Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all its characters belong to Bioware.

Hellhound

Shepard woke the next morning with the sun.

"Good. You're up." Shepard craned his neck and saw Miranda seated in the dining room, sipping a cup of coffee and reading from a datapad.

"Yeah. How long have you been awake?" Shepard pulled himself off the couch and was heading for the coffee when, feeling Miranda's scowl send chills down his spine, he remembered the no foods/no liquids rule and sighed miserably.

"A while. I don't sleep much." Miranda looked across the table to where Shepard had taken a seat. "Apparently neither do you."

Shepard leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. She was right; he hadn't. He couldn't close his eyes without reappearing back in the cornfield, in that terrible cold rain and impenetrable night. He would realize where he was and then he would see Izzy being hauled off by the slaver, screaming his name, pleading for his help. He would run after her, run and run and run, thinking that unless he found her he would never escape.

He never did find her, but he always woke up. How many times had he broken out of his dream only to fall back into it again?

Sensing that Shepard had no intention of talking about what had kept him up the better part of the night, Miranda continued reading the datapad. "We'll head for Zarnow's once you're dressed."

Shepard, brought back to the present by Miranda's words, nodded and left the table for his room. Once he had changed and returned to the main apartment, Miranda stood and walked briskly past him towards the elevator. Shepard followed and together they stepped inside.

The doors closed and Miranda turned and held out a small red pill. "Put this under your tongue. It should dissolve by the time we get to Zarnow. Try not to talk and don't swallow it."

Shepard took the pill and rolled it between his thumb and index finger. "What's it for?"

"Honestly, John, do you think I've been chauffeuring you around these last few days just to poison you? It's an adjuvant." Shepard's face was no less confused. "To strengthen the effects of the anaesthesia." Shepard must've been content with the answer; he promptly dropped the small pill under his tongue and closed his mouth.

Once in the skycar, Shepard, unable to talk, sat quietly as the Galactic News broadcasted over the aircar's radio.

"…In other news, authorities are currently investigating the cause of the explosion of an Eldfell-Ashland Energy vessel that released hundreds of tons of dust-form element zero into the atmosphere of Yandoa, a Systems Alliance colony…"

Shepard paid little attention to the broadcast, choosing instead to lean his head against his window and lose himself in the hypnotic effect of watching the skycars zoom by.

"John." Shepard heard his name being called and looked to his left to see that they had already arrived at Zarnow's, and that Miranda had already climbed out of the skycar. Shepard did the same and rejoined her in the elevator.

"All you feeling alright? You seem a bit out of it." Miranda looked up and down at Shepard, as if trying to diagnose him with her eyes alone.

"Just…bad dreams is all." Miranda's eyes stopped their survey.

"Mindoir?"

Shepard nodded but was careful to keep his eyes well out of range of Miranda's magnetic gaze. He had long since discovered that her eyes had the ability to null any and all of his defenses.

The elevator opened, though this time Zarnow wasn't there to greet them. They travelled down the same white corridor and entered the room at the end.

"John!" Shepard heard his name being stretched out in the Doctor's familiar, rather histrionic voice.

"Dr. Zarnow." Shepard gave a polite nod.

"And Miranda! I take it you heard of our success at Yandoa this morning?" Yandoa? Shepard thought the name sounded familiar but couldn't place it.

"I did. You must be pleased."

"Naturally. Cerberus has already begun planning new facilities, though the children won't manifest their abilities for years. It's a shame I won't be able to get the whole batch, though." Zarnow leaned forward and whispered: "I hear the Alliance is starting up a new biotic academy to replace the BAaT after what happened last year."

Zarnow straightened his back and clapped his hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Well, at least I have you to study in the meantime, eh John?" Shepard smiled uneasily. "Now, if you'll follow me downstairs, we'll take your personal items and set you up with an IV."

"We? Miranda, you're coming?"

Zarnow laughed. "Oh, no, no, no. There're a couple other doctors who'll be assisting me. Ms. Lawson will be able to observe you from up here."

"You'll be fine, John. Go." Shepard stopped resisting the doctor's nudging and let his self be led from the room. Once he had been stripped of his possessions and subject to a lengthy decontamination process, he was led into a large, high ceiling white room filled with operating equipment. Aside from Zarnow, there were three other doctors inside, though he couldn't make out any of their faces as they were all wearing blue masks. One of them gestured for Shepard to sit down and then came over and hooked up his IV. The blue man, as Shepard came to think of the figure, pushed his head back and Shepard found himself lying flat against the table. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a series of long metallic arms.

