bakerstreet | one day we shall meet again.

WE'LL MEET AGAIN

It's been months or years since you've seen that face... Have you missed them? Do you want to walk over and punch them right in the face? Here's your chance, so don't waste it.

⇒ POST A COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER.
⇒ OTHERS RESPOND.
⇒ GO TO RNG AND ENTER NUMBERS 1-5.
⇒ IF NEEDED, ROLL 1-6 FOR A RELATIONSHIP.
⇒ PLAY OUT THE SCENARIO!
⇒ ???
⇒ PROFIT!!

SCENES
1. FALLING OUT ⇒ You both had a huge fight and haven't spoken in a long time, but for some reason here you are again.
2. MOVED AWAY ⇒ You're back again after moving far away again.
3. DEATH ⇒ One of you died, so it's time to meet via ghostly encounters or dreams to say those last words.
4. FORCED SEPARATION ⇒ Neither of you wanted to separate but others forced it on you. You said you'd make your way back though!
5. OTHER ⇒ Make up your own situation or combine any of the above!

RELATIONSHIPS
1 ⇒ FRIENDS
2 ⇒ ENEMIES
3 ⇒ PARTNERS
4 ⇒ RIVALS
5 ⇒ LOVERS
6 ⇒ SIBLINGS

Stolen from here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Part of her had always known that coming out of this war alive was about as likely as an elcor learning to do backflips. The reality of the situation, of course, was easier to deny until after the fact. She'd done what she could. Blowing up the Citadel, with her on it, it had been the only way to be sure the Reapers would be gone.

Shepard had never really known if she believed in the afterlife, but she sure as hell believed in souls. Especially now, that it seemed like she was lingering as one. Or maybe it was some bizarre after-image created by her cybernetics frying out. Any way she looked at it, she was aware, or aware enough, and standing on the Normandy. Her ship.

She walked the length of the crew deck, which was oddly empty of crew, not able to touch anything, just observing. The ship had taken some damage, but was otherwise looking in okay shape. Hopefully they'd be able to patch her up, get her back in the sky. Just because she'd lost her CO didn't mean it was fair to permanently ground her.

When Shepard rounded the corner to the observation deck, she finally found some of the crew. She squared her shoulders, moving silently into the room.

"Hey, Kaidan," She greeted him like she had a thousand times before, casual as you please. Never mind she was definitely not physically here.

The war had been hard enough, but losing Shepard— that was just the bitter icing on the cruel cake. Kaidan knew that the odds of all of them coming out alive were slim to none, but still, he had hoped. After Sovereign, the Collectors... hell, after everything, Shepard was the only one of them that seemed safe. The only one who was untouchable. (Cerberus thing aside, of course.) Him being alive and Shepard gone— that was the one outcome he hadn't predicted. Or maybe he had, but the idea was so bitter and virulent that he'd tossed it aside.

A few terms had been thrown around: war hero, saviour of the galaxy, all variations of the same damn phrase. (His personal favourite was The Chosen One of the Enkindlers.) Sure, everyone mourned the loss of Shepard, but their elation at finally ending an all-consuming war seemed to overtake that. They had a vigil and burial of course, and there were speeches given and medals presented and politicians and endless debates over everything and anything— and it all made him so mad.

All of it was dedicated to Shepard, but none of it really meant for her.

And all of that was why Kaidan found himself back on the Normandy, helping with simple supply runs. There were other places he could be, but for now, this was where he was most comfortable, and when he when he held his breath long enough to feel the fuzziness creep into the back of his mind, he could almost pretend it was back before the end. Before everything.

It was why he could hear the old familiar greeting, and why he could turn around with the same half-worn smile (now a little more haggard around the edges) and respond with his typical.

"Hey, Shepard."

( ooc: I'm crashing for the night, so apologies for any grammatical errors! )

"You look like hell," she commented, moving towards him. She'd seen the wear and tear throughout the past few months, but he'd never looked as worn as he did right now. She wished she was still there. She didn't even know if she tried to reach out to him if he'd be able to feel her. She hadn't tried touching anything so far, to be sure.

