Miranda slept in a chair in Shepard's room. If she hadn't been a light sleeper to begin with, Cerberus would have made her one. But now she was attuned to the slightest change in Shepard's breathing, or in the soft, steady hum of the machines, or in the faint, even footsteps of the sentries below.
She heard a deep, rasping, shuddering sigh, and her eyes opened to find Shepard looking at her.
"Shepard." Miranda stood up stiffly and walked over to the bed. Those almond-shaped blue eyes followed her.
Shepard's voice sounded a thousand years old. "Wa - " she coughed. "Water?"
Miranda had the bottle ready on the bedside table. She touched the bed controls and Shepard was slowly raised to a sitting position. Shepard started to reach for the bottle, but Miranda gently pushed her hand back down. "Save your strength." She held the bottle to Shepard's lips and tilted it, giving her one small swallow at a time, so she wouldn't choke. Shepard tried to open her mouth, to take in more, but winced as she stretched the skin around her jaw. Some of the water trickled down her chin and beaded on her white gown.
Shepard drank the entire bottle. "More?" Her voice sounded much better.
Miranda had already called Jacob to bring another. She said, "How are you feeling?"
"I...where am I?"
"You're safe. You're with friends."
"Where are my crew? Are they all right?" Shepard's eyes seemed more focused now.
"They're all right." Miranda wasn't surprised Shepard didn't remember asking before.
"Can I see them?"
"Not right now. You need rest."
"I'll rest easier if I see them."
Miranda was pleased. Shepard's mind was working. All those tense, tedious hours of synaptic reconstruction had paid off. Then she remembered Jacob's advice. The woman had woken up in a strange place, with strange people, and she was worried. She took Shepard's hand and squeezed slightly. "I promise they're all right," she said.
Shepard took a deep breath. "I've seen you before." Her eyes clouded. "I...I was..."
Miranda squeezed again. "It's all right. Don't worry about that right now."
The door opened and Jacob walked in. Miranda was glad of the distraction. His eyes widened as he saw Shepard. Miranda hid a smile as he started to salute, then aborted the motion and just nodded instead. He understood this was perhaps the most delicate part of the entire project.
Miranda wished she were doing a better job of it. Surgery? That part was easy.
She held the fresh bottle up for Shepard, who drank about half of it. She set it on the bedside table. "If you're too tired to reach for it, just wake me. I'll be here." Shepard's wrists were no longer fastened to the bed. Miranda hoped she'd forgotten that too. She lowered Shepard's bed back to about forty-five degrees - she was still worried about some fluid in Shepard's lungs.
Shepard's eyes were already drifting closed again. Her lips moved. Miranda had to lean close to hear. "Who..."
"Miranda. Miranda Lawson."
Shepard's breathing was deep. Miranda thought she'd already gone back to sleep, but then her lips moved once more.
"Miranda."
She was trapped under dark water, with dead branches and leaves floating slowly above her, and something pinning her to the muddy bottom of the pond. The woman was standing on the shore, looking down at her through the ripples made by her terrified thrashing. She kept trying to scream the woman's name, even as the immovable weight of the water pressed down on her, seeping into her lungs, but all she could get out was "M...m..."
"Shepard." She was being shaken. "It's all right, Shepard. It's Miranda. I'm here. You're all right."
Her frantic breathing slowed and the terrified hammering of her heart receded. She was back in the room. It was warm and yellow. No, the walls were yellow, split by ornately carved beams of dark wood. The floor and ceilings were of the same wood. There was a lamp that filled the room with warm light. She realized Miranda had just switched it on. It must be the middle of the night.
She found herself resting her head on Miranda's shoulder. She wasn't sure how it happened. She was still shaking. It all surprised her. She didn't have many nightmares any more. She was used to fear. And she had never come close to drowning. So why would she dream about it?
"It's all right." Miranda's voice was quiet. Her hair was lush and black, and smelled faintly of pine needles. It fit with the room. But Shepard thought she had seen her in a different room before. Cold and metallic.
Shepard tried to think it through, but soon her thoughts became disjointed and nonsensical. Miranda had temporarily increased the sedative in her IV drip again, but she didn't know that. She did know her head was still on Miranda's shoulder as she fell asleep again. This time, there were no nightmares.
"Shepard."
Shepard stabbed blindly at the bed controls until she felt herself being lifted to a sitting position. "You can call me Kate, if you'll let me have some ice cream."
"Kate." It sounded strange to Miranda. The person in front of her had been Shepard, or even "it", for more than a year and a half. "You can soon, but it won't stay down yet."
Shepard groaned.
"We took your catheter out earlier. You can have a bedpan if you prefer, but you should be able to walk to the bathroom if I help you. I've turned the gravity down."
Shepard frowned for a moment, then her eyes widened and her face heated. It was also strange to see her blush. She was so pale, even when she was alive. Miranda guessed at once what was wrong. "It's okay. Not unexpected." She stood. "It's time for another bath anyway. We'll get you fresh sheets and everything. Hold on, I'll go run some water."
She started toward the bathroom. She didn't know what made her stop and turn around. Shepard had put her face in her hands. She was trembling. She's mortified, Miranda thought. Then: wouldn't you be?
"Shep - Kate." She put a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "You were asleep. You didn't know I took it out. When you have it in, you just don't think about it. It's all right. Really. Nothing I haven't seen before." That was true. She had practiced.
Shepard lowered her hands. There were tears in her eyes. "Miranda. Why am I here? And why is my face cut up? I can feel it. What happened to me? To my crew? To the Normandy?"
Miranda didn't want to go there yet, but Shepard wasn't going to be put off any more. She brought her chair over and sat beside the bed. "Your ship was destroyed. Most of your crew survived. Williams, Moreau, Chakwas, T'Soni, nar Rayya, they're all fine. You were hurt."
