Chapter Text
When he first wakes he cannot see or hear, and when he tries to speak it catches on pain. He flinches, he can’t. But he feels the hand that grips his hand so tight it nearly breaks the bones. He knows their shape, that pattern of callouses. 'Kaidan', Shepard mouths his name. He wants to follow the hand that’s crushing his, up the arm, wants to find Kaidan’s face and know he’s alright, but he can’t raise his arm. He can’t move, he can’t see, and the roaring of his own blood in his ears drowns out every other sound.
Three weeks later, his voice is a rasping whisper. He can tell light from dark, and his ears have been ringing. The doctors say that might be good—at least, he thinks that’s what they say. Kaidan traces letters slowly in his hand, spelling words. It’s infuriatingly slow, but it’s communication. It’s something.
At night they curl close together, and Kaidan holds him so tightly it almost hurts.
"Is this okay?" Shepard asks into the dark, silent world.
The weight that is Kaidan settles somewhere down near his legs. A calloused fingertip traces ‘yes' on Shepard's hip. He runs his hand slow, slow, down the bed sheet, until he finds skin. He follows it up, over muscles that twitch slightly at his ticklish-light touch, up and over a shoulder, to the back of Kaidan's neck. Leverage. He shifts his other hand down to push himself up towards sitting.
A hand splayed across his chest pushes him gently back down. “Hey…” he complains. Kaidan takes John’s hand from the back of his neck, moves it up to cup his cheek (John can feel the couple-of-days growth on Kaidan’s face), and shakes his head back and forth, ‘no’.
The savior of the entire galaxy pouts.
He can feel the corner of Kaidan’s mouth pull up at the base of his palm. He glides his hand slightly back, traces the curve of Kaidan’s earlobe with his thumb. The movement makes his hand pull away very slightly, and Kaidan leans back into it, reaffirming the contact.
"K…" John whispers, and isn’t sure if he even voiced it, chest and throat too tight with emotion to feel his vocal cords vibrating properly.
Kaidan’s weight shifts, and settles over Shepard’s legs. They are skin to skin, no clothing, no barriers to each-other’s touch. Touch is all they have, now. John slides his hands up and over Kaidan’s body to meet each-other on his partner’s torso. He feels Kaidan’s chest rise and fall with his breath. He wishes he could see him. He misses the color of his eyes.
Kaidan’s hands settle over his a moment, before running down John’s arms. He leans downward, slowly, and John can only wait. He feels hyper-aware of the fact that Kaidan’s legs are hairy, and he can feel that hair, tickling his sides. Kaidan’s knees are folded on either side of Shepard’s body and John’s hands slide down and run over K’s thighs. Kaidan always had great thighs, John thinks.
Lips press against his, and when he leans up into them John closes his eyes, even though it makes no difference.
Kaidan traces ‘I love you' against the back of John's neck. John cleaves his body up against Kaidan's, and whispers it back against his lips.
Walking is harder than he remembered.
Of course, it would help if he could see.
He’d never thought about how much being able to see where you’re going was a factor in a simple thing like walking around a room. He was getting better, though. He could almost-nearly-kind-of feel a change in the air right before he ran into a wall. Or maybe he was just getting used to the dimensions of the room.
Kaidan was an almost-constant presence. John was a little worried about it, actually. He’d asked him, “Don’t you have better things to do than babysit me? Duties? Planets to rebuild?” But K’d only put John’s hand on his face and shook his head ‘no’. It was frustrating how nobody gave him any straight answers anymore.
Kaidan was getting better at writing to him, and John was getting better at understanding him. Which was good, because it meant the doctors could poke at him properly with K translating things like ‘lift arm R' and 'turn head L’, ‘feel this?’, ‘see light?’.
And he could have visitors. Just friends, people that were trusted. Well, people that Kaidan trusted. John still didn’t have much say in… anything, really. It was driving him crazy.
The first couple of times were awkward. People had to be coaxed into touching him, gripping his shoulder so he knew they were there. They didn’t understand—K would translate what they said, sure, but unless he could feel them, it didn’t feel like they were really there. John wanted to know they were alright, really alright. That nobody was dead and they just hadn’t told him.
He tries talking to Kaidan about it, one night. Tries to express his frustration.
"I feel fucking useless," he says. Kaidan is holding him, because that’s what he does now. John doesn’t mind. He likes to lay his cheek on Kaidan’s neck and feel his heartbeat. Sometimes Kaidan will hum, or something, and John can feel his voicebox vibrating and it’s almost like hearing his voice. Almost.
K doesn’t answer him. So John says it again, making sure he can feel himself voicing it, “I feel USELESS. I hate it!”
K shakes his head.
"Stop coddling me," John growls. "Dammit, talk to me! Tell me what’s happened, whats been happening. Just…. just talk to me. Anything."
Kaidan stiffens, holds John tighter. John feels him swallow. Why? He slides his hand up Kaidan’s body to touch K’s face, brush his cheek. Kaidan leans into his touch, automatic. John feels the biotic’s eyes pinched closed, his jaw clenched.
K is hurting. Kaidan is hurting. John sits up straighter, grabs him, pulls K into his arms. He doesn’t ask why. It doesn’t matter why, not right now. Kaidan buries his face into John’s chest. John feels him start to shake, and all he can do is hold him. So he does, he holds his partner and murmurs quiet things. “It’s okay… it’s alright, K, I’m here. It’s okay…”
Even though it isn’t.