Shepard stopped a few feet further in, hooking her thumbs to her belt loops, looking him over a little more carefully, a faint frown on her face. No ethereal flowing white gown for her in the afterlife, she was dressed in her standard BDUs, casual as ever. It didn't even occur to her that that was possibly out of place, that she was wearing a uniform when she'd died in her armor. It was probably better she wasn't walking around bleeding ghost blood everywhere, though.

She went through the motions of taking a deep breath. It felt natural, everything felt bizarrely normal to her, despite the fact that she knew there was a level of wrongness to her standing there.

"I'm sorry, Kaidan. I don't think I can come back from this one." The second time she'd up and died on him, this time felt worse. There hadn't been time to say goodbyes when the Collectors had attacked the first Normandy. This time there'd been time, but she hadn't been able to say it.

The first statement elicits a slight laugh from him. The war itself had been hell; the past few weeks had merely been him trying to pull himself out of that pit, and failing. It had taken him the greater portion of two years the first time around, and he wasn't sure he could do it a second time.

The situation should have struck him as odd, all things considered. Hallucination, schizophrenia, overly wishful thinking— there were probably dozens of reasons Dr. Chakwas could come up with to explain this moment, but Kaidan really didn't buy any of it. There had been too many absurdities, too many missing links in London, and his only explanation for this moment was hope.

Hope that somewhere out there, in any state, she was still fighting for a chance to meet again. And that was all he really needed.

He closes the distance easily, bringing Shepard into a close embrace. "You don't know that." It was strange disagreeing outright with Shepard, but hesitation was a thing of the past. Far too much had already gone unsaid. "You're here right now, and that's enough hope for me."

She was surprised by the embrace, that she was apparently more or less solid. Maybe it was because she'd wanted so badly to have his arms around her again. She decided to stop trying to figure it out and just go with it.

"Hope, or you've totally lost it," she murmured into his shoulder, leaning into his embrace and slowly bringing her arms up to his back. There was a hint of dry humor to her voice, but for the most part even she didn't find her joke particularly funny. She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of him.

"Either that, or I'm having one hell of a coma dream." She didn't remember anything like this happening the last time she died. But then again, she literally had no recollection of the two years of time between the air in her suit running out and waking up on the Cerberus lab table. Again, things that didn't matter anymore, and she couldn't help her mind drifting to them. She balled her fingers up in his shirt, holding onto him a little more tightly, like she was worried she might start floating away any second.

"I thought we'd actually have a shot, this time."

"I stopped trying to figure these things out long ago," He said quietly, and brought a hand up to cover hers. "Crazy, maybe, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

It's the comment about chances that reminds him how unfair it all seemed— two lost years, everything on Horizon, making up for it and then only having a matter of weeks before it all fell apart, well. It only made this moment that much more poignant.

"We did. We do." Past tense didn't seem to fit. "Even if this is some crazy, coma-induced dream, it doesn't change the fact that the last few weeks we had were some of the happiest in my life. We just missed the happy end."

The bitterness slips out unexpectedly; for all his gusto, he could never put a lid on the slight pessimism that slipped through every now and then. Perhaps realistic was a better word, but in this situation, the idea of realism seemed absurdly unreal.

"I miss you."

She was silent for a moment, turning her hand so she could lace her fingers through his. She felt a little more grounded in this moment, a little more like what had happened on the Citadel was all just some extremely vivid nightmare. She knew the feeling wouldn't last, but she clung to it all the same.

"I miss you too." She squeezed his fingers lightly, opening her eyes and looking up at his face again. She'd had her doubts about rekindling their relationship when they'd first talked it over, but she didn't regret it. The only thing she regretted was not having more time. "I know it doesn't do much good now, but I probably would've gone completely insane if I hadn't had you." She had an absurd awareness of how stressed out she'd been towards the end of everything. In the moment, she'd been too wrapped up in not failing to admit to how heavy everyone's expectations were. Now, though, it didn't even seem to matter.

one day we shall meet again.

3, relationship up to you?

I'll default to LI if you don't mind?

Not at all!

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