"Night Mission in Venice" from Assassin's Creed II / "The Illusive Man" from Mass Effect 2 / "Sanctuary" from Assassin's Creed II

XXII. Wings of the Goddess

(Ashley)

Driving back home in the dead of night, I sat in the comfortable leather passenger's seat of Miranda's all-black, high-end skycar, staring out the window to the highway.

Staring out there as much as I could with this dark tint in the way, at least. Those other cars, their bright headlights and brake lights, and the people inside the vehicles: they had no idea about the night I'd just had. They didn't know the first thing about this twisted shape and deadened color of my depression, brightening only in the moonlight, in the promise that I would see Shepard again someday. They had no clue how beaten and broken I was, barely hanging on by this thread from another woman who should've been a perfect stranger to me.

So perfect, so strange in her silence: Miranda said nothing as she drove us through this light traffic.

She focused on the road in a hazy concentration.

Hazed in her distant thoughts, misted by the golden light of the city permeating through the windshield: Miranda's stunning face glowed in that gold, and of the closer, brighter one from her car's controls beaming over her skin, her hair, and her eyes in the night-dark. Steel blue of Miranda's sight lightened to a paler color in these pockets of brightness. Equally as cold and calculating, she wouldn't let herself exist in those softer perceptions, still trying to fight it all, with her icy stare doing its best to push through.

In her consideration, Miranda had already turned her car's heater on, warming us through the night chill.

All I needed to cap off these reminders was some music.

Miranda didn't have anything playing. Not the radio, not her own songs. Nothing. Just the sounds of the whirring skycars on the highway reached us here—and the occasional, harder exhale she let out, or the stressed, anxious moans rumbling out from her throat, quietly.

She probably sounded like that because she knew I was busy staring at her now.

I figured it wouldn't hurt to start a conversation; hopefully ease this edge about her.

But first: "Hey, Miranda," I said. "Do you mind if I hook up my omni-tool to your stereo system? We can listen to some of Shepard's music. I have her whole collection here. It's pretty damn good. Maybe this way, we can have her back with us again. What do you think?"

Without a word, Miranda pressed a few of those glowing buttons, syncing up her system with Shepard's music library program in my omni-tool.

Smiling with my pain, I picked out the playlist Shepard had curated for driving me around in her car during shore leave. Not too loud, I played her music through Miranda's speakers, just at the right volume to feel this bass drilling through our seats. This sultry alternative R&B made me smile even more: atmospheric in these dark, experimental beats, so sexy. Like it was yesterday, I remembered the leather of Shepard's car seats, and that artificial cinnamon from her car's brand new, refreshed flavor. I remembered that rain pouring down against her windshield late that afternoon, blurring the traffic lights on the highway; blurring as my own sight blurred now, missing her like this so badly.

I could push it back for now.

I could be strong like this.

I could be patient and break myself like this, destroying myself to wait for her again, all over again. Because I had to be okay. I had to be.

I found a lot of strength in Miranda's gentle smile, too, as immersed in Shepard's world as I was from this music.

"So," I started. "What exactly do you do, working for Cerberus? What's your job?"

"I'm one of the organization's most trusted officers," replied Miranda. "Aside from my role as head of the Lazarus Project, I'm a tactical operative. I also answer directly to the Illusive Man as one of his top lieutenants. He understands my capabilities and allows me to handle certain, sensitive projects. Like this one."

Remembering that skintight suit of hers, I asked, "Are you just into tactics, then? Or do you fight, too?"

By her subdued tone, Miranda didn't quite brag about this in the way I expected her to: "I'm a very powerful biotic, actually. For a human. I can distort any heavy defenses in my way, or slam my enemies to the ground with deadly force. I also have tech abilities, like Overload, to compliment my specialty."

Specializing in stripping defenses; maintaining her own. "You're a sentinel, then? Tech and biotic powers."

"I suppose I am," allowed Miranda. "Just without the classic tech armor or clear firepower. My personal shields more than make up for things, keeping me safe. And I prefer using smaller, one-handed weapons that are lighter and more discreet. I can freely use my biotics or my omni-tool and tech abilities with my other hand. I'd rather use any and all tactics I possibly can to weaken or confuse my enemies before taking them down. Or I can use my other support skills to enhance my stronger teammates instead, making them even more powerful. Going in guns blazing isn't quite my style. Not like you as a soldier at heart."

