Disclaimer: The characters and universe of Mass Effect belong to Bioware. Only flattery is intended.
The pain was the first thing that seeped in, penetrating the envelope of her unconsciousness with dull insistence. A flush of mundane sensations followed— the subtle weight of the sheets, air moving through her nostrils, faint nausea and a crackling dryness in her throat.
Then all at once, the world reasserted itself like the aftermath of a flashbang grenade, all faint, indiscernible sounds and encroaching brightness. It was hard to gauge how long her curiosity grappled with inertia until at last, in what felt like an act of singular ambition, she raised her eyelids.
The sight that greeted her was familiar.
She tried to speak, but the words faltered. Still, they managed to draw the object of her attention over, to bring an ear down close to her lips.
"Miss Lawson," her own voice sounded distant, "are we really doing this again?"
The figure shifted, and Shepard felt the tiniest of kisses fall on the shell of her ear.
"I can assure you Shepard, this will be the last time."
She heard the words loud and clear, but she'd only grasped them in her mind a moment when they began to get fuzzy around the edges.
Then her eyes fell shut, and the light and the woman were gone. The other sensations all dulled in their turn— the subtle weight of fingers against her palm, breath grazing her cheek, a faint warmth in her chest and a contented sigh that nonetheless crackled all the way up her raw throat.
And last of all, the pain.
When she awoke, much of the pain was gone, along with something else she distinctly remembered from her last bout of consciousness.
"Was Miranda here?" Shepard asked, wincing at the hoarseness in her own voice.
Dr. Chakwas turned, clucking as she set down the datapad she'd been reviewing. She was fully intent on chiding the commander for her brusqueness, but something in Shepard's expression made her response come out gentler than she'd intended.
"Miranda had some business to see to today, but she was in yesterday, and last week when you briefly regained consciousness."
She is alive.
Chakwas watched the subtext sink in, watched Shepard bury her face in shaky hands before turning to give her patient a moment of privacy. And as she poured out two cups of water, she reflected on how similar the reaction might have been, given the alternative.
It just didn't feel right anymore to make such declarations outright, not with life finally retaking its proper place as the status quo. And yet, for Shepard, who'd blacked out in the midst of a disintegrating world and opened her eyes to a new one...
Chakwas shook her head. She had hoped this particular topic of conversation could wait. At the very least there should have been something stronger than water to pour. Still, there was no sense in delaying. That old world was gone forever, as it was destined to be, in victory or in death.
She handed Shepard a cup, pulling a chair up to the bed, "We don't need to get into what happened on the crucible, but you should know that whatever it was activated a pulse that traveled through the relay network to every corner of the galaxy, wiping out all forms of machine intelligence, friend and foe alike."
"Just like the kid said," Shepard murmured, gaze distantly fixed on the ceiling above.
Chakwas cleared her throat, and she was pleased to see Shepard's eyes dart back to her, their usual focus restored even if her countenance remained grim.
"There has been a monumental effort to reverse the damage. A number of the scientists you recruited for the crucible have stayed on board to tackle the problem, and Tali is cashing in all the goodwill the geth generated in the final months of the war. Even Miranda has been scouring Cerberus records for anything that might help."
"How's Joker?" Shepard asked in a dull tone.
The line of Chakwas' mouth thinned, "He was devastated, of course. I think it will do him a lot of good to see you back on your feet. Even now, hope remains a precious commodity."
Shepard's brow furrowed, and she glanced away. Chakwas took a deep breath.
"Admiral Anderson is dead," she added softly, "Reconstruction has put nearly everything on hold, but there is a memorial service scheduled for next week. I hesitate to get your hopes up, but Alliance Brass is rather hoping you might attend."
"And?"
"And you might," Chakwas replied evenly, "With your cybernetics functional again the rest of your recovery should be a snap, but I am wary of letting anyone set you back, yourself included. Every single one of your implants needed some form of intervention and that added up to a lot of procedures. Half the time I wondered if Adams or Tali would have been better-suited to the task. Needless to say, Miranda's contribution has been vital."
"It sounds like you had to revive the Lazarus Project," Shepard remarked.
"Well…yes and no," Chakwas crossed her legs and tapped her cup thoughtfully, "The central problem of the Lazarus Project was irrelevant given that you weren't dead. That said, we did have to reopen the book on practically every other aspect of it."