"What're those?"

"Hmm?" Zarnow traced Shepard's gaze to the ceiling. "Oh! Yes, normally they'd be used for this type of procedure but I'm afraid there simply wasn't enough time to properly input and review the necessary data. One small mathematical error could lead to permanent full body paralysis, you know?"

Shepard, who was naturally uncomfortable enough in hospitals, was overcome with minor terror. It was then that he saw a shutter lift on the upper part of a nearby wall, revealing Miranda on the other side of a pane of glass.

Zarnow placed a mask over Shepard's nose and mouth. "Inhale and count to three!"

Shepard felt his body being drained of its strength. He weakly lifted up his hand and waved at Miranda, who uncrossed her arms and waved back in return. Shepard felt himself getting sleepy and his vision start fading.

"Hand me that razor, would…" Zarnow's voice was suddenly very distant. Then everything went black.

When Shepard woke next, he felt as though barely a second had gone by. His limbs were still heavy but now he could also feel a steady throbbing from the back of his neck. He rolled slowly onto his side and reached back warily to touch it. Though the back of his neck was covered in what felt like a large rectangular bandage, it was still sensitive to the touch.

He was about to pull his hand back when he noticed his head felt surprisingly light…and cold. He tried to run his fingers through his hair, but he no longer had any, save for a soft chestnut fuzz.

"Wha…?" Shepard blinked his eyes open and, after recovering from some momentary blindness, realized he was back in the room where he had been scanned the night before.

He tried to sit up but met resistance from a slender hand that reached out across his chest.

"Slowly, John." Miranda put down her datapad on a nearby table and rolled over closer to where he sat.

"They shaved my head?"

"I'm afraid so. Working around the skull base is delicate work and they wanted to minimize interference." Miranda reached up and held Shepard's face in her hands. He hoped she couldn't feel his cheeks warming.

"What're you-" Miranda put her thumbs under his eyes, leaned forward, and stared into them with a critical look.

"I'd like to get started node mapping as soon as possible, but I need to be sure most of the effects of the anaesthesia have worn off." Miranda pulled Shepard's face to the right, then left, then brought her hands to the sides of his neck and pressed her index and middle finger into his flesh. Shepard gulped and made a futile attempt to pull his eyes away from Miranda.

Miranda held up both her hands in a stop position. "Push." Shepard did.

"Good. Squeeze." Miranda held out her hands with her palms facing the floor. Shepard froze but then reached forward and brought his palms under hers and with his thumbs against the backs of her hands, squeezed gently. He let his hands linger like that, remembering that moment back on Mindoir when he had held her hand in his.

Miranda, briefly, had as well. She cleared her throat and removed her hands from Shepard's light grip.

Shepard, his hands still hanging in the air, quickly brought them back to his sides. "Where's Dr. Zarnow?"

"At home sleeping I imagine. Touch your fingers to your thumbs." Miranda demonstrated with her own hands.

"Sleeping?" Shepard mirrored Miranda's motions.

"The surgery was over twelve hours long, John."

"Twelve hours? I felt like I barely blinked." This time Shepard drew a circle in the air. "I thought all they did was put it at the base of your skull."

"And connect it to dozens of nerve endings without causing paralysis or retardation."

Miranda, satisfied with Shepard's performance, concluded her battery of tests.

"So what now?"

Miranda stood up and headed to a nearby terminal. "Now we mark your eezo nodes and figure out what movements will signal the proper pathways to activate them." The room dimmed and Shepard saw 3D images of his self and Miranda be projected into the middle of the room, above where he sat. He moved his arm and watched his digital self do the same. "This is seriously cool."

Again, Shepard watched as the various layers of tissues in his second self flickered away until all he could see were his EZNs, nervous system, skeleton, and ghostly outline of his skin. Miranda's holograph underwent a similar transformation.

"Take off your shirt and pants," Miranda called back nonchalantly; she was faced away from Shepard and pulling a small case out of a nearby cabinet.