Of course Miranda would know my service history with the Alliance, and my style of fighting.

Since she and Cerberus really did plan on fighting those damned Collectors that destroyed the Normandy, and who were out in the Terminus Systems causing trouble for the colonists there, then I wanted to fight them, too. And Miranda was bound to be on our team. So I needed to know these things about her style, how she operated.

Plus, talking to her like this did help to keep me grounded. I felt like I could cope. Like I could deal.

"What do you specialize in as a Cerberus officer? You know, in general?"

Miranda sounded a bit more comfortable now as she explained, "For Cerberus operations, I specialize in management, medical science and biology, and combat analysis. For the Lazarus Project especially, I spent a great deal of time studying pharmacokinetic modeling and organic-synthetic fusion, in order to recreate Shepard precisely as she was before. Although a great deal of time for me isn't too long. I can pick up new skills and information rather easily next to the average person. I'm anything but average."

"Uh-huh. So you're pretty much a genius. That's impressive, anyway. I wouldn't want anyone else in charge of bringing Shepard back. You definitely sound like you know what you're doing." Miranda seemed like she wanted to smile at that, but she steeled it away. "I get the idea behind your management specialty as a leader. What about your combat analysis?"

"I mainly focus on processing tactical and ballistic data in real-time both during and outside of combat. My goal is to provide relevant reports to improve my team's performance and future tactics. For example, I'll be able to optimize the ballistics on Shepard's sniper rifle directly in the middle of a fight, right as she's shooting. Along with her unique concentration and precision powering her shots, she can truly penetrate any defenses this way. It will all be a great help in our fight against the Collectors."

"Yeah, it will," I agreed. "I'm looking forward to taking those bastards down. So whenever we're ready to go once Shepard's back, say the word and I'm there. I need some fucking payback for what they did."

Miranda lightened some more, now that she had my confirmation that I was in this fight, too.

"Absolutely," she promised. "We'll be putting together a team of the best fighters and specialists in the galaxy for this mission. Your name will be at the top of the list. Though I'm sure it's a given that Shepard will want to bring you along. I have no doubts about that." Miranda brought the subject back around to combat, to fighting: "Since Shepard is more of a glass cannon with her abilities, you must have a vested interest in doing all you can to bolster her weaknesses. I'll be able to upgrade her tactical cloak implants and the like, but I can't make her invincible. Have you given any more thought to starting your N7 training?"

"Once I'm ready, I'll accept the offer and head out. I already know I'll pick a specialization that'll make me stronger. And I want to protect Shepard, too. Whenever we're stuck in close-quarters combat or in a direct line of fire, I can be more of a tank for her. Nothing too bulky or anything. I still want to be able to move around. I'm committed to this now—all the way. I just…need some time first."

Miranda understood. "Of course."

Understanding even more, we both let this silence pass between us, music thrumming through.

I wasn't sure what else to talk about, but I didn't want things to be weird. Besides, Miranda had gone back to her quieted, stressed out sighs, like she thought I couldn't hear her.

Giving her a break, I went ahead and turned the music up for the rest of the drive.

As intelligent and capable as she was, I never would've guessed she was the socially awkward type.

And as expensive as Miranda's car looked and felt, I knew this woman was rich—loaded. Not just from her work as a Cerberus officer. Privileged upbringing, probably, from the way she spoke, from the way she dressed, and especially from the way she held herself, standing up on a pedestal.

Yet another fucking mirror, huh?

Soon enough, we made it to Shepard's apartment building looming over the neighborhood as a dark tower of dazzling lights in the night. Miranda landed her car over the rooftop. This place doubled as a huge helicopter landing pad and a gateway to the underground parking below the building. I pushed back my memories of that hotel rooftop: how much I hated heights as it was, with all of this making it way worse. Maybe not knowing the same, Miranda set her car down in a careful precision, right over the Parking designation drawn and etched into the rooftop's surface.

Once we got outside, Miranda went to her car's storage, pulling out her overnight bag. Prepared.

