Kaidan hates his sleep shift. He takes all the extra hours he can aboard the new Alliance frigate to avoid the sleeper pods. Keeping busy doesn't help the numbness, it doesn't help him adjust to a ship that isn't the Normandy, but it's still better than the alternative.
When he closes his eyes... when he's alone in the dark... panic sets in. It's like the darkness sucks all the oxygen out of the pod and he knows this is how she must have felt in those last few minutes - alone and cold, suffocating in space. He remembers the Normandy evacuation checking the survivors against the crew roster as soon as he touched down. He knew she'd want that information the second she landed. He remembers Joker, white faced and shaking as he climbed out of the escape pod alone. He'd known as soon as he saw his face. Even for her helmsman, losing the Normandy wasn't as painful as knowing that Shepard was gone. Gone trying to save his stubborn ass.
He can't forgive Joker. He can't forgive himself.