Chapter Text
Everything she feared came pouring out. Assuming that they were both lucky enough to survive the Reapers, a first-generation baby born to two biotic parents would be a target; that the child is hers - and not just because of who she pissed off in her job, but because she was, essentially, a walking corpse, added another target to her back.
Kaidan didn’t hold back. “Say it, Eris. Just say you don’t want this. If we have a child, you’re really tethered to me. No running off, no one-night stands with anyone who breathes in your direction, no -“
He quietened when she inhaled sharply, her hand moving subconsciously, protectively to her stomach. Figuring he could say whatever the Hell he wanted to her because she did miss a detail, she did not bite back. The repercussions of this egregious oversight were so vast she could hardly breathe.
When she managed to ask him if he remembered her Commander training back in ‘76, his frown said: Why bring up months of unpleasant memories from years ago? But it was important. Eris had to make him understand. “Deschain asked me, for the hundredth time, what it was between me and you. I told him that in another life, we’d be married, watching our kids run around our garden.”
As far back as that, what she wanted and what was possible, what she could have never did match up. Until now. And before any of the things already mentioned, there was something else. Her throat worked painfully as she told him. “My mother died bringing me into this world, and I am certain it is a sacrifice I have made her regret every day of my life.”
It hit him that Eris harbored a deep fear of turning into her own mother, and the thought of their daughter following in her footsteps terrified her. No matter how hard he tried, there were no words to comfort or reassure her.
In his world, childbirth was neat and tidy and hadn’t endangered women’s lives for over a century. But in hers? It may as well be the 1800s. And given the skin weave, the way her body rapidly healed at any given assault, straightforward surgery would not be an option for Eris. And she already knew that.
Through floods of body-heaving tears, she watched curiously as Kaidan crossed the room, pulled out a vinyl record and placed it on the deck.
As the needle made contact, the familiar notes of the song that played as they danced at their wedding - which had been just the two of them - came on. Putting it on always signalled a pause in a heated discussion, a way to quietly reconnect whilst they gathered their thoughts.
He held out his hand to Eris, and she took it, allowing herself to be drawn up and into his arms.
But you rescued me from reachin’ for the bottom/And brought me back from being too far gone.
Her tears soaked his shirt as they danced, and after, she handed him a bottle of TM88. “Let’s have at,” she said. Having one of these long, painful conversation with a bottle of water in her hand was the strangest feeling.
She hadn't disturbed his sleep when she slipped out of bed, but the suitcase slamming on the bed jolted him awake. Her movements were becoming clumsy under the altered centre of gravity.
Dread would have rang through him, but this was happening right on schedule, he thought, rubbing his tired eyes as he watched her hastily pack clothes into the suitcase.
"We can escape on the arc," she suggested again, quickly grabbing more items from the wardrobe. The sound of the suitcase crashing against the wall startled her, and her eyes darted with a wild and frantic look. Her chest heaved with each breath. "I guess that's a no, then? Not interested in starting fresh in Andromeda?"
They’d agreed it was most likely to be out of the frying pan and into the fire. Kaidan shuffled to the edge of the bed, taking her hand in his, kissed her brow, and pushed her hair back from her face.
As she climbed onto his lap, he moved his mouth to the spot behind her ear. It’s not long before her legs are wrapped around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into his back, her breath coming in hot, sharp gasps on his damp neck.
“That’s it,” he murmured, thumb moving languidly on her clit as his cock felt the ripple of her riptide rising again. “There you go.”
Eris’s fingers tightened on the nape of his neck, coming with a broken wail a hair's breadth from his ear, and Kaidan shuddered, his groaning release filling her.
In the early hours of the morning, he awoke to empty arms. Eris lay curled up tightly at the edge of the bed, her face hidden in the crook of her arm. A pang coursed through him as he reached out to touch her hair.
There was no research to be done and no way to gain knowledge to feel some power or control over the situation. Lawson had yet to respond, and Liara was busy tracking her down for them, under strict instruction not to reveal the pregnancy to anyone.
But with only a month to go, her mind continued to wander viciously during the long hours of the night. Her body healed from all manner of wounds it had no business being able to, yet she could not countenance surviving childbirth.
Her voice was thin, strained. “Tell her the truth about me. Please. Don’t let her find out from someone else.”
Painful tears rose in his eyes. He buried his face in her neck and breathed her in, hand wandering to the ever-changing curve of her stomach. “You can tell her yourself, Eris.”
He kissed her, pulling her back into his embrace, enveloping them both in the warmth of the blankets.
In the end, it happened fast, exactly how Lawson predicted, cautioning she wouldn’t feel it until the end. Despite the pain dampeners that allowed her to fight through war zones with horrific injuries, it seared enough to take her breath away and make her head spin.
Kaidan’s eyes were fixed on her bare back, her spine flickering like a Christmas tree, cracks reaching out like tree roots as she leaned with her hands splayed on the wall, rocking and enduring the sweat-dripping anguish, refusing to be touched.
Her silence was broken only occasionally by her whispering something about a light, momentary affliction - something she would later explain were her grandmother's words.