I waited until she was done before going to the nearby panel: pressing a few buttons, I sent her car to the parking lot for unit 3434's guest space.

Then we headed into the building, straight to the elevator.

No need to stealth my way through this time.

Taking the elevator down to the 34th floor, I noticed Miranda's chic overnight bag—that light plaid of an off-white background and red stripes. Burberry. She was such a designer girl. That along with the Prada clothes she had on, it all made me start to wonder…

Just how long had Miranda known about Shepard for?

Probably since Shepard's modeling days. Maybe even since she got her start when she was thirteen. And if Miranda was in her mid-thirties now, then she had to have been in her later teenage years at the time.

Still, Shepard was thirteen…seventeen years ago.

Reeling from that very real possibility, I did my best to not say anything for now.

Leaving the elevator and walking down this empty, carpeted hallway with her, I noticed the change in me: how I started looking at Miranda more. Picking up on more details about her. Wondering about her more, more, so much more.

Either Miranda had some serious discipline to put up with this situation for so long, or she was messed up.

Or both.

Exactly like me, only way worse.

Finally making it back home, I unlocked the door, letting Miranda in first. She gave me a small smile as she went inside, pleased that I remembered what she'd said earlier about manners. But after what I had likely figured out about her, this was the least I could do.

The apartment's VI greeted me in that calming voice, "Welcome home, Lieutenant Williams."

Still not used to this, never getting used to it—I felt a few tears slipping down my face, warmed more by the heating system that was on already.

I was lucky Miranda couldn't see: she had already wandered over to the windows, to the sights of the scowling, dark and moody buildings out there, brightened by the mists and city lights this late at night.

Lights off here in the apartment, Miranda's tall, curved, heeled silhouette smoldered against those sights. Just as dark, just as moody in her presence and in her thoughts, she looked so lovely to me like this. Darkened in appreciation, at least, I felt her taking in this atmosphere of Shepard's home in a much different way than before. Before, she was in and out, not letting herself absorb as much as she'd wanted. This time, she seemed to soak up everything in the majesty of this space, needing to become one with it if it would bring her any closer to the one we missed like this.

After a while, she let herself into the guest room nearby. I followed after her.

Watching Miranda look around in here, too, I let her know, "Feel free to take a shower in the bathroom. The kitchen's open if you're hungry or anything. Shepard packed the food away in her forever-freezer. Whenever you're done, come find me in her room down the hall, okay? We'll sleep in there."

Fixated on this view of the broken mirror in the bathroom, Miranda stated, "As you wish, Ashley."

"That's been there for a while," I explained. "It wasn't from me. I don't know how that happened. Shepard just never got it fixed."

Hollow, disordered thoughts, drifting back to order: "I see."

"Hey, and don't hide any cameras or listening devices anywhere. You and I are good now, but you're still with Cerberus… I'm trusting you here in Shepard's home. I'm trusting you like this. Got it?"

Making a point, making eye contact with me—"I understand. I promise not to betray that trust." Setting her Burberry bag down over the bed, Miranda went to investigate the mirror. "I'll find you soon enough. I won't be too long."

Leaving her be, I left to the kitchen, to try and find something to eat.

Other than that fruit earlier, I hadn't actually eaten in days. Not since I was still aboard the Normandy, still oblivious to what awaited us later on that night. I could eat just enough for now. Now that I had some reassurance about things. Now that I could push away these memories of the team, of the rest of the crew. Pushing them away, knowing I had betrayed them like this, all to deal with my own selfish wants.

After hearing the sounds of the shower running in the guest bathroom, I went to Shepard's room.

Our room.

Aside from setting down that picture of Shepard and Liara together, I hadn't done much in here. Just lying down in Shepard's bed, our bed, for this entire week that had passed since we lost her. Lying down here, mute and empty. Waiting. Just waiting for more time to pass. Waiting until yesterday, once enough time had passed. Crying when I couldn't deal anymore, then forcing myself to return to my waiting.

I took a shower to clean off that old waiting, those old reasons that would never be.

I could've survived that path, if only to bring another part of Shepard into this world, living with her that way.

But once those dreams had died—just like I knew they would—I gave up. Like I had no choice. Like my own despair had made the choice for me.

