I Remember Ilos
Shepard frowned. She hated this door. She knew Cerberus had put Miranda's office where her old room had been on purpose. It was just another subtle reminder of how they owned her… how they'd changed her life. She smacked on the holo and the door slid open.
"Shepard, something I can do for you?" Miranda glanced up from where she was typing away at her terminal. Likely filing mission reports to the Illusive Man about everything, from how they'd done on Horizon, to how often she did her rounds, to how many times she rolled her bad shoulder.
"Miranda, now that we've finally got a minute, we need to talk." Shepard threw herself down in the chair across from the Cerberus operative and put her elbows on her knees, then rested her chin on her folded hands in her 'this is serious' pose.
Miranda's eyes flicked away from her, as they did every time Shepard tried to force a real conversation out of her. "There's a lot of work to do, Shepard, maybe another time?"
"The paperwork can keep." Shepard glared at her, "We need to talk, and we're going to."
Miranda met her glare and raised her a frown. "What would you like to discuss, Commander?"
"You claimed Cerberus brought me back just the way I was. Or tried." Miranda bristled, curling her hands through her holographic keyboard. "A lot of my memories are hazy. But before I died, I had to be sandblasted to even tip over a glass of water. Now, I charge half-way across the field before I even realize I've moved," She waved her hand through the air, and it shimmered with a well of biotic energy to prove her point. She continued, "It's damned unnerving, and I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be a biotic, because I never was before."
Miranda looked at her then quickly looked away. Shepard had tried to force an explanation out of her ever since she'd woken up in the Cerberus lab, and Miranda had evaded her question every single time. She leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees. She wasn't leaving without an answer.
"You're right Shepard…" Miranda sighed finally, and took a deep breath, staring at her compassionately. Compassionately? "You weren't a biotic… but your daughter was."
"My-my what…?" Shepard blinked, falling backwards into the chair.
"The Lazarus Project shouldn't have taken two years," Miranda pushed herself up out of her chair, and came around to stand in front of her. She leaned back against the table, staring down at Shepard. If she was trying to be reassuring, she was failing miserably. "But we had two subjects, three if you count Jeffrey, which I don't."
"You were pregnant when you died, Shepard. Two months in, if I had to guess." She ticked it off on her fingernails disinterestedly, "Your body was… ruined. We didn't even know until we started cloning tissue, but the genetic material we first used wasn't yours, it was hers. When we realized what we'd done, it was too late. Your body took hold of the genetic data, and spread eezo nodules throughout your nervous system. It's why your memories are hazy at times, and why you're a biotic when you never should have been."
"… I was pregnant?" Shepard repeated incredulously.
"I'm sorry, Commander," Miranda shrugged, as if she didn't know what more to say. Or didn't care enough to think of more.
Shepard stood up, feeling shaky on her own two feet. Miranda took a step back, then reached out as if to steady her. Shepard leapt back from the hand as if it was poisonous. "That will be all, Lawson." She snapped, then quickly turned on her heel and stormed from the room.
Shepard fled to the elevator, struggling to maintain her Commanding Officer composure in front of her crew. She smacked the call button, ran her hands through her hair, and then smacked it again. The best technology in the galaxy, and she still had to wait on the fucking elevator.
The elevator arrived, and the doors slid open to reveal Jacob staring at a datapad. "Commander! Good to see-"
"Get out!" Shepard screamed, forcing her way into the elevator and shoving him out. "Get out!" Jacob stumbled over the threshold, bewildered, and turned to face her, mouth open to question her hysteria, when the door shut in his face.
Shepard slid to the floor, and smacked the hologram for the captain's quarters. She didn't trust herself to speak. She took great, gulping breaths of air, trying to calm down. She didn't cry. Soldiers didn't cry. Edi was mercifully silent as she stumbled blindly into her room, and even had the good graces to lock the door for her.
She fell down onto into the chair before her terminal, not making it to the bed. She felt sick. She wanted to throw up and never stop. His letter was still open on her terminal; his words still rang in her head, his picture still on her desk… his child still dead in a lab.
How could she face him again now? He thought she'd betrayed him once. How would he react to this? How could she react to this?
She ran her hands through her hair and turned to look at his picture on her desk. Would she have had had his eyes? His hair color? What would her name have been? Do you remember the night before Ilos, he'd asked…
Shepard smacked his picture face down, and buried her face in her hands.
How could she forget?