Mass Effect: 50 First Dates (1/2)
Title: 50 First Dates
Rating: R
Warning(s): Memory loss? Angst
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. Absolutely no profit is being made from this.
Summary: After living through the Thresher Maw incident in Akuze, John Shepard loses his short term memory and forever thinks it is 2173. Kaidan Alenko meets him and is determined to make Shepard fall in love with him, even if he has to do it every day.
Written as a fill for a prompt at the Mass Effect Kink Meme.
Feb. 10th, 2178
“He’s waking up, Admiral,” a woman’s voice swam through the thick drumming that obscured Shepard’s hearing. His vision was black and he could barely hear what was happening around him. He sensed his heartbeat rising and willed to himself to calm down. He tried to shake his head, but it felt too heavy to move. He couldn’t lift his arms or his legs. “Try not to move, Lieutenant,” the woman’s voice said and he felt a soft something flit over his arm. “Don’t try to talk either,” the voice said. His throat felt dry - as though he hadn’t had anything to drink in days. His mouth moved, he wanted to ask the stranger for water, but no sound came out. “You’ve been through an accident, you’re still healing. You can’t see because there’s a bandage over your eyes. I’m going to take it off now, so that you can see.” It took a moment for her to completely remover the wrap, but finally Admiral Anderson and the woman to whom the voice belonged came into blurry focus.
Admiral Anderson looked relieved, but the woman looked concerned. “We had you on a ventilator for a while, so your throat will feel dry. You can have some water, though.” She held a straw to his lips and he took a long drink, coughing and spluttering on the water. She wiped at his face with a tissue. “Try again,” she encouraged, “just not so much this time.” He took a small sip and tried to nod, but his head still wouldn’t seem to move. The woman set the cup down on a table and turned to leave the room. “Admiral, I’ll give you two some time.”
The door hissed shut behind her and Anderson walked over so that he was more visible in Shepard’s line of vision. “You must be wondering what happened,” he said, pulling up a small chair to sit on. He was next to where Shepard was laying, and Shepard could see the man’s hands move as he talked. “Well, somehow you escaped the Thresher Maw on Akuze - I don’t know how, so don’t even bother asking. You did however, sustain heavy damage. Your entire body was covered in Thresher acid and while your armor took the brunt of the assault, your skin is still burned. And somehow - I’m thinking you kept your visor open to communicate with the team - it got into your eyes. By some extra miracle, you weren’t blinded. You should have full mobility and vision within the next few days. Don’t worry about the paralysis - that from a drug that they gave you. You were thrashing around pretty good last night.”
Shepard hoped he was making a confused face. Thresher Maw? Akuze? He had no clue what Anderson was talking about. The last thing he remembered was talking to his father on the phone - he had plans to visit Shepard and congratulate him on his promotion and selection for the N7 program. He felt his heart begin to beat rapidly again and swallowed hard.
“Shepard? Lieutenant? Are you okay?” Anderson leaned forward as some machine in the room let out a menacing sound. Suddenly there was a rush of noise and Shepard’s senses were overloaded, but he was sure he felt something pinch him before the room went dark.
***
Feb. 13th, 2178
When Shepard woke, the room he was in - whatever room that was - was dark and cold. He pulled the blanket that rested on him up to his chin and tried to make out his surroundings. His memory was foggy - he couldn’t remember where he was or how he got there and that fact made him particularly suspicious. He could tell he was only wearing his underwear and though there was a window in the room, it was covered with blinds. There was a lot of machinery in the room and when he moved again, Shepard realized he was hooked up to a fair amount of it. “Hello?” he called out, against his better judgment. Depending on where he was, he might be calling out for someone who would only harm him, but clad in little clothing and with no weaponry to speak of, he felt he didn’t have much of a choice. When no one answered, he sat up quickly and his head began to spin nauseatingly. He dipped his head so that it hung over his lap and breathed deeply. For some reason, his throat felt sore and he was remarkably thirsty. There was a cup of something on a table across from him, but he decided that calling out for help was the biggest risk he was willing to take at the moment. “Hello?” he called out a little louder, his sore throat begging him to stop. “Is anyone there?”
