Miranda Lawson paused outside of the Commander's quarters, the sudden hesitation swelling in her an uncomfortable and unfamiliar feeling. She had spent the last two years with Shepard's body, knew practically every cell inside and out. But the living, breathing woman she was finding was much more than the sum of her parts.
A stranger. An enigma. A puzzle she could no longer figure out with tests and probes. Despite all of her many talents, she found the Commander's behaviors increasingly frustrating to attempt to predict or decipher. Shepard was proving to be a confounding mixture of devout soldier, strong and determined, and sensitive soul, genuine and caring. The latter Miranda had always considered a weakness and therefor had a hard time reconciling how the woman could be so dichotomous and still so effective. Of course she knew of the tales of loyalty, heroics, and selflessness from the Commander's past but experiencing it first hand had her off kilter.
Perhaps that is what had led her to divulge secrets she carried so close and careful not even the Illusive Man could find them. And she'd not only disclosed them to Shepard but asked for her help. Miranda Lawson never asked for help. Never needed it.
What had begun as the very clear mission of finding and defeating the Collectors had become so complicated. She'd expected the Commander to focus on the mission. Expected it to leave no time for the emotional pitfalls of past relationships. And it had. At least until Illium. Until Liara.
As fearless and undeniable as Commander Shepard was on the battlefield, one lone Asari armed only with the past had managed to wound her deeply. Shepard had retreated with barely a word once they departed Illium's spaceport and had not reappeared from her quarters in some time. Miranda tried to convince herself to give the Commander time. That she of all people should not interfere given the emotional pitfalls. But here she was, standing outside of the Commander's quarters.
Her brow furrowed and she attempted to calm the whirlwind of conflicting messages between her brain and her body. Finally she mumbled, "Bloody hell," squared her shoulders, schooled her expression and pressed the com announcing her presence outside of the door.
After what seemed an interminable pause, the door slide open silently.
Miranda scanned the dim interior, sensing no movement, hearing no sounds other than the contestant bubbling of the fish tank. She took a step across the threshold.
"Commander?" her voice grating against the quiet, even to her own ears.
She was drawn further into the room by the soft clink of ice against glass. She found Shepard standing by the table on the lower level of her quarters, a soft blue holographic orb the only thing lighting the sharp angles of her face. She didn't look at Miranda as she approached, her eyes appearing weary but focused on the rotating planet hovering in front of her. On the table's surface was a bottle of exotic liquor and a glass, now half filled with ice and the amber liquid. Shepard pushed the glass towards Miranda, her eyes still drifting over the icy contours of the orb before her.
Miranda studied her in the low light. Her mouth was tight, her piercing blue eyes looking but not seeing the planet's surface. Without a word exchanged Miranda could feel the extent of the Commander's pain. Not for the first time did she wonder how disorienting it must be to loose two years of your life. To find that the universe and the people in it you hold dear have moved on without you. How insignificant you might feel.
"Alchera," Shepard's low voice vibrated clearly in the room, drawing Miranda's attention back to the present. She shifted her gaze to the planet rotating between them. It was small with an azure cast, the surface riddled with frozen peaks and sharp edged canyons.
Alchera. Miranda felt a coldness creep into her chest.
"I thought I would feel something when I looked at the place I died." Her brow furrowed, her gaze still unfocused, "Like there should be some connection… or…" she paused searching for words undefined, "…or something familiar. Recognition in your cells. Something." Finally her eyes drifted up and fixed on Miranda across the dim glow. "Do you know what I feel when I look here?"
Miranda couldn't find her voice, at once captured and haunted by the look in Shepard's gaze. She shook her head.
Shepard's lips tilted ever so slightly into a grim smile. "I don't feel anything," she said, her gaze going back to the planet. "I was there," she lifted her hand, pointing at the surface, "Lying there on the surface of that planet." Her eyes came up again, glowing in the light from the orb, "Dead."
Miranda felt an echo in her chest of the hollowness in Shepard's eyes. She was not usually one to feel empathy. Not used to feeling compassion. Perhaps it was because she'd spent the last two years making it possible for her to live again. Perhaps it was because she remembered clearly the haunted, pained eyes of an Asari as she handed over the corpse of her lover. Miranda had been calculated then. Detatched. But looking back, she could now understand the depth of anguish in those alien eyes. For a moment the thought drifted into her mind, 'what if I lost Shepard now?' She suppressed a shiver.
"Shepard," she began quietly, "I know seeing Liara was…"
"I want to go there," Shepard interrupted, taking the glass she had offered Miranda for herself, tossing it back and wincing as she swallowed.
Miranda frowned, her perfectly smooth brow furrowing. "Back to Illium? I…"
"Alchera!" Shepard shouted.
Miranda bit her lip. She'd yet to see Shepard loose her composure but as she watched her run a hand over her face and through her fiery hair she sensed the Commander was on the edge. Shepard glanced around, as if physically pulling herself back to the present, grounding herself in reality with her surroundings.
She exhaled loudly before cutting her eyes back to Miranda. Her voice calm, controlled with effort, she said, "We're going to Alchera. I need…" she stopped short, the words to convey her need even to herself not yet conceived.
Miranda's chest constricted and she stepped forward, lifting her arm as if to reach out. Shepard almost flinched at the offered contact and Miranda stopped, suddenly aware of her actions and brought her hand back to her side. She swallowed, schooling her features into the cool, professional mask that had always served her well.
"I'll have Joker set a course," she said steadily.
Shepard nodded, the wildness that had crept to the surface receding as her gaze went back to the floating planet before her.
Miranda turned to leave but was halted when Shepard spoke again.
"I haven't forgotten," she said.
Miranda glanced back over her shoulder, finding Shepard's brilliant eyes focused on her.
"Your sister. You won't have to do it alone."
Miranda held her gaze, wondering again at the strength she found there even in the midst of personal turmoil. She didn't understand it. But she found the more glimpses of it she saw, the more she craved it. Craved Shepard.
She nodded crisply, careful not to let her mask slip. "Thank you Commander."
And with that she left her.