It's the shore leave after saving the Citadel, and they can't keep their hands off each other. This is their unofficial early honeymoon. They'll wait until they're done rooting the rest of the Geth out before they make their engagement official. They won't be separated by war, and they won't stand for separate beds much longer. But then a mysterious ship appears, and Shepard orders Kaidan to safety. She dies and they're both broken beyond all sense of repair.

After Horizon, she makes no attempt to contact him. She won't poison his career. After the events in the Bahak system, while Shepard is in Alliance custody for six months, Shepard receives no contact from Kaidan. His lack of communication wounds her. So when they meet again, she is brisk with him. She had to keep her emotions in check if she wanted to keep her composure in front of Anderson.

On Mars, she is too slow to save him, and she wants to turn back time, to take his place if it shields him. She avoids seeing him in the hospital to avoid the guilt and memories. When his gun is trained on her, she begs for him to see reason, and she is spared. But once on board the Normandy, he keeps to himself for most of the war, secluded in his observation lounge. He is more powerful than before, and she is glad for him.

Garrus became her closest companion, keeping her company and easing the pain in her broken heart. She knows he cares about her, but there's no time to figure out love in the middle of a war, and she couldn't move on from Kaidan if she wanted to. But then they hit on Earth, and she can't help herself. She takes Garrus and Kadian, just how it used to be on the SR-1. But getting an evac is difficult, and they're getting swarmed. Garrus shoves both of them in the shuttle. But before he can get in too, five husks grab onto him, and he falls down the side of the building. She screams and someone holds her back. She bangs two fists against the side of the shuttle before composing herself. She looks at Kaidan, but he won't look at her. She makes her final push, and chooses destruction, because it was what Kaidan would have done, and she couldn't place the galaxy in her bloody hands.

She wakes up a week later to Miranda, Karin, and a team of the best physicians in the galaxy caring for her, nursing her back to health. Well-wishers send their best from across the galaxy, but the only wish she looks for never arrives. She finally recovers and bullies the Council to keep a squad of engineers working on reviving the Geth when they say it's time to stop wasting their resources on a senseless cause. She's always been one for senseless causes.

Five years later, the galaxy is repairing itself. A few of Kaidan's old students are being considered for Spectre candidacy, and she is present, along with several others, to testify. She says it's to watch humanity blossom, but truthfully it's to see him speak. Halfway through her speech, her chest tightens and she can't catch her breath. She tries to speak, but collapses instead. Arms catch her fall, and she sees one of the students for a moment before the lack of oxygen forces her to black out.

Now she's awake again. They told her that she was unconscious for over two days. The problem was a cybernetic pacemaker that shorted out and her heart stopped. The cybernetics were repaired and checked for any signs of wear and tear, but she'll need to tone down the combat action and stress. The doctor leaves and she feels more alone than ever, knowing the heartache will never leave. So she waits until they aren't watching her anymore, and tears slowly stream down her face, longing for his hands to dry her eyes.

What she doesn't know are all the things he did for her.

After Horizon, he waited for a response that never came. He took it as rejection. After the events in the Bahak system, he was stunned, but sure that it is her. He testified that Commander Shepard didn't have any control chips. He said that in her position, he would have done the same thing on Aratoht. It was a risky move for his career, but it was worth it when they didn't sentence her to death. He took the Lazarus data she sent him and petitioned to have appropriate meals given to her while she was in custody, given the increase in her biotics. While she was in custody, he couldn't bring himself to contact her. Any contact would have be scrutinized, and he wouldn't risk the Admirals changing their sentence over a compromised witness. Her brisk contact with him was painful, though he said nothing about it. Anderson was too close to share any personal words.

On Mars, he saw the future flash before his eyes. He saw her trying to fight without his help, and his fear for her urged him to fight. Her absence in Huerta was noted and painful. He took the Spectre promotion based on her response email encouraging him. He hoped he could live up to her example. During the coup, he listened to her plea, and spared her on faith. He just couldn't pull the trigger on a loved one. During the war, he kept to the observation lounge, filling out Spectre and Alliance paperwork for both of them. She would see him if she wanted to.