The door to the room hissed open and suddenly a bright light came on. Shepard blinked at the pain in his eyes as a woman’s voice reprimanded him. “You really shouldn’t be yelling, it’s still only been a few days since we took you off the ventilator.”
He looked up, still blinking, but able to see the woman in front of him. She was in a lab coat and had a stethoscope around her neck. He hoped he was in a hospital and not one of those disturbing facsimiles of one. “Doctor?” he asked, whispering to bypass the pain of talking.
“No, I’m just your nurse. You must be thirsty, you’ve been out for another two days. Here.” She held out the cup and he took it, looking at her once more before desperation took over and his will cracked. He lifted it to his lips and took a tentative sip. It tasted like water. After letting it sit in his stomach for a few seconds and feeling no side effects, he took another sip and swallowed. “Better job this time,” she said, leaning against the table and crossing her arms. “How are you feeling?”
“Sorry,” he said, resting the cup on his knee. “This time?” He rubbed the back of his head and squinted at her. “Why have I been out for two days?”
“Don’t you remember?” she asked quietly, moving away from the table.
“Remember what?” He took another drink from the cup. The last thing he could remember was a phone conversation with his father. “Is everything okay? The last thing I remember is being at the academy. Talking to my father.”
“Oh.” She visibly blanched and moved to the door. “I’m going to get your doctor, okay?” She left him alone with his drink for a moment before the door opened. Along with the nurse was Admiral Anderson and a man that Shepard didn’t recognize but whom he assumed was his doctor. He nodded at Admiral Anderson and moved to raise his hand in a salute, but Anderson stopped him with a hand.
“Hello, Lieutenant. I’m Dr. May. I’ve been overseeing your case for the last month.” Luckily his cup was almost empty, because Shepard dropped it on the floor.
“Month?” he asked gruffly, not bothering with the cup as it slowly rolled across the tiled surface.
“Yes, Nurse Jackie said that you don’t remember the last time you woke up?”
“What are you all talking about? Can someone just tell me what’s going on?”
“Do you remember Akuze, Shepard?” Anderson asked quietly.
“Akuze?” He shook his head dumbly.
“Do you remember you father?”
“What about him?” Shepard asked. “The last thing I remember is talking to him. He was going to come and visit me - congratulate me on getting in the N7 program.”
Anderson shook his head ruefully. “Shepard…John, you finished the N7 program two years ago.”
“What?” he asked incredulously. “What do you mean?”
“Do you know what year it is?”
“Yeah, it’s Earth year ’73, isn’t it? August 10th.”
Anderson shook his head and looked imploringly at the doctor. “I’m sorry, Admiral,” the man said. “I was afraid something like this would happen.”
“Will somebody please just tell me what’s going on?” Shepard flexed his hand into a fist - he didn’t particularly appreciate being ignored, or the look of barely contained horror that covered Anderson’s face.
“John, it’s 2178. You’ve completed the N7 program. You and a team of marines went to Akuze and were attacked by a Thresher Maw. As far as we know, you’re the only one who made it out alive. We are missing one Corporal’s tags though,” he added as an afterthought.
“Seventy…eight?” Shepard rubbed his forehead. If Anderson hadn’t been there, he never would have believed it. But the man had always been there for him, supported him - Shepard often felt the man was more a father to him than his own. He knew that Anderson would never lie to him about something so serious. “What…what’s wrong with my memory?” he asked, turning to the doctor.
“We don’t know how to survived,” Dr. May said, “but you suffered extensive damage from the Thresher. Your entire body was covered in burns - most of which have healed. But the Thresher’s acid also managed to get into your eyes. Since we know very little about the acid, we didn’t know what it was going to do to you. Luckily, by some miracle of God, you can still see. But it seems that it has affected your memory. You’ve forgotten the last five years, and it also seems that your short term memory is non-existent. Your “slate” is wiped clean every night. I think.”