Even knowing that Shepard had entrusted her legacy to me in her will, I just couldn't go on anymore…

Until Liara had surprised me by showing up here, bringing this unbelievable miracle with her.

And after everything, I actually found out from Miranda that I was the one. I had protected Shepard's mind, not Liara. I still couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that all my hopes and prayers came true in the end. I couldn't wrap my head around this. Not until I had solid answers. But this strengthened me in a way I needed, even as much as my emotions got to me in this moment.

Crying again, way more, while hidden in this warm mist of water, so soothing—I felt my determination to live. I felt it, but it wasn't mine. I felt this strength to press on and be patient, but it wasn't from me. Not completely. Not as much as I wanted it to be.

It would've been so much easier to convince myself that I could do this on my own.

As much as Miranda had this blackmail over me, she had my life in her hands, too.

As messed up and heartbroken as she probably was, she was all I had left. She had known about Shepard for so long, for way longer than I had. So she had every right to feel the way she did about what had happened. Because of that, I felt myself trusting her more. I trusted her so much more, knowing what it was like to be in her position. Knowing and seeing how pointless it was to love and want and need someone who was so far away, so unattainable; and having those feelings stick around anyway, staying near, growing stronger every single day.

Far away and unattainable, all over again.

Numb and dazed, I found my way back to Shepard's bed at some point. I put on some of her usual clothes she would wear to sleep: one of her boyish tank tops, a pair of sweatpants, and even her boxer briefs. I stayed curled up here beneath her comforter and her sheets, with my head over the heavenly softness of her pillows; drifting away in this smell of her, in the memory of her, so close to me in this illusion, this mirage of my senses. I felt it all so much more in the complete silence everywhere, all around me. Not a single sound from the city could interrupt me. Not a single, unwanted voice could reach me.

Holding on to reality, I made myself hear the sounds of Miranda in the kitchen, finding something to eat.

I stayed here in this comfort, comforted more by the snug warmth of the apartment's heating system.

Waiting only a little while longer—until I heard Miranda's soft footsteps down the hall, coming closer.

I stared at her as I lay here in the bed, just as she stared at me while she stood there by the door.

I only now realized Miranda's vulnerability—how awkward it must have been for her to not be in regular clothes. How revealing it must have been for her in this dressed-down plainness and comfort: of black and white, of a tight shirt and tight pants, like under-armor locking over her skin and her limbs, keeping her safe and protected. Vulnerable, revealing, since she was about to go to sleep with me, in that state where she wasn't aware anymore, wasn't capable anymore, wasn't perfect anymore.

Taking this space I'd left for her over the bed, closer to the door, Miranda lay down there. Her face, her body soaked in the heavenly light from the half-open blinds of the windows. Staying on her back, completely still—she wouldn't look at me. Wouldn't say anything. Wouldn't let herself breathe.

"Miranda, why are you being so awkward right now?"

Sighing again, stressed out again. She wouldn't answer me.

Moving closer to her, I leaned on Miranda's shoulder, hovering next to her face, to her hair. Watching her for a bit, I caught the way her heart had trapped her here in this room, here in this moment. Like she never wanted to leave, even though she knew she would have to go eventually. We both would.

I had my N7 training down the line.

She had to start the project once I signed off on everything in the morning.

But instead of letting herself relax, Miranda had gotten tangled up in that tragedy of the inevitable.

Not really intending anything, I reached out to touch her face. Just to feel her. Just to make sure she was real. Whatever was on her mind, Miranda at least let me turn her toward me, facing me like this. And this softness of her face, this open feeling of her freshly-washed skin: she felt more than real to me. No matter what she seemed like, she was an actual woman, and an actual person, living and breathing next to me, exactly as I needed.

Miranda felt so close to me.

Despite her limited distance—not quite meeting my eyes as she observed me—I really needed her here.

So I had to know, "How long do you actually plan on being here with me?"

Miranda made herself reply to me, "Well, your first priority is handling things with the Alliance. After that, I'll make sure you speak with the Illusive Man personally, as promised. It would be best if we install a quantum entanglement communicator in the apartment. If you don't mind, that is. The installation should take a few days."