She adopted a wry smile, "Incidentally, I should warn you that Lazarus is not the reanimated biblical figure most people are comparing you to these days."
Shepard, who had just raised her cup to her lips, paused long enough to frown, and the doctor chuckled, giving her arm a reassuring pat, "I'd watch those sour expressions if I were you. Your water is going to go straight past wine and turn to vinegar if you aren't careful."
Downing the rest of the drink in one gulp, Shepard absently crumpled the cup. "There's something I still don't understand. You talk about these developments like they're well under way. Project Lazarus itself took two years. Even without needing to revive me…" She seemed to be trying to perform calculations in her head, but eventually decided to try the direct approach, "How long have I been out?"
"Today is May 18th. The Battle for Earth happened nine months ago."
"Shepard…"
The voice was soft, its tone a familiar mix of fondness and rebuke cloaked in an Australian accent. Shepard felt fingers sliding through her hair, nails gently grazing her scalp.
"Dr. Chakwas tells me you've been awake all morning, and you choose now of all times to be bloody unconscious-"
"Not bloody or unconscious, thanks to you both."
Shepard opened her eyes and instantly regretted it, blinking to temper the unrelenting light. The regret was fleeting however, because in the next moment her pupils adjusted and there was Miranda, with one of those rare transparent expressions on her face. It was not to be missed.
"You know," Shepard teased, "just because my eyes are closed doesn't mean I can't hear. I'm not dead to the world."
An unexpected fragility flickered across Miranda's features, and Shepard instantly regretted her choice of words.
"No," Miranda replied, speaking softly, almost carefully, "but it was a near thing."
There was a moment of silence, then Shepard reached up and entwined their fingers, urging the other woman to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Looks like I dropped the ball on finding you… Glad you found me instead," she ventured.
"Actually, it was Grunt who found you," Miranda corrected with a small smile, "The krogan were first on the scene after the Citadel came down. While everyone else was still trying to catch their breath, Clan Urdnot was sifting through rubble looking for you. According to the report I read, our little tank-bred hauled most of a storefront off of you when the machine the Alliance was sending didn't come fast enough."
"A storefront?" Shepard's chuckle was punctuated by a cough, "That explains the headache nine months later."
Miranda took the hint and the hand that hadn't been captured resumed its gentle counterassault on every nerve ending in Shepard's scalp, fingers winding their way absently through the red locks.
"You were badly injured in nearly every way possible— trauma to put the injuries that killed you to shame…" she was frowning now, a grim look borne of knowing the truth behind her words in too much intricate detail, "And your cybernetics were making themselves as much a liability as a lifeline. Grunt had to carry you to the nearest field hospital because the roads were still so treacherous."
"That's my boy," Shepard's face filled with pride, "Hey, do you know if any of the natural history museums have reopened?"
The frown eased. Miranda's eyebrow quirked.
"I promised I'd take him to see dinosaurs after the war ended."
That earned her a very honest laugh, the kind she was always trying to coax out, but which only ever seemed to sneak up on her. She decided she liked it that way. Something to take her by surprise now that all the husks and phantoms were gone.
"For a 'pure krogan' and his battlemaster, the two of you certainly are domestic at times," Miranda mused.
A coy expression settled on Shepard's face, "You know, people sometimes say that about me and my ex-Cerberus girlfriend..."
Just then, the sound of voices nearby caught her attention and she glimpsed movement over Miranda's shoulder, squinting to make out the familiar silhouettes conversing beyond the frosted window.
"I know that's Dr. Chakwas, but could that big lug she's talking to be James?"
Miranda glanced over her shoulder, "Lieutenant Vega, yes. They weren't going to let me into the hospital until Dr. Chakwas told the Admiralty Board in no uncertain terms that you'd be dead before their next meeting if they didn't budge. Lt. Vega volunteered to be the compromise. He's here to make sure I stay on my best behavior."
"Is he staying on his best behavior?" Shepard asked, raising a brow.
"Don't worry, I know how to handle his type," Miranda replied knowingly, a sly smile crossing her features, "Besides, he's positively infatuated with some woman named Lola."
"Hey Lola."
James chose that exact moment to come striding into the room. Shepard resisted the urge to snicker as realization swept the smile off Miranda's face. She did regret that the other woman's hands had fallen away the instant the doors had swished open.