“You think?” Shepard looked at the nurse who was holding the cup so tightly her hands were white. Admiral Anderson’s jaw was clenched and he was intentionally not making eye contact with Shepard. “What do you mean, you think?”
“As I said, we know very little about the acid. You could get better soon, or you could wake up every day thinking that you’re going to see your father for lunch.”
“What was this you were saying about my dad?” Shepard asked, starting at the mention of his father.
“Shepard, I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you this, but he’s…dead. He was KIA.”
Shepard hung his head. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he muttered at his knees. “But I think I need some time alone to process this all.”
“Of course,” the doctor said. “Just call Jackie if you need anything.” Shepard waited until he heard the door hiss shut to lie back on the bed and close his eyes.
***
June 17th, 2178
Instead of his alarm clock waking him, the ping of a received message roused Shepard from his dream. The image was already fuzzy as he woke, but he knew that it had been a nightmare. He shook himself of the ridiculous vestiges of fear and pushed off of his bed, making his way toward his computer. A message from his father blinked on the computer screen and he opened it to reveal the body. “John - I won’t be able to make it to lunch today, but I’ll definitely be there tomorrow. Enjoy your weekend off and try to keep your apartment clean for when I get there.” As usual, there was no sign off or farewell. His father ended the message there. Shepard closed it and shook his head - it was so like his father to skip a chance to see his son. He would probably miss the lunch tomorrow too. He moved away from the desk and dropped to the floor to do some push ups - trying to think about something other than his selfish father as he did so.
After his workout and a shower, Shepard decided he would go to the diner and get lunch anyways - his father could pay for the food tomorrow. The walk to the diner was a short one - shorter than he remembered it being, but Shepard had never been one for directions, really - and soon he was scooting into a booth. A young woman came over to take his order, memorizing it without even taking it down. “Do you want a coffee?” she asked quietly, glancing over her shoulder.
“Sure,” he said, grinning up at her before closing the menu. A couple booths down, a man sat with his head ducked over a menu. His dark hair was combed back and Shepard was sure that he could see the blue of an Alliance uniform on the man’s shirt. The stranger glanced up for a moment and caught Shepard looking at him. When Shepard didn’t look away, the man offered him a small, slightly lopsided grin before looking back at his menu. The waitress brought Shepard his food and set it in front of him, clucking her tongue.
“Is this the place to be scoping out future dates?” she asked with a chuckle. “I thought you were just here for the food.”
Shepard smiled up at her good naturedly. “I’m pretty good at multi-tasking,” he said before picking up his burger. While he ate, he focussed on his food, organizing the French fries from tallest to shortest, stacking them in a log house formation - Shepard had always had an interesting aptitude for playing with his food. But he glanced up a few times, and every time he did, the Alliance stranger was staring at him. When he finally finished his meal, the waitress came over so that he could pay her and he moved out of the booth. Instead of heading for the door, though, he made his way over to the man - who was still eating his food. “Hey,” he offered his hand and a grin. The man wiped a hand on a napkin before taking Shepard’s hand and shaking it. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I noticed you’re wearing a uniform - you Alliance?”
“Yeah,” the stranger nodded. He had tanned skin and a slight five o’ clock shadow. Shepard’s eyes drifted up to the small bump in the man’s gelled hair. “Are you?” he asked, swallowing thickly. He had been in the middle of chewing something when Shepard walked over.
“Mhm. N7 - just inducted. My name’s Shepard. John.”
“Nice to meet you. You come here often?” The man gestured to the other side of the booth and Shepard slid in.
“Not too often, no. I was supposed to meet someone here today, but they bailed.”
“Looks like it’s my lucky day, then,” the stranger said with a quirk of his lips. “But I’m certainly sorry you’ve been stood up.” He picked at his salad with his fork and watched Shepard.