"Yeah, we can do that. And after I talk to your boss, then what?"

"Since we both need the company, I'll stay with you. At least through the holidays, until a little after the New Year. By then, I'll have everything set up with the Lazarus Project remotely from here. I'll be able to get started right away when I return. Unless you planned on spending that time with your family."

"No… Aside from my baby sister, I'm still not talking to any of them. I'd rather be with you."

"Fair enough," accepted Miranda. "Then I can use the extra time to work in Shepard's office on my terminal. I'll make some calls tomorrow to check out of my hotel and have the rest of my things brought over. Other than that, I'll be free to look after you. We can spend the time however you'd like. Whatever you need. I'm taking this responsibility seriously. If not more so than my actual work."

"And why's that?"

"You're the one Shepard loves. The one she entrusted her entire legacy to. You're the one who elevated her willpower and gave her strength. Even when all hope seemed lost, you never once gave up on your devotion to her. We all need you, Ashley. I owe Shepard this much. Anything more, I'll find a way to explain in due time. Not tonight. Not yet."

I could live with that.

Leaving the rest unspoken did seem like the best idea. At least for now.

Underneath the insulated warmth of Shepard's comforter, between the soft comforts of Shepard's sheets—Miranda lay here with me, kind of holding me as I kept my head over her chest. Not quite tangling my legs with hers, even though I wanted to. Not quite letting myself enjoy this clean freshness about her from her shower, I breathed in this smell of her skin anyway. Not quite feeling, not quite numb, I let myself drift off in her arms.

Drifting, someplace faraway, so far from here.

Somewhere without pain. Somewhere without worrying about my faith, and about staying true to my relationship, even knowing that Shepard was gone. Off and away, out to sea, out to the stars. As if Shepard was just…deployed somewhere. Deployed as a marine. Gone, but temporary, like how Dad would be off fighting somewhere for me, for our whole family. Like how I would be deployed to fight for my sisters. Like Shepard was off fighting some other war somewhere, as if protecting me from something, someone… Letting me have this peaceful sleep without nightmares. Letting me have this rest after so much restless trauma. Letting me have this much, out of reach from my own demons.

Way out of reach from an actual demon trying to end me in my sleep.

Vague echoes of Shepard activating her cloak, and of her sniper rifle firing: I knew she was out there fighting.

Fighting for me, I felt her keeping me safe, wherever she was, so far beyond my perception.

Knowing that kept my automatic numbness away, letting me feel everything completely. Letting me love her through this dreamless dream. Letting me hold on for these two or so years throughout her deployment.

I could live with this, too.

'Ashley…I love you.'

Waking up the next morning, Miranda and I didn't need to speak.

She went to the guest room to shower. I showered in Shepard's bathroom. Just like before.

Our plans were simple enough:

Going to the Alliance base. Signing off on the transfer. Lying to Anderson about how I was doing. Lying to the team's face about understanding their grief over so-and-so's 'suicide'. Waiting for those Cerberus sleeper agents to steal Shepard's remains and get her pod off-world, then over to Lazarus Station. After Miranda confirmed everything was all set, she would invite the engineers here to the apartment, to set up that quantum entanglement communicator for us. After a few days, they would be finished.

And once those few days were up, the Illusive Man would finally answer all of my questions.

Miranda and I only talked once we made it up to the rooftop parking. She suggested that we take Shepard's car instead of hers. Since it would make the most sense. I didn't want to drive, but I made myself do it. There was something about the meaning behind driving Shepard's car that made me tear up a little as I went along. Having access to her home and passively being in that space was one thing. Having actual control like this and directing her car where I needed it to go was something else.

Once we reached the base, I parked in the indoor structure. Miranda stayed in the car. She promised to coordinate everything with the Illusive Man's agents as needed. I trusted her to get this done.

Walking through the building this time felt surreal. All as a reminder of my double-life now. All as reinforcement that I was a traitor to these soldiers I passed by, to these dedicated people who stopped to salute me. They saluted out of respect for who I was. They saluted out of respect for Shepard, knowing enough of how much she loved me. They saluted us both, together, even in death.

Somehow, I felt Shepard with me at my side, stronger.