He saw her grow close to Garrus and while part of him wanted to wish her all the happiness in the galaxy, part of him wanted to hear her say she loved him once more. He kept her from leaping to her death after Garrus. He couldn't mourn her a second time. But he couldn't stomach the sight of her mourning another man, so he turned away.

When she was lost in the rubble, he organized all of the search parties and kept a functional grid to keep teams from checking an area more than once. He arranged for Miranda to be there for the early surgeries. He pulled a few Spectre strings to keep the Alliance's best engineers working on the Geth years after they were supposed to give up.

Five years later, he's trying to move on with his life, but Shepard never strays far from his mind or heart. He attends different functions of hers just to hear her speak again, even if it isn't to him. He's proud that his students are being considered for Spectre status, but he just keeps hoping that she will be there for the hearings. When her heart fails, he catches her and keeps his students with Shepard. And while the students keep her heart pumping, he places calls to Chakwas and Lawson, even bullying Huerta into clearing an OR for Shepard. And when she comes out of surgery, he sleeps in a chair in her room to make sure she isn't alone, leaving only for one of his student's Spectre acceptance. All these years, he doesn't know if she still loves him, but he loves her.

But when he walks into the room and sees her awake, his heart leaps into his throat. Her tears tear his heart in half, and before he can stop himself, he crosses the room in two steps and takes her into his arms.

It was exactly what she needs. She needs his scent, his touch, his strong arms holding her safe and sound as though they were still on the SR-1. And she weeps. She weeps for the SR-1, for Ash and Pressley, for Thane and Mordin and Legion, for Garrus, but most of all, for them. When the tears calm, he is stroking her back.

"Why?" she finally asks. "Why did you hate me? Why did you stop loving me?" The look of pain on his face puts fear in her heart.

"Because I didn't know if you loved me. I was waiting for you. I knew you loved Garrus and I wouldn't make things more difficult for you." She splutters in bed.

"Garrus? How would I love –" She trails off as she realizes how things would seem to him. Before she knows it, words are tumbling from her mouth. She tells him everything. At the end, she waits, looking into his face, praying to everything she's ever read or heard of that he won't reject her again. Because if he does, she'll die of heartbreak right then and there.

He's overwhelmed. All this time, he'd thought all the wrong things. If only he hadn't been so hesitant. But now he gathers her back in his arms and kisses her. Finally, his hurting soul can mend and heal, now that she is near again. His heart is pounding in his ears as her hands grip his back, as strong as he remembered them. His hands tangle in her hair and hips. It takes a few seconds to realize that an alarm is sounding. They break the kiss to realize that her heart monitor is beeping over her racing heart. They look towards the window at the sound of hurried feet and a muffled giggle. Three nurses and a doctor had raced over and caught them making out like teenagers. The giggling nurse enters and softly asks them not to scare the staff. He turns bright red and Shepard stammers. After Shepard calms her heart, he curls up next to her, offering to read a story. She falls asleep to his voice with a smile on her face, and he couldn't be happier.

Three days later, they release her. He sells his flat on the Presidium and moves to her place. They share a bed and recovery and stories and dinner and retirement and children and old creaky joints. More than a hundred years later, they pass away on the same night, together on the same bed. They know they won't be buried together, but they swap amps and dog tags one night, their defiance and their bond. They shouldn't be buried together, but their children force an exception. The first two Human Spectres rest together.

AN: Okay, there were so many feeling associated with writing this. I cried more than once. This was based on the heart-wrenching song "The Bed Song" by Amanda Palmer. The music video is stunning and moving. I was body-slammed by Shenko feelings when I saw it and started writing.

I was originally going to give this a really sad ending where they don't realize what the other feels until they're old and 75, each with a few adopted kids. Kaidan had all biotic kids, and Shepard had Krogan and Turian kids. But I can't do anything that sad to my OTP. So you get a happy ending instead.

"The Bed Song" belongs to Amanda Palmer and Bioware owns Mass Effect.