On the day a new human being is born, the mother is born too; the woman existed before, but the mother did not.
Caring for a newborn was a simple task. Feed, change, and keep them comfortable and dry. Eat and sleep whenever the opportunity arises. Yet somehow, keeping another person alive and happy was far more terrifying than anything Eris faced before or after.
“Don’t you dare,” he said. Someone, somewhere, was always going to need her, and their lives had been a living horror show for far too long.
The scanner continued to blink at her steadily, flashing the red light that signified a distress call. Only a select few were privy to that number, so she moved, walking towards it again.
Kaidan exploded. “I said don’t you dare! Don’t you dare, Eris! We have a daughter now!”
She didn’t stop; her hand was less than an inch away when she felt herself being held in a stasis. His power was immense now, and whilst it would be easy for her to throw it off, he had to remove it of his own volition. “That’s enough.”
“We promised we’d keep it away from her,” he said weakly, struggling to hold her as her biotics instinctively fought against his control.
“I know,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “It could be nothing.”
And when dancing or drinking it out didn’t work, there was always fucking it out.
Later that night, they lay in bed. “You’re not leaving," he grunted, a lump in his throat preventing him from meeting her gaze.
Eris leaned over, threading her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, eyebrow arched in a question. “Now, who’s being overly cautious? It’s only a meeting. And I was rather hoping you’d come with me.”
The dark feeling of pressure in his chest continued to get worse and Kaidan pushed her away, getting out of bed. He stood there, repeatedly dragging a hand through his hair, shaking his head sullenly.
He caught sight of her biting her lip appreciatively at his naked form. Despite himself, he cracked half a smile and agreed.
He fell to the ground, one hand cradling the head of their nine-month-old, the other supporting his weight to prevent him from crushing her.
HQ was no more than a heap of blasted-apart bricks, steel frames warping and collapsing under the weight of shattered concrete. The city beyond, conveniently viewable through a hole in the wall, looked the same.
There previously sleeping baby, safely strapped to his chest in a woven wrap, looked up at him with her mother’s eyes, utterly furious at her nap being disturbed this way.
Beyond his barrier, the air was clouded with dust, metal fragments, debris from buildings, and pieces of human remains hurtling towards them. Amidst the flicker-flicker-boom-flicker-flicker-boom of Reaper fire and counterattacks, there was a nightmarish scene of screaming, confusion and death.
Only a meeting, he thought, kissing her dark hair as he stood up. Next to him, Vega bellowed for Anderson and Shepard, shooting Kaidan a confused look when he laughed. “If you think that’s enough to kill her, you’re in for a Hell of a ride, Lieutenant.”
She materialised through the wall, husk-like and ghastly, her charred face weaving itself back into existence. “Quite right,” she said, walking lightly and then going on tiptoe to check her daughter with a soft murmur. “Hello, sweetheart,” she said before casting a stern ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance at her husband.
Vega felt this could be the last series of moments in their lives, and Shepard stood grinning, taunting Alenko with, “Come along, Major.”
He watched as Eris killed a dozen Husks in half as many heartbeats, laughter pouring forth from her mouth, all smile and snarl combined. She didn’t bother to push the errant curls from her gore-covered face, stepping over the twisted bodies littering the mangled building back towards them.
He turned to Alenko, who merely shrugged whilst shielding the babies ear with one hand, using the other to cast Reave at the dozen or so husks ascending the side of the building they were aiming for. “I just light them up and watch her go.”
An instant later, Eris charged into them with such force that the boom hurt Vega’s ears. He stepped out of the blue barrier with his assault rifle in hand, only for Alenko to swiftly slam any husks that escaped the initial biotic blast to the ground.
Both of them had yet to draw a weapon, and as he watched her pull a door open with her bare hands, he started to think that perhaps the Commander was what the rumours claimed.
”Holy shit, what are those -“
A blast from multiple frag grenades sent him flying. She dragged him up to his feet as if he weighed no more than the baby Alenko held, giving him a withering look. “Did you have a head injury during a crucial developmental milestone?”
Even if he’d only been tinkering outside for an hour, Kaidan would ask, “Everything the same?” when he walked through the door.
But now, less than sixteen hours after jumping back onto the SR2, she might never hear him ask that question again. Eris sat next to her husband's broken body, breastfeeding their daughter, desperately willing him to stay alive for the sake of their child far more than for herself.
In the past, people would always make way for her as she walked through the ship, and her orders were obeyed without question. Before Mars, Vega's unfamiliarity and his probing questions made it feel different.
“I don’t have time for you to question my priorities or loyalty. I’ve already died for this cause once, and I won’t hesitate to do so again if that is what is required for us to win.”
She had never been one to second-guess herself, but as her eyes catalogued every welt, every scrape, every bruise that continued to expand and form on every part of his wrecked skin that she could see, doubt consumed her.
Acknowledging that there was no choice but for them both to ground-side did not help.
Keeping everything hidden behind the Full Metal Bitch facade proved impossible with a tiny hand resting on her chest, making staring into nothing and zoning out no longer an option.