“It’s okay. It was just my father.” Shepard shifted in his seat. “I never caught your name?”
“Kaidan Alenko.”
“Do you come here often, Kaidan?”
Kaidan let out a breathy laugh and rubbed at his neck. “Uh…yeah, I guess that does sound silly now that you say it.” Shepard smiled genially. “But no. This is the first time I’ve ever been here. I was asked to deliver a package to the academy and I stopped for lunch.” Shepard’s omni-tool beeped and a red light blinked on his wrist alerting him to an urgent message on his home terminal.
“Shit, sorry, I’ve got to get this. Do you ever think you’ll be back in this neck of the woods?”
“I might be here…for lunch, on say…Tuesday?” Kaidan set his fork down and moved to stand.
“Well, then I might be here, too.” Shepard gestured for Kaidan to stay sitting. “Really gotta run though, it was nice meeting you.” He turned and rushed out of the diner just before the waitress came up to talk to Kaidan.
June 20th, 2178
Shepard was not in a good mood. He wasn’t even sure he should be going to the diner - a place where he would have to be around people and behave in a civil manner. What he really wanted to was find something good and malleable to pummel. He was so tired of his father’s shit - saying he couldn’t make it for lunch this and he couldn’t travel right now that. Why didn’t he just admit that he didn’t care about his son at all? Shepard vocalized a short burst of anger and punched his own palm. It would make life a lot easier for them all if his father would just disappear. But no. He wanted everyone to know who his son was and what he did. How could he even pretend to have a relationship with him?
Arriving at the entrance to the diner in a huff, Shepard let out a long breath before pulling the door open. The waitress didn’t deserve an angry customer just because his father didn’t have any manners. A young woman - Beth, her name tag said - showed him to a booth. “What can I get for you today?” she asked as he opened the menu.
“Sorry,” he sighed, “I’m going to need a bit of time to choose.”
“Bad day?” Beth asked sympathetically, resting a hand on the table.
“You could say that,” he said, as he decided on a steak sandwich. “I’ll have the number four.”
“Good choice,” she grinned, taking the menu from him. “Want a coffee?”
“Yes please.”
“Sorry about your day, hon,” she offered, sauntering away.
“Me, too,” he moaned, resting his face on his fist. The anger slowly drained from his body and left him feeling empty and exhausted - aggression was a tiring thing. He picked at a dark spot on the table and didn’t notice when a body entered the booth across from him.
“Hey,” a low voice startled him from his thoughts. He looked up to see a young man, about his age, sitting across from him. His hair was gelled back and he was wearing an Alliance uniform.
“Sorry, do I know you?” Shepard asked, narrowing his eyes. He wasn’t particularly in the mood to entertain barely recognizable acquaintances. He dropped his hand and studied the man in front of him, trying to place the face somewhere in his memory.
“Uh…”the man looked around, “I thought you did. John Shepard, right?”
“That’s me. Look, I’m sorry, but I’m not really in the best of moods today. I don’t know where I know you from-“
“Is this some kind of game?” the man asked.
“Is what some kind of game? Am I supposed to know why you’re here?”
“Well I thought that -“ The waitress cut him off by setting down a cup of coffee. She placed it so firmly on the table that some of the dark liquid spilled over. After wiping her hand on her apron, she gripped Kaidan’s bicep and pulled.
“Why don’t you come with me, sir? I can find you your own table.” Shepard watched her cart the soldier away, and he could see the man struggling but didn’t care to listen to their conversation. He morosely poured a packet of sucrose into his coffee and groaned. It was going to be a long weekend.
June 21st, 2178
After lunch, Shepard decided to go to the park. It was close to his apartment and it would give him a chance to relax in the sunshine. He found an empty bench and sat down, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against the hard surface of the bench. He let his eyelids droop and reveled in the soft heat of the sun, the quiet din of children playing and dogs barking and people laughing. He did notice, though, when a body sat down next to him. It was a free world - for most people - and the bench was big enough for two people to sit comfortably far apart. Even though he knew there were many other empty benches in the park, Shepard wasn’t concerned enough about his bench mate to open his eyes.
