Chapter Text

Chapter I - A lonely night

“Don’t you ever do that again!” Cortez shouted as he punched Shepard’s shoulder, sending him stumbling backwards against the glass of his fish tank in one of those rare moments Shepard wasn’t guarded against anything that might be thrown at him. Cortez had that effect on him these days.
“I was worried sick.”
Shepard composed himself, stood up straight – or as straight as he could – and pointedly said “Ouch.”
Steve stopped mid-step, meeting his eyes. “Shit, did you get hurt?”
“Headache and a few broken ribs, nothing a little medi-gel and good night’s sleep won’t fix,” Shepard shrugged it off.
“Serves you right for blowing up an Asari monastery without telling me first.”
Steve held up the pretense of anger a little while longer, but his heart had already softened, now that he knew Shepard was safe. He relished in the vulnerability of Shepard holding on to his hand as he lowered himself onto the couch. This was a side of Shepard no one else got to see and Steve had started a habit of taking mental pictures of these precious moments of privilege. Every one of them leading him a small step closer to the man behind the name.
Like everyone else he had easily been drawn in by the Commander, who besides being easy on the eyes, could be jovial, approachable and absurdly charming in an unintentional, awkward sort of way. But when he had started to take a personal interest in him, checking on him in the Shuttle Bay every single day, whether there was a mission to be flown or not, he had slowly realized that the legendary name was the result of a series of actions, decisions and conversations – from the dramatic to the banal. Shepard did everything with intention, committed himself fully, whether it was making a cup of coffee or saving the Citadel from Sovereign. Steve had felt that genuine interest, that heartfelt empathy Shepard showed him, not just the day he went to the refugee memorial wall on the Citadel, but in those small moments that followed. Like when the Commander shot him a half-smile across the Shuttle Bay while talking to Vega.
Though exactly why he had gotten so lucky to be here now, with a slightly worse for wear Shepard clumsily reaching for a datapad on the table in front of him, Steve wasn’t exactly sure.
“I’ll get you some medi-gel,” he announced and went off to the med bay.

When he returned, Shepard was typing away on that datapad, a glass of amber liquid on the table in front of him.
“Not even broken ribs will get you out of writing those after-action reports?” he asked gently, as he loaded the medi-gel into his Omni-Tool to apply it.
“Already spoken to the Asari councilor on vid-comm, so that’s all taken care of, but you know the Alliance…” Shepard’s voice trailed off as the medi-gel kicked in and the pain in his torso eased. “Aah, much better, thank you,” he said, meeting Steve’s eyes and giving him the hint of a smile. “You’re impossible,” Steve mounted a hollow complaint, then leaned forward to give Shepard a gentle kiss.
“Want any help with that report?” Cortez asked, the amused tone in his voice obviously alluding to the times they had used this excuse to sneak off together for some – naked – alone time.
“I’m afraid I’d be a huge disappointment tonight,” Shepard responded, vaguely gesturing at his battered ribcage.
“I’ll leave you to it then, make sure the Kodiak is in better condition than you.” Cortez knew how to take a hint, and he had gotten used to the fact that Shepard could not be chased. So he rose from the couch and started walking towards the door, resigning himself to a lonely night in his bunk.
“You saying I am not good company outside the sheets?” Typical self-deprecating Shepard. Maybe he wanted to be chased after all?
Cortez turned around, but didn’t move back in his direction. “I’m saying you need to get some rest and I really don’t want to risk accidentally elbowing you in the ribs while we sleep.”
“Fine, fine,” Shepard acquiesced. “Will help keep up appearances anyway.”
Steve tried not to let the last comment bother him. They both knew their relationship was against Alliance regulations, but in the middle of a war against a galaxy-ending threat like the Reapers, surely that couldn’t matter. They hadn’t exactly been careful either, fully embracing the mantra of living for today and worrying about tomorrow… tomorrow.
“I’ll see you in the morning then,” Cortez simply said, turning back around, lightly tapping on the glass of the space hamster’s cage to wish him goodnight too, and disappearing towards the elevator.

In the quiet that settled in after his departure, Shepard let out a sigh, leaning back on the couch and dropping the datapad on the table in front of him.
The awful screams of the Banshees he had discovered earlier that night echoed in his head. He had seen a lot, but even to him they were a harrowing sight. Through his friendship with Liara, he had come to deeply appreciate the Asari, their culture, values and way they carried themselves. To see the Reapers so effectively turn these beautiful beings into the kind of monsters children feared hid in their closets… It broke his heart even more than the sight of any husk did, even though in the end a husk was the same thing in human form.
He resolved to check on Liara in the morning while downing the last of his TM88 Peruvian Whiskey, then decided to leave the report until the morning too and instead go to bed and try to sleep – if the echoes of the Banshee cries would let him.