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time
For the entire three-hour journey to the Citadel, Eris sobbed uncontrollably as their daughter slept, oblivious to everything going on around her.
And she felt it wouldn’t be the last time she did so before this was over.
Forty eight hours later, she was once again over all this talk. All the stupid men posturing with their stupid requests whilst millions burned. With her husband lying unconscious in Huerta and her daughter’s existence - who was overdue a feed, going by the way her breasts ached - now public knowledge, she didn’t have time for this.
The glass Eris held suddenly launched across the war room, shattering above the head of the new Primarch. “Don’t make me ask twice. I’ve got a long history of doing extreme violence at a time like this.”
Garrus’s subvocals roared at her, and she shrugged curtly, raising an eyebrow. “I’d hate to have to cut him down to size, is all.”
After she left, Victus asked. “And you tried to tell me she’s not some sort of mad woman.”
Garrus reiterated that he absolutely trusted Shepard. Despite her reputation as exactly that, he’d always felt secure in his friendship with the ruthless renegade.
Until she visited the Main Battery an hour later, knocking him to the floor and jamming the barrel of her shotgun under his chin. “You think I wouldn’t do this, not really. Not my Shepard. But I have a daughter now, and I would put you and everyone else on this ship down like a dog with my bare hands to get back to her if I had to. Understand?”
He nodded. If he’d thought a Shepard with nothing to lose was dangerous, what was he in for with a Shepard who had everything to lose?
But you rescued me from reachin' for the bottom/And brought me back from being too far gone
Their relationship always ended the same way – with him grief-stricken. As he set down the change bag, he caught sight of his hair, now predominantly grey and an unkempt mess so long it curled at his cheekbones.
Their seventeen month old made a soft snuffling noise against his neck, and Kaidan allowed himself a moment to be fucking furious with her, whether she’d saved the damn Galaxy again or not.
Their daughter was growing up - walking, now, in a fashion - without her mother, without so much as a fleeting memory of her. He couldn’t decide if that would be a gift or a burden. All whilst he was being glad handed, being told what a hero his wife, Commander Eris Shepard was. The word made bile rise in his throat every time he heard it.
He turned the corner into their - No. It was his bedroom now. He reminded himself of this as he stepped into the room for the first time since they won the war five months ago. But his thoughts were interrupted by a blinking light on the private, encrypted line they used to communicate.
Unlocking the layers of security felt like an eternity, but finally, he gained access and was confronted with a video feed. After Mars, she’d said. “I don’t want her to be an orphan like me, Kaidan! She needs one of us alive. And we both know she’s better off with it being you.”
The SR2 was the safest place for them, and so he’d stayed with their daughter, rarely being taken groundside with her. Kaidan didn’t like it, but he understood.
A swirling haze of orange-red particles formed an ethereal, swirling mist that rushed around and through her veins, moving, changing, jolting the prone body of his wife. Or what he thought looked like her; it was difficult to tell, given the rubble, the chunks of armour missing and the injuries.
Four months ago, not too far from Hackett’s body, an arm still encased in armour was dug out. Anderson explained she’d been at the heart of the explosion, and played the last recordings from hers and Hacketts OmniTools.
“That looks awfully painful,” said Eris, tipping his shoulder with her foot as he writhed on the floor.
Looking at her now, the indoctrinated Admiral didn’t doubt she was callous enough to leave him here to what would be a grisly end. “You wouldn’t let your only living parent, your dear old Dad, die, would you?”
She crouched and ripped his dog tags off. “Whilst I have occasionally cared about certain things, this is not one of those times, and you are not one of those things.”
The core was almost at lethal capacity, and with no way up, back, or out, she tapped on her OmniTool.
The blurry video feed finally loaded, showing only her tired husband. “Where’s Odette?”
He grinned. “I left her in the basement playing with some of your Spectre grenades.”
Eris laughed against a sharp sting of tears. The view panned to the chubby, sleeping, barely a-year-old baby with a thick shock of dark hair sleeping in the crook of Kaidan’s elbow.
He knew something was off and reminded her that she was his kind of stupid.
“I tried, I -“
“I tried, I’m sorry, my loves,” she said, an extended version of their call and the recording. They knew anything designed to wipe out the Reapers would also wipe her out and he couldn’t watch as the crucible fired, nor could he turn it off after.
It continued rolling, showing another few hours of footage. Sometime later - there was a coughing, groaning, grunting sound, then:
Her voice was full of mirth. “It’s unwise to shoot a girl while her systems are restoring.”
Kaidan realised he was looking at the feed from someone else’s armour. It couldn’t be Hackett’s either. He’d flatlined not long after she walked away. Which meant at least one other made it up there.
He closed his eyes and shielded them with his hands from the blast that exploded forth from her. The footage died, but it continued playing, showing nothing but white noise.
Another few minutes passed.
A rattling, gasping breath echoed a few times, followed by the distinct screech of her nanotech armour shearing over concrete, almost as if Eris were being dragged.
“Prisoner alive and contained,” said a voice he didn’t recognise, and a few seconds later, it cut out.