Shepard, who had of course been through this entire process before and who had resigned himself to the fact that he would no longer be able to keep anything private from Miranda Lawson, sighed and started pulling his shirt over his head. Once stripped down to his boxer briefs, Shepard was acutely aware of the cool temperature of the room.

Miranda pulled over a small table on top of which was the small, metallic case.

"Hold out your arm like this." Miranda lifted her arm so it was perfectly horizontal. Shepard did the same.

Miranda turned and opened the small case, revealing dozens of circular stickers, each less than a centimeter in diameter. She took out the first one and balanced it carefully on her index finger tip of her right hand and held Shepard's arm in her left. Watching the interaction of their two holographs suspended in the air above her, Miranda placed the sticker on Shepard's skin not far from one of the blood red spheres. Shepard too was watching the projection, and noticed that Miranda's EZNs were far more numerous and a rosy pink.

"Pay attention to where these markers go, John," Miranda said in a chastening voice.

"Huh?" Shepard was still staring at the holographs.

"I expect you to memorize the locations and number of your EZNs by tomorrow. Eventually you'll have to memorize their relative sizes and densities as well."

"What for?" Shepard looked at Miranda as she continued placing the stickers on his tanned skin.

"The better understanding you have of your body, the better understanding you'll have of your biotics. The strength of your biotics and the degree of control you have over them depends not just on the frequency of the nervous impulses you send, but the number of and which EZNs you send them to. Other arm, please."

Shepard turned in his seat and held out his left arm. He looked at his right arm, which was dotted with over a dozen of the stickers. He wiggled his fingers and saw the stickers glow purple before fading again.

"Whoa. Are they supposed to do that?" Shepard wiggled his fingers more vigorously and watched the dozen stickers light up more brightly, each at a different time. He squeezed his fist and watched them all light up at once.

Miranda watched Shepard grin unabashedly as he played with the stickers. Miranda, amused by his fascination, decided not to berate him and simply continue her work on his left arm. "They glow whenever you generate dark energy from their respective EZN. It's how we'll map the nodes to specific muscular contractions."

"Hey, Miranda, check it out!" Shepard wiggled his pinky and lit up a single sticker.

Miranda shook her head but couldn't help smiling a little.

A few minutes later, when Shepard had mastered lighting up the better part of the markers on his right arm one at a time, Miranda let go of his left arm and told him to stand up.

"There's more?"

"Most nodes are in your arms, but there's also a substantial amount in the muscle wall of your upper chest, with a few more along your back, abdomen, and in your legs." Miranda took another sticker in her right hand and placed her left flat against Shepard's chest. Shepard, unable to concentrate, ceased playing with the markers on his arms.

Knowing that silence would only make his nervousness worse, he asked Miranda the first question that popped into his head.

"How'd you become a biotic? Were you born one like me?" Shepard noticed Miranda's hands slow at the question.

"If you're asking whether or not I was exposed in-utero, then no."

"So how?"

Miranda reached for another sticker. "I was exposed as a young girl."

"Industrial accident?"

"No," Miranda said flatly.

Shepard cocked his head to the side, obviously confounded. "I didn't know there were other ways."

Miranda continued working as she spoke: "I was deliberately exposed. Multiple times, in fact."

Shepard's face hardened. "By who?"

"My father. He…He wanted a daughter who'd also be a powerful biotic. At one point, he actually considered surgically taking EZNs from known biotics and implanting them. Naturally, he tried it first on a couple of test subjects but he could never find a way to keep their bodies from rejecting them, let alone use them." Shepard couldn't make out Miranda's expression in the dim lighting. "So he tried forceful exposure. But like I said before, where EZNs manifest is impossible to foresee. To him, they were never large enough or dense enough or in quite the right place. Thus the multiple exposures. He only stopped once the doctors convinced him any more would kill me. Even to this day, he believes my biotics aren't up to par."

Shepard was torn between the desire to hunt the man who had done such a thing to Miranda, and to simply reach out and hold her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. My father was a maniac. Though I suppose his efforts weren't a total failure: I'm still listed as one of the ten most powerful human biotics in the galaxy," Miranda said bitterly, as if her success was somehow a sick validation of her father's actions.

Shepard, against his better judgment, reached out and held her hand in his. He wished he knew what to say or what she needed to hear. But he didn't.

So he held her hand hoping that somehow she would understand everything he was feeling.

His anger.

His compassion.

His love.