"Unbroken"

MaleShep/Miranda

Written for "Mass Effect Relationships Week" - Prompt - Confessions/Secrets

Summary: A nightmare wakes Shepard in the middle of the night and forced him to remember his long-kept secret... and remind himself that he was safe and not broken.

TRIGGER WARNING: Past severe child abuse.


"I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become." ~Carl Jung


Commander Marc Shepard jerked upright from his bed, his blue eyes widened with horror as he gasped for breath. He barely reached for his neck and swore that he felt nausea burning at the back of his throat. He found himself in that place between dreaming and awake, but the nightmare that gripped him moments ago was still seared into his mind…

A ten-by-ten room lined with bricks; eleven thousand seven-hundred and sixty-two to be exact. The cold air made him shiver no matter how hard he tried to stay warm. He was too short to reach the single window, his only indication of whether it was light or dark outside. At least the rain kept the room from being completely silent. The thoughts of being confined and trapped with no escape always frightened him. He was almost certain he would never find the courage to escape. He would have to run away while he was in school, he knew, but the fears and the threats that were instilled in him forced him to bury what bravery he had left…

He was always haunted by memories of the year before; a time when he had a bright future and knowing how lucky he was to have parents who loved and supported him… only for it all to be taken from him in one night. The foster system that took him in – and who promised to make sure he was taken care of - failed him within a few short months by sending him to this place. His trust in people shattered to pieces. His faith was stolen from him and, with that, the belief in the God his mother loved so dearly.

Intense fear made him shake like a leaf the moment he heard footsteps, which was followed by the unlocking of the door that held him here. A sickening dread flooded his soul, and he could only guess what kind of pain he was about to endure…

The nightmare, thankfully, stopped there. Shepard took a deep breath to will away the images of past memories that still plagued his mind, even nineteen years after his horrific experience in the foster system (and he never, ever called it foster 'care' like most people did…).

Soon after, despite his heart pounding hard against his chest, Shepard became aware of the soft, cool sheets that gently touched his skin, the warm temperature of his quarters, and the hum of the Normandy's engines - metal hulls instead of brick walls, and a much larger room than the ten-by-ten 'cage' he was confined to so long ago…

Shepard buried his face into his hands to take a moment to calm himself down. Under his breath, he murmured the same manta he repeated to himself over the years any time his past ordeal came back to haunt him in order to help ground himself to the present;

"It was only a dream. It's not real anymore. You're as safe as any soldier can be. You escaped. You're not broken. It's been over for nineteen years. Your tormentor is long dead. No one will control or hurt you like that ever again."

Some nights, the Commander repeated his words over and over until he was too tired to continue. But tonight, Shepard only had to say them twice. Though his heart still beat rapidly against his sternum, he didn't feel as panicky as he did when he first woke up.

For the last twenty or so years of his life, Shepard was plagued by bad memories of his past; the death of his parents, his time on the streets and the gang he was forced to join in order to survive, the violence he witnessed at Elysium, being forced to leave Ashley behind on Virmire… Occasionally, he dreamed of his own death over Alchera, but that didn't happen very often despite how recent (in his mind) the event took place.

He was willing to endure any of those memories night after night for the rest of his life if it meant he never dreamed of his time in the foster system ever again…

Dreaming of being back in that room was much less frequent these days, but it had been a constant 'companion' of his as a teenager on the streets. Back then, Shepard thought that simply freeing himself from his prison would end his torment once and for all. Instead, he learned the hard way that the kind of trauma he experienced had a way of following him like a shadow no matter how much he tried to escape its grasp. The nightmares were persistent; certain triggers sent him running, shaking, or screaming at the top of his lungs… and then there was the lingering fear that he would be found by his tormentor someday. Street life notwithstanding, it made his teen years confusing, emotional, and terrifying.

Upon falling into melancholy, Shepard quickly reminded himself – before he fell into that dark pit of despair - that he was no longer trapped in that cage. He was free, he was safe, and he was not broken.

"My father hurt me, but he didn't break me. As much as he tried to turn me into exactly what he wanted, I'm my own person."

That was what his XO and lover, Miranda Lawson, said to him after the events surrounding the mission to maintain her sister's safety. The words resonated with Shepard more than she would ever know. That day, he nearly told her that he understood (though the piece of shit in question – the one who hurt him - was his foster 'father'), but… how could she know how he understood? With the exception of his time in the Tenth Street Reds, not a single soul would have knowledge of his past beyond his days in a gang.

He made certain of that a long time ago.

For all the research Miranda claimed she did on Shepard during the Lazarus Project, there were still missing pieces to his past in her eyes. He kept the remainders a closely guarded secret since the day he started living on the streets…

No one knew about his parents, who loved and cherished him until the day they died – a car accident caused by a sudden snowstorm took their lives while he spent the night at a friend's house. No one knew about the terrible abuse he endured during the one year he was in the foster system, nor the day he found the courage to finally run away while he was in school. No one knew the full story about his six years on the streets, where he bided his time until he joined the Alliance on his eighteenth birthday. Back then, the Alliance was his best chance at a better life. No one knew that, on the day he enlisted, he changed his original surname to the one so well-known to the galaxy as a way to start fresh – it was an attempt to bury the past for good, though that hadn't worked as well as he hoped as time went on.

