"Kaidan."

That was all she'd said at first—his name. His name, heavy with the weight of everything that had gone before; her cool eyes meeting his.

His brain was screaming at him to move, to decide, to do something… but, his limbs wouldn't move. The Council was behind him; the elevator in front. And, in the middle of it all—as always—was Shepard. Shepard with her impossible stare that had devoured his soul a lifetime ago. He hesitated, knowing full well that this was how soldiers got killed.

Shepard signalled to Garrus and Tali to lower their guns, but hers didn't budge. Her pistol was trained on his chest, just as his was on hers.

"Udina's behind this attack."

He could hear the unspoken plea behind her words, but he kept his Carnifex steady. "How do you know?"

"The salarian councillor confirmed it. Kaidan, there are Cerberus soldiers in the elevator shaft behind us. If you open that door, they'll kill you all." Her voice was level and even, displaying that unflappable calm that had served her so well on Torfan. The "Butcher" they still called her, whispered with the reverence of a nightmare to frighten new recruits.

It was the Butcher who faced him down now.

"How can I believe you, Shepard?" He was stalling, the need to act coiling in the pit of his belly, but he so desperately wanted to believe. Convince me… "Shepard, look at us. This can't end well. Just… put it down."

He'd dreamt of her, every night during the endless months and years after she'd died. It always started with the feel of her skin sliding across his; mapping the contours of his chest with careful bites and the warmth of her tongue. Then, the heat of her hips pressed against him as he surrendered to the force of her presence; carved open beneath the blade that was the untouchable Commander Shepard.

If he was lucky, it stopped there and he woke hard and aching, needing only a few strokes of his hand to bring him to a numb and furious release.

Most nights, he was unlucky.

The Normandy exploded and burned around him—screams and smoke—as she ordered him to go. Sometimes he did; other times, he stood, paralyzed like he was now, and watched her die. She had died… was dead…

Even if this was Shepard—his Shepard—there was no denying the fact that she'd joined forces with Cerberus. Hell, she'd even admitted it. Sure, she wore Alliance colours now, but the lines had already been blurred, like the eerie red scars that cut across her cheeks.

"Kaidan." His name again.

He pretended it didn't sound like he remembered; the ghost of her breath against his mouth as he'd rocked feverishly against her and into his own tight fist in the hollow darkness.

He pretended it wasn't him, just as it wasn't her; the outcome of this moment decided long ago in the chaos of burning scrap and debris.

Not his hands.

Not his gun.

Not his Shepard.

"I'm sorry," he whispered… and fired.

A/N: This story was heavily inspired by the song, "Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)" sung by Nancy Sinatra.

A giant, squishy thank you to my beta, Josie Lange, who squeezed in the time to review this, even with a newborn baby keeping her insanely busy (as only newborns can do).

Apologies to everyone waiting on Fracture Patterns. The entire household, myself included, have been a cesspool of illness these past two weeks and real life has been rather rough-going of late. I'm doing my best to have a new chapter done soon, though. Thank you for your patience.