“John,” a voice said after the body had been there for a few moments. It was deep and unfamiliar and Shepard sat forward, opening his eyes, at once.
“How do you know my name?” he asked. He tried to sound uninterested, but he knew that snapping out of his previous pose had probably already given him away.
“You’re a popular guy,” the man next to him said. He turned so that his torso was facing Shepard. “My name’s Kaidan Alenko. I’m Alliance, too, and I was hoping I could get some advice from you? I heard you’re N7 and some of my friends say you’re the best.”
“Alenko, huh?” Shepard leaned further forward and saw that Kaidan was wearing an Alliance t-shirt under his jacket. “I’ve only just been invited into the N7 program,” he said, holding out his hand to shake Kaidan’s.
“Regardless,” Kaidan shrugged, “They say you’re the best. Can I take you for lunch and get some tips?”
“I just ate,” Shepard said, glancing at his watch. “But it’s five o’ clock on the Citadel. Want to take me for a drink?” Kaidan laughed deep and low, the sound was beautiful and Shepard couldn’t help chuckling with him, even though it wasn’t that funny.
“Sure, I’ll take you for a drink. Know anywhere good?”
The two of them ended up a quiet pub around the corner from the diner - it would be busier in a couple hours, but not everyone knew Citadel time like Shepard did. They sat at a table in the corner and both nursed whiskeys while trading stories.
“Well I’m a biotic,” Kaidan said, waving at the bartender to get his glass refilled, “so I wanted to do something useful with myself, you know? I didn’t want to end up just doing lines of red sand off a toilet somewhere.”
“A biotic?” Shepard asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Is that a problem? I know it makes some people…uncomfortable.”
“To say the least,” Shepard commiserated. “No, not a problem at all. I just never would have guessed. You don’t have a scar.” He tapped the back of his neck before draining his glass as well.
“I’m an L2. Smaller implant, smaller scar. It’s under my hair,” Kaidan said.
A moment of silence filtered between them before Shepard leaned forward on the table. He wasn’t drunk, but he had enough of a buzz to be more straightforward than he had a right to be - only having known this man for a few hours. “Can I ask you a question?” he muttered. Kaidan nodded and held up his glass as it was refilled. “Do you ever wish that you weren’t?”
The man seemed to mull the question over in his mind for a moment. He took a sip of his drink and squinted, moving his head from side to side. “That’s a hard one,” he finally answered. “I think I used to, a lot. When I was at Brain Camp, I sure did. And when the migraines hit - they’re a side effect of the implant - I certainly wish the pain would go away. But, I guess now, I’ve joined the Alliance and I’ve really got a chance to do something good. I didn’t choose to be this way, but I can make myself worthwhile, you know?”
“Sure,” Shepard said, leaning back in his chair. “I know.”
It was still sunny outside when they left the bar and Shepard shaded his eyes with a hand. “Jesus, you never know what the weather will be like, do you?” he asked, turning to Kaidan as the man shrugged into his jacket. He shook his head and looked at his omni-tool.
“I should be going,” he said quietly.
“Yeah, me too. It was…nice meeting you. I had a good time. Could we…hang out again sometime?” Shepard asked.
Kaidan winced at something and turned his omni-tool off. “Sure, I’d like that. Why don’t you give me your contact?”
June 25th, 2178
When Shepard looked out the window, he could see it was a mildly overcast day outside - perfect weather for a jog and a late breakfast at the diner around the corner. He rubbed his forehead and contemplated checking the message on his terminal. There wasn’t really a point though - he knew what it said. He might not know the specifics, but he knew it would be a message from his father detailing why the man wouldn’t be able to make it to lunch. In the end, he just threw on a pair of sweats and t-shirt and left the apartment without bothering to check the message. If it was something particularly urgent, the sender could contact him via his omni-tool. It may have been his day off, Shepard thought as his feet hit the pavement, but good soldiers don’t stop just because they’ve clocked out for the day.