Would Shepard ever tell Miranda any of this? After twenty years of carrying his secret without ever opening up to anyone, it felt as though talking about it would make things so much more complicated. He didn't know how, but he had the feeling that it would. That, and he simply didn't want to open up any of the old wounds that were still barely patched up even after all this time. The nightmares were bad enough as it were…

Speaking of Miranda, Shepard turned his head to the right and saw her next to him. While lying on her side and facing him, she was sound asleep and undisturbed by his movements. Her face was relaxed, serene, and it brought a semblance of calm in his heart - and a reminder of how much he loved her.

Shepard wasn't the type to care about someone's looks, but there was no denying the awe he felt over how beautiful she was. He admired the way her raven locks splayed over the pillow she laid on, how she clutched the sheet that covered her breasts with her dainty hand while the other was tucked underneath her head on the pillow. The soft, blue glow from the fish tank - the only thing that was illuminating the room - created a ethereal light over her fair skin.

Slowly, Shepard reached a hand out and carefully brushed away a strand of hair that laid across her cheek. He tucked it back behind her ear before he bent down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. He then removed the sheet that covered him before took a moment to make sure that she was warm. Once that was done, he pressed his lips to her forehead before he got out of bed and headed to his bathroom on the other side of the cabin.

He always needed to shower after the kind of nightmare he had…

Shepard made sure that the water was at the hottest temperature he could handle before he turned it on. He was certain that EDI would reprimand him for it later, but he didn't care. For anyone who served in the Alliance, long hot showers were a rare luxury.

His eyes closed, Shepard leaned his back against the wall. As the heat rose and steam began to fog the room, his nightmare lingered in his mind and his eyes shut tighter - a weak attempt at willing away the invading visions.

It's not real… it's not real… not anymore…

Shepard wasn't sure how long he was in the shower as he tried to clear his mind. So far away he was from reality that, when the door to the bathroom eventually opened, he nearly jolted from the noise it made, as light as it was. At the very least, it was nothing like the sound of the door that once locked him in, so he was able to calm down quickly…

He also didn't have to open his eyes to know that it was Miranda who stood at the door's threshold. That was definitely a change from years ago, back when he had to see who walked into the room…

"Marc?" she called, and he noticed how her voice was laced with worry. Somehow, it had a calming and peaceful effect on him. He was almost certain it had a lot to do with the fact that she was calling him by his given name, which she only started to do very recently whenever they were alone together.

Shepard took a deep breath as he raised his head up and opened his eyes to look at her. "Miri," he uttered with the nickname he'd come to love to call her even before they began their relationship. He frowned as he realized something. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Not until you turned on the shower," Miranda replied. She went ahead and stepped into the bathroom before she closed the sliding door behind her to keep the cold from getting inside. "Is everything okay?"

The Commander was afraid she would ask that.

Shepard slowly pushed himself off the wall and moved underneath the shower head to get a full blast of the hot water, which quickly soaked his short black hair. The whole time, his eyes never left her. "I'm okay," he was able to say while he gently shook his head. Shepard then slightly craned his neck forward and his eyes averted away from her as he focused on the floor. He felt somewhat ashamed suddenly. "Just… dealing with some old memories…" he admitted quietly.

Miranda gradually moved towards him until there was only a few inches of space left between them. She then reached a hand up to gently cup one side of his face. The tip of her fingers barely caressed the base of his temple. He closed his eyes and slightly pressed his cheek into her hand as he let his mind focus on that warm, single touch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she murmured with concern.

Shepard drew in a quiet breath at her words as his emotions attempted to overwhelm him. Sometimes, in moments like these, it was hard to believe that this was where his life was…

Nineteen years ago, Shepard thought he would never trust anyone again. And though he still faced his own struggles – past and present – he somehow found and retained the strength to carry on. The day he enlisted, he made a promise to offer those any help they needed… because Shepard knew what it was like to not receive help when he needed it most. And despite no longer having faith, a part of him believed that, somehow, his efforts were rewarded.

The Commander found good people through his journey and formed lasting friendships with them - or fond memories of those who had come and gone. He faced his fear of intimacy and became a tender and caring paramour. He opened his heart to his crew and - though they'd never replace his parents - they became his cherished family.

And recently, at age thirty-one, he fell in love for the first time in his life.

Shepard grasped Miranda's hand - the one that touched his face - with his own before he moved it downward over his jawline and past his neck until her palm touched his chest - right over where his heart was. It was not the first time he moved her hand to his heart. The simple touch helped ground him to the present. It helped to remind him of all the good things he experienced since those dark days. It helped to remind him of how much he loved her.

It helped to remind him how far he'd come after all these years.

The past may forever haunt him, but he swore long ago that those dark days would never break him, no matter how hard it tried and no matter how many times it invaded his thoughts. He'd never let it have the chance to completely consume him. More importantly, he'd never let his long-dead tormentor win.

Shepard wanted to be truthful with Miranda about his past… but despite his resolve, he wasn't ready to tell her just yet. Maybe someday, when the Reapers weren't knocking on their door - and if they both survived the inevitable war - perhaps then, he would tell her.

"Believe me when I say that I'd like to talk about it," he finally breathed as he clutched her hand. His gaze on her never wavered. "I promise I'll tell you someday. Just… not now."

Miranda looked into his eyes and nodded with understanding. "Okay," she whispered.

No pushing, no questions… funny how a simple word made Shepard so grateful to her. It made him love her even more. After closing his eyes, he pulled Miranda close to him until he was holding her in his arms. She returned the embrace as his hand gently carded through her hair and he leaned his cheek to the side of her head.

I love you, Miri, Shepard thought as he tenderly pressed his lips to her temple. Someday, when the time is right, I'll tell you my story.