"James," she said fondly, shifting in her bed to see him better, "Looks like those precious muscles of yours got you through after all."
He grinned, "Yes ma'am, but then again I wasn't the one wrestling reapers. Heard you were in pretty bad shape when they found you."
Shepard shrugged, "You should've seen the other guy."
"Yeah, the way Grunt tells it, the other guy was a store," James replied with a chuckle, "News keeps sayin' it was your favorite store on the Citadel too. Kind of a crazy coincidence, no?"
"Uh, yeah..." Shepard coughed, "What are the odds…"
She pretended not to catch Miranda's eye roll in her peripheral vision.
"Come to think of it," she continued, "I seem to recall you flying headfirst into one of those fancy red London phone booths. Well, it was either you or a brute… memory's a bit fuzzy."
"Ouch, Lola, please. A brute? Me? I'm more like a cuddly little ravager," he replied, ruffling his mohawk and adopting a disarming expression.
"Uh-huh," Shepard crossed her arms, "And they've got you on guard duty again, I see. Surprised they haven't promoted you— who lost that paperwork?"
"They'll get around to it eventually," James replied, "they were probably just waitin' to see if you'd pull through or not… you know, before giving me command of the Normandy."
Shepard raised a brow, "You know you'd have to fight Kaidan for it."
James snorted, "I seem to remember a certain someone stickin' up for this guy in the old 'muscles vs. biotics' debate. Besides, Alenko's stuck doing all the ceremonial crap they couldn't get you for. Watching Sheila over here's way better than that."
He shot Miranda a smile, earning an eye roll of his own.
"Sheila?" Shepard glanced between the two of them, "Very good James, you do know a thing or two about Australian stereotypes. I'm warning you now though— look, but don't touch. Honestly, try not to let me catch you looking, either."
"That an order, ma'am?" he asked, tone impudent.
"It is, and not the first time I've given it to you either."
"Ain't that the truth," James replied, laughing so that it shook his whole frame. It was then that he noticed Shepard's arm had encircled the other woman's waist, and his laughter ceased. He stared a moment, incredulously.
"Dios- you've got to be kidding me!"
He checked again, but sure enough Shepard's hold remained, her hand resting comfortably yet declaratively on the other woman's hip. And this was that ex-Cerberus chick who'd been with them when they'd taken out the collectors, which meant...
"Joker knew about this! And Garrus, and probably Tali too," his mind was racing, "No way in hell Liara doesn't know-"
"If it makes you feel any better," Shepard interrupted, "I'm pretty sure Kaidan is oblivious."
At just that moment, the doors swished open to reveal Dr. Chakwas.
"You knew too, didn't you doc?!" James exclaimed, fixing her with an accusatory look.
Chakwas frowned, "James, I haven't the slightest idea what you could be talking about, but please try to keep your voice down. This is a recovery ward, not a schoolyard."
The large marine crossed his arms sulkily and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Shepard, as Chakwas fussed with some of the settings on the nearby machinery. At length, he turned.
"So…I guess this means no more matching tattoos?" he asked, pouting slightly.
Shepard's smile was broad, "Not at all, James. Just leave room for Miranda's name next to yours."
"No hay problema! It's a good thing Sheila's only six letters…"
"Not a chance," Miranda cut in without missing a beat, "I put far too many hours of my life into that skin to let you graffiti it, and besides, if I wanted someone with tattoos, there were plenty of people encouraging me to make a pass at Jack, yourself included, Shepard."
"If this is about the party, let me just point out that by that time I'd had about three too many and I was encouraging lots of people to kiss," Shepard protested, "Some of whom are obliged to follow my orders."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Everybody just cool it, okay?" James interrupted, "I'm still getting used to the idea of you two…together…like that…no need to give a man a heart attack."
"Is that what all that shouting was about?" Chakwas asked, coming over to do some omni-tool readings, "Really, James..."
"I know, I know. Just gonna have to redouble my efforts with Traynor, I guess," he replied, giving Shepard a wink.
"Perhaps the two of you can bond over your broken hearts," Chakwas added dryly.
"This would be Samantha Traynor, your comm specialist?" Miranda shook her head and sighed, "Honestly, Shepard, how do you always find yourself in these situations?"