"How? Where am I? How long have I been here?"
Miranda had resolved not tell Shepard about the Lazarus project, not yet. And she refused to lie - it might help now, but it would be irreparable later. But Shepard had the thread and she was going to keep pulling.
"You're in a safe house. You've been here about a month." That was true. Lying by omission is still lying, Miranda. She went on, "You've been out for about eighteen months."
"Jesus." Shepard closed her eyes and sank back. Her reddish hair was getting longer. It made a halo against the white of the pillow.
"You're going to be all right," Miranda said.
Eyes still closed, Shepard said, "I keep...seeing something. Dreaming it, maybe. I'm falling..."
"Kate," Miranda said. Shepard's eyes opened. "Please, don't try to remember. We'll get to it, I promise." She stood up, to end the discussion.
She came back five minutes later with a tub of hot, soapy water and set it on a cart beside the bed. "I'm going to take this sheet off, and then your gown, all right?"
Shepard pushed the sheet down. "It's okay. I was a marine. I'm not shy. And you've seen me, I'm sure."
You have no idea, thought Miranda.
Shepard reached behind her neck and snapped the ties. The front of her gown fell down over her breasts. Then she reached behind her waist and snapped the ties there as well. Miranda found that she envied Shepard's lack of self-consciousness. Shepard squirmed out of the dampened gown, then winced either in pain or shock. Like her face, her naked white body was crisscrossed with angry scars.
"It's all right." That had become Miranda's litany. "They'll heal. Just sit back and relax." She stuffed the gown and sheet into a plastic bag, then pulled out the sheet beneath Shepard as well, leaving only the impermeable mattress cover.
Shepard hugged herself. She was shivering a little.
"This'll help." Miranda soaked the sponge in the soapy water, squeezed it, and began scrubbing Shepard's back.
"Ahh..." The water was very hot. A few trickles ran down Shepard's back and she sat up, arching her back, an involuntary smile revealing her even white teeth. Her shivering stopped. She let out a deep sigh of pleasure as Miranda soaped her neck, then her shoulders and arms and chest and stomach. She hated being so obvious, but it felt so good, and she'd been in various states of pain and discomfort for so long. She even said, "You can do this all day if you want." She was half-hoping Miranda would take her up on it.
Miranda assumed Shepard was just covering her embarrassment. She's used to doing things for herself, Miranda thought. She smiled and said, "Well, enjoy it while it lasts." The sponge made a spiral down Shepard's legs, to her feet.
She rubbed soap into Shepard's face and hair last. Shepard sat there, covered in suds, as Miranda went back to the bathroom and returned with a tub of clean water. Shepard kept her eyes closed as Miranda rinsed her. Then she was enveloped in a warm, fluffy white towel. Miranda patted her down lightly, careful not to pull her skin.
When she was dry, Miranda wrapped her in the towel. "Almost done. I just need to move you to this chair while I put new sheets on." Shepard rotated and put her bare feet on the floor. Miranda stood facing her, holding her hands as she stood up. Her knees almost buckled, but she caught herself. Her face was white. "It's okay," Miranda said. She helped Shepard take a shaking step, turning her body so she could sit down in Miranda's chair. Shepard slumped, panting. She was not looking forward to standing up again.
Miranda keyed her omni-tool and swept her arm over the bed. A broad, flat red beam of light washed across the mattress cover, silently disinfecting it. She went to a cupboard and took out a set of crisp white sheets. She quickly put on the fitted sheet, then the flat sheet. She turned to Shepard, hands out to help her up. "Ready?"
Shepard's wide blue eyes looked up at her, her face drawn and miserable. "I...I'm gonna..."
Miranda grabbed the tub of rinse water and held it out for her, slopping some onto the floor. She was just in time. Shepard threw up.
There wasn't much. When she was done, Miranda took the bottle of water, gently tilted Shepard's head back, and lifted it to her lips so she could rinse her mouth out. She did, twice, spitting it into the tub, and then drank.
Miranda sat the tub down. "Better?"
Shepard nodded, her eyes closed.
Miranda put a hand on her shoulder. "It's an aftereffect from the anesthesia." She knelt and slid an arm under Shepard's knees. "Here, lean forward a bit." She put her other arm behind Shepard's back and lifted her into the bed, thankful for the lowered gravity. Then she pulled the sheet up over her. "You had a busier day than I planned. Is there anything you need?"
Shepard was curled up tightly. "I'm cold," she murmured.
That happens after vomiting, Miranda thought. She got a thick blanket from the cupboard and put it over Shepard. "How's that?"
Shepard nodded once. Then she was out.
Miranda sat down. She was tired too. She thought, you don't see the magic in the most basic bodily functions until you've done the plumbing yourself. She laughed a little, but Shepard slept on, oblivious. After a minute, so was Miranda.
Miranda was awakened by a slight creak of a floorboard. There was some moonlight streaming through the window. It showed a dark blue and white outline of Shepard, her blanket wrapped around her, leaning heavily on a table with one hand and clutching her IV tree with the other, about halfway across the room.
"Kate..." The figure started. "It's me." She stood up, stretched, and walked over to take Shepard's arm. Shepard didn't argue as Miranda helped her the rest of the way to the bathroom.
She eased Shepard down onto the seat, and waited. She should have stood outside but she was too sleep-fogged to think of it. Anyway, Shepard learned to the side and rested her head against Miranda's stomach as she went.
She went for long enough that Miranda noticed it. "You must have been miserable. How long did it take you to get that far? You should have woken me."
"I had to try..."
You have to learn to ask for help until you get better, Miranda almost said. No, Shepard was right. She did have to try.
In the dark, she just saw the smile that tugged at Shepard's mouth. "You can help me get back, though."