his screen, and he notices the uniform he’s wearing. Blue high necked Alliance jacket much like the N7 one he was wearing before trading it for Zee’s hoodie. “Caught me on break, by the way. I’m on Arcturus with some of my new students…”

They launched into a conversation about everything and nothing. Learning about the work Kaidan was doing post Horizon. Biotic students and potential spec ops squads. Checking in on their on-goings on the Cerberus ship. New recruits. Possible future recruits. Opinions on current ones…

Acting like everything was normal.

But they only had so much time…

“It made my day seeing you both trading hoodies, especially after last night.”

“He stole mine,” Regis laughed. “Traded it for his.”

“You appreciated the goddamn gesture anyway.”

Kaidan just stared at them adoringly. “See, I knew you two would be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zaeed waved him off. “I love you, you bastard.”

“Oh, I’m a bastard now? Not Regis?” Kaidan teased.

“So what exactly did you call me when you talked to him last night?” Regis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You're a smart little bastard. I’m sure you can figure that out.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing little about me and you know it.”

“Your tolerance for bullshit is quite short,” Kaidan purred with a wink.

He missed this so goddamn much. Missed having Kaidan by his side… by their side. “You should be thankful you are many systems away,” he purred back. Zaeed kissed him on the top of his head, ruffling his curls.

Kaidan opened his mouth to reply, but a quiet alarm sounded from his end of the call. He made a face, furrowing his eyebrows and losing that easy, open expression. “I wish I could stay on longer, but I need to get back. I love you both. Stay safe out there.”

Both him and Zaeed murmured a soft, quiet, “I love you, too.”

“Be safe out there, baby,” Zaeed affirmed. “We’ll be just fine. We have each other, yeah?”

“I long for the day the three of us are together. I might even make N7 soon…” He trailed off with a grin. “Kick the Collectors asses.”

“Hell yeah, love. Can’t wait to see you in the stripes. We’ll destroy them in your honor,” Regis said, his hand moving to lay on the screen. Zaeed’s hand joined his, and Kaidan pressed his against the screen before ending the call.

This was the time.

He raised up out of his arms, and Zaeed made an annoyed noise. "Why the hell are you getting up?"

"Got something I need to get," he replied, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose.

"And you can't get it with your damn biotics?"

"Chakwas told me to lay off them for a day or two." He bit back the comment about someone who didn't keep an eye on his usage. "I'll just be one second." He held up a finger and walked over to grab the scarf box from his desk and handed it to him once back on the bed. "Picked this up a while back from an order on the Citadel. Never could figure out a good time to pass it on... but there's never really a perfect time for anything," he rambled on as Zaeed took off the top.

Zaeed's face softened before taking out the scarf, holding it up. "And here I almost fucked--"

Regis closed the distance between them, cutting him off, swallowing whatever apologetic bullshit he wanted to spew. "Don't want to hear it." He whispered against his lips when they broke apart, when Regis kissed down the scar on his face. A mark of survival. A mark of revenge.

Zaeed put the scarf on. "Is this your way of giving me a fucking marriage proposal?"

He sounded so fucking happy and earnest that a snort escaped him. "You know, Kaidan and I always treated it like one too. Once we're together again, I'll put in something for some matching scarves for all of us, but this is yours. You're a Shepard. And from what I know about Atlas, I think he would be okay with you joining in on the tradition. Because I'm told he was a stubborn bastard, and who else but the asshole who warms my bed?" A smirk tugged on his lips.

One also tugged on Zaeed's, his eyes shining despite the low light.

Wearing a scarf on armor as a way to differentiate yourself. An act of individuality. Another way of identification that barely passed regs.

A sign that you are part of Regis Shepard's family. First Kaidan. Then Ashley.

Now Zaeed.

And this time, Zaeed closed the distance between them, pushing his tongue into his mouth and holding him tightly as they poured their love and passion for each other in every touch and taste.

When they broke apart and Zaeed’s arms wrapped around him tighter, he didn’t say a fucking word. He pressed up against him as close as he could, closing his eyes and inhaling his scent, feeling his warmth and love.

Nothing more than quiet touch and reassurance.

Later, Zaeed will fix the tarp, and maybe Regis will submit his request for some “medical leave” and spend the rest of the day catching up on sleep… and taking the time to make up on lost time with each other.

Now? Regis was content with being in his arms once more.

More talk, more comfort, more enjoyment in each other and their bodies can come much later.

And when he looked up at the corner of space revealed by the unstuck corner of the tarp, he didn’t feel like he was losing the ability to breathe as long as he was in Zaeed’s arms.

#mass effect #mass effect fanfiction #cleric's writing #masshenko #regis shepard #zaeed massani #kaidan alenko #fucking hell this is done #soooo self indulgent but I'm done!!!!

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