He huffed out a heavy breath and made his way to the park. There weren’t very many people there - a few other runners and early morning commuters making their way to their respective jobs. Most people, though, wouldn’t want to go for a stroll in the chilly air and were probably driving to work. He found his mind wandering while he jogged, considering what the N7 program might be like. He wondered who he would be working with - if he would know any of the other recruits or if he would be on his own. Shepard liked other people but he also knew that he would be more likely to focus on the training if he was alone - he had a tendency to worry too much about other people’s problems and let them drag him down with them. He stopped by a tree to lean against it and catch his breath, bending over a little at the waist and wiping his forehead on his t-shirt.
Suddenly he was struck by a barrage of images and emotions that him doubling over before falling to his knees. Someone shooting a gun, loud screams and shrieks, and a massive creature darkening the sky as he ran - ran as fast as he could. He dropped his face into his hands when there was an extreme, searing pain in his head and tried to keep from making any noise. When the pain began to ebb and the images faded, Shepard pulled back and was shocked to see blood pooling in his hands. “What the…?”
“Hey, mister, are you okay?” A young asari was walking with her mothers to school but had stopped in front of where Shepard was kneeling. “Mom, is he going to be okay?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” her mom said before letting go of the girl’s hand. “Is there anyone we can contact for you sir?” she asked, crouching by Shepard. “Should we call the hospital?”
Shepard grunted and stood, but still leaned against the tree as his head spun. He wiped his hands on his pants and winced when his head throbbed. “No,” he murmured, then louder, “No, thank you. I should be fine now.” The trio left him where he stood, using the back of his hand to wipe the excess blood from his face. Once he felt well enough to return home, Shepard decided against breakfast. His head was still aching and he felt like he could use a lie down. He set off on the path back towards his apartment and in his haste to get home, ran into a body. “Ugh,” he groaned. “Sorry, wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” the stranger said quietly, pulling back with a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “You don’t look very well, do you need some help?”
“No,” Shepard shook his head. Bad idea. The world around him began to spin and a wave of nausea washed over him. He unconsciously put a hand out to steady himself against the stranger.
“My name’s Kaidan,” the stranger said. “Let me at least walk you home. Do you live close to here?”
“Yeah,” Shepard murmured. Talking only seemed to make the spinning worse. Kaidan helped support him and they started in the general direction of his apartment. Other than giving Kaidan directions to the building, conversation between the two of them was non-existent: Shepard’s head hurt too much to talk and Kaidan didn’t seem to be a talker.
When Shepard got out of bed hours later, he knew that he hadn’t really slept. It had been more a fitful tossing and turning waiting for the pain to go away. In the end, it had faded somewhat, but there was still a soreness that throbbed whenever he moved too fast, or too much. The stranger, Kaidan - he reminded himself - was sitting on his couch when he left his bedroom. He was still in the bloody t-shirt, but his sweats had been forgone for a pair of shorts. “Hey,” Shepard offered as he went to fill a glass of water. “Um…thanks for helping me, and I don’t mean to be rude…but why are you still here?” he raised an eyebrow at Kaidan before draining the glass in one drink.
Kaidan chuckled quietly. “Sorry if I overstayed my welcome, but you were pretty messed up. I wouldn’t have felt right just leaving you alone here - you don’t seem to have anyone to take care of you.” The man rose off of the couch and stepped towards the kitchen. Shepard stiffened slightly but the man just laughed again. “If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done it while you were incapacitated, right?” He crossed his arms and nodded. “I called in to work today to say I would be late, and it ends up we answer to the same higher power.” Shepard cocked his head slightly. “Admiral Anderson? He told me that you’re John Shepard.”
Shepard nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. Thanks again for your help. And for staying to make sure I was okay. But…you don’t have to stay anymore.” He refilled his glass. “I’m sure that you have work to do.”