"What can I say? I have a thing for exotic accents," Shepard replied, earning a sidelong look that was meant to be chastising but which she chose to take as encouragement, "Why just this morning Dr. Chakwas was doing an incredibly distracting job of reading a bulletin on the hospital's new handwashing policy…"
That earned her a nip in the side from Miranda's biotics, and a reproving glance from Chakwas.
"Don't you dare drag me into this Jane Shepard. If you were distracted at the time, it was because you spent all morning trying to come up with inventive new ways to circumvent the hospital's no-pets policy. Now if you'll please relinquish Miranda there are a few things I'd like to go over with her."
Miranda gave the hand at her hip a squeeze before gently extricating herself from the hold and moving over to join Dr. Chakwas by the machines.
Shepard watched them a moment, hoping to get some insight into their exchange, but they spoke softly, their bodies obscuring the screen they were reviewing. What she did not fail to note was the slump in their shoulders, so slight as to be virtually unnoticeable save on the frame of the two most perfectly-postured people she knew. Not for the first time, she got the feeling her recovery had come at the cost of a lot of sleepless nights for both of them.
"So," James began conspiratorially, interrupting her thoughts, "Does she have a sister?"
Shepard sighed and gave him a stern look, "You were with me at Sanctuary, James. You know she has a sister. You also know what she does to people who mess with her sister."
"Yeah, but-"
"Let it go, Lieutenant."
"Okay, okay, next question. Does Scars know?"
Shepard laughed, "Sorry to say, but Garrus pretty much knew before I did."
"What about Javik?"
"Knows there's someone. Don't think he knows Miranda though."
"Esteban?"
"No, though I imagine he soon will…"
"Grunt?"
"Oh yeah. Practically already calls her mommy."
James chuckled and shook his head, and then, just like that, his face turned serious. He glanced up to make sure Miranda and Chakwas were distracted and scooted closer to Shepard.
"Does Hackett know?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow and cocked her head, "Why should Hackett know?"
The large marine shifted uncomfortably, lowering his voice, "I dunno Commander, you know I'm no good at this political stuff. It's just now that the war's over, and they're seeing the real size of this thing… Well, there's lots of blame getting thrown around, and Sheila here's kinda on the wrong side of history."
"So was I," Shepard replied, eyes narrowing.
"I know, I know," James raised his arms defensively, "But you're Shepard, and shit wouldn't stick to you even if anyone wanted to throw it. Sheila's in a bit of a tougher spot. She-"
"That's enough, Lieutenant." They both glanced up to see Miranda. The look she was giving James made him shut up, quickly.
"Right now Shepard needs to focus on recovering. We can worry about the rest later," Chakwas affirmed, coming up beside her.
"Yeah, well, we should probably get goin' anyway..." James pushed up off the bed, avoiding his Commander's penetrating gaze even as he shied away from Miranda's. He was pretty sure there was an old saying for times like this, something about a rock and a hard place...
"Get some sleep, Shepard. I'll come back and see you again when I can," Miranda said softly, moving back to the side of the bed. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the other woman's forehead, thumb skimming over the pink line of a scar on her cheek.
Shepard managed enough leverage to push up slightly, finding Miranda's lips with hers. She felt the palm curve around her jaw, dark hair falling around her face like a curtain.
After a long moment Miranda pulled away, and for the second time since she'd woken, Shepard caught that brief flash of fragility in the other woman's eyes. Her brows drew together, almost unconsciously, and she felt the thumb leave her cheek to smooth them.
"Don't worry, just sleep," Miranda impressed, "We need to get you out of this hospital. Ori keeps asking how much longer it's going to be before she'll be able to see you."
"Lots of people askin' that question," James muttered.
"And they can all be patient just a little longer," Chakwas replied, in the very tone Shepard suspected had kept the 'well-wishers' at bay.
She watched them go, Miranda shooting one final smile over her shoulder that smacked more of her usual confidence than the rest of her visit altogether. James managed to ask where his goodbye kiss was before Chakwas shoved him out after her.
Eventually even Chakwas left, admonishing Shepard, just as Miranda had, to stop thinking so hard about things and get some sleep.
Eventually, she did.
a/n- Thanks for reading. Writing the postwar fic seems to be a rite of passage for us ME fans, our chance to celebrate everything we loved and furiously deny everything we didn't. This is my stab at that, and more than anything I hope my affection for these characters and this universe show through. Next chapter should be up soon.
-JP
