Letting Go

Notes: Just a little drabble-ish thing. Because I'm feeling kind of disappointed at the moment.

Some dreams weren't meant to come true. Shepard knew that with absolute certainty, as he watched Cortez stroke Kaidan's jaw, a small, shy smile on both their faces. It had taken them only two days to find each other, after Kaidan returned to the Normandy.

Shepard had been meaning to talk to Kaidan, meaning to finally say how he felt, to uncork that bottle of emotions that had been tucked away ever since the first time Kaidan had called him 'Shepard' instead of 'Commander' on the SR-1.

He'd been so focused on the war back then, on Saren, on trying to impress both the Council in his new spectre position, and the Alliance, to prove he was worthy of commanding a ship like the Normandy.

Later, he'd told himself, all too aware that later might never come, not because of carelessness, because of time slipping away, but because he'd expected to end up dead fairly soon.

And then they'd won the battle… and he'd ended up dead anyway, months later, at the hands of the Collectors. And when he came back, Kaidan had hated him for the choices he'd had to make. And he'd tried to tell himself that his chance was lost, to move on, to get over it...

But he'd kept a photograph of Kaidan on his desk, regardless, unable to bring himself to throw it out.

And then they'd been together again, Kaidan following his orders with resigned obedience, while Vega questioned his every move. And then Mars came along, and it was Kaidan questioning him.

He should have said something then, should have shoved protocol out into the airlock and told Kaidan that he'd missed him, that he cared about him, that he couldn't imagine fighting this war without him by his side…

But instead he'd held his tongue, muttered some drivel about still being the same man he was before… and then it was Kaidan's turn to nearly die, and Shepard knew he had to say something the next chance he got.

But Kaidan had refused to come back to the Normandy, and Shepard told himself it was for the best. A relationship would only distract him from his duties, from the war, from the need to defeat the reapers…

So he'd said nothing.

So many chances. So many opportunities to do things differently, to change his fate, his life. To stand at the edge of the cliff and simply jump, instead of wondering how deep the water went.

And he had let them all pass him by.

God, he was a fool.

And then Kaidan had come back to the Normandy, and Shepard told himself that this time, finally, he was going to make it work. He was going to say something, was going to tell Kaidan how he felt. So he'd asked EDI where the Major was, and he'd headed down to the shuttle bay to end this ridiculous procrastination…

And he'd stepped out of the elevator… to see Kaidan deep in conversation with Cortez… and then Cortez had leaned in, calm and confident, and kissed him.

And Shepard had felt his heart snap. God, it had hurt.

He'd spent the last four days telling himself all manner of stupid things. It was for the best. It just wasn't meant to be for him. That Kaidan and Cortez deserved to be happy.

But somewhere deep inside, a dream had died. And it was no one's fault but his own. For being too slow. For being too afraid. For daring to think that Kaidan would wait forever.

As he watched, from a dim corner in Purgatory, he saw Kaidan grin at Cortez, saw him pull Cortez's head down to kiss him, saw Cortez's hand sneak downwards until it was out of view… and then Kaidan jumped in his seat, that sexy, husky laugh just audible over the thump of the music.

And Shepard sighed. He had waited too long. The dream was over.

Sometimes you just had to let go.