As if I could have reached my hand out to hers next to mine.

This was definitely the last push I needed as I made it to Councilor Anderson's designated office.

I found him standing already, his hands clasped behind his back; next to the picture windows overlooking the San Diego Bay out there. That bright view of the city this sunny morning—it definitely didn't belong. Not today. Not after everything that had happened. Anderson probably thought the same. Staring out way past a thousand yards, I could only see his reflection in the glass from this angle. I could only hear the deep breaths he let out. The fatigue about him, the worry, the fears: I saw it all from where I was right by his desk.

Not wanting to interrupt, I couldn't bring myself to say anything, to pull him out of his thoughts.

Anderson reacted once he saw my reflection, turning around.

"Ashley!" he said, sort of forcing himself to smile. "I didn't see you there. My assistant told me you were on your way. I must have lost myself for a while…"

"It's okay, Sir," I told him. "I completely understand… It's been pretty rough."

Anderson agreed, "I'll say." He gestured to the chair next to me. "Please, sit."

We both sat down. We both shared in this pressure weighing us down.

But he was strong enough to lead us through: "I know things haven't been easy. I wish I could say it'll all get better soon. If only it were that simple." He watched me nod in agreement, fooled enough by my silence. "I heard you've made a decision about the burial service. I thought you might've needed some more time. I'm taking this as good news for you, how you're doing. So, how do you want to handle this?"

The explanation I prepared: "Honestly, after what happened last night, I think it'll be best if we just have the service here in San Diego instead. Everyone on my team…they're in bad shape. I don't want to drag this out. I want them to say goodbye to her. Even though I'm never going to let her go, they deserve this."

"I agree, actually. I heard about Dr. T'Soni as well. Knowing why she ended things…I can see why you're choosing to put your team first. I'm sorry you're dealing with this loss, too."

"Yeah, thanks…"

Anderson handed me the relevant datapads to sign. "Well, it's all there," he guided, watching as I read everything over. "Once you sign these, I'll have them sent right over to where they need to go. We'll have her pod moved to the proper facility until the service in a few days." Just like that, I signed my name, handing Shepard over. Just like that, Anderson smiled, and accepted my authority, handing the datapads over to his assistant, who promised to deliver them immediately. "Thank you, Ashley. We'll handle everything from here. I know this was a tough decision. You made the right call."

Staying believable, I stressed out, privately, wondering if even his assistant was a sleeper agent. Miranda did seem really confident about this. It seriously creeped me out to think that Cerberus had their hands in this level of galactic government, up this high, close enough to touch the first human councilor himself.

And he had no idea.

Sighing, Anderson sat back in his chair some more, reminiscing, "You know, Shepard always hated ceremonies. She didn't like the formalities, the people, or the celebration. She would say it was all fake; that she had better things to do than to get all dressed up for pomp-and-circumstance. During your promotion, when it looked like Shepard had been hiding in a corner with Joker the whole time…I almost cracked up laughing in front of everyone. That was very much her style, after all. Staying in the shadows. Not wanting to be seen. Even when she played such a big part in fighting for you."

I suddenly remembered something Sarah had mentioned to me—"Sir, is it true that the Alliance didn't give her a promotion after the battle? Yeah, she…was a Spectre. But she was a marine first and foremost. She deserved something from the military, too."

He gave a cryptic smile and said, "Believe me, we did reward her. It just wasn't public—as I knew she would've wanted." Really? Shepard had never told me about getting anything from the Alliance. "I do see what you mean, though. Now that she's passed on, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give her a posthumous reward instead. We can make this one public. What do you think we should do this time?"

"Shepard was way overqualified for her rank. Lieutenant-Commander. A junior officer. Wouldn't it make sense to give her a promotion?"

"Hmm, you're right… The higher-ups did slow her down quite a bit. All because she refused to make nice with them. Wasn't a team player. That sort of thing. Yet that's exactly why she was so effective in her specialization. I can argue her case for one last promotion, certainly. How about Commander?"

I smiled as much as I could. "Sounds perfect. Wouldn't ruin her brand as Commander Shepard."

Anderson managed to laugh a little. "I couldn't agree more," he settled, pulling up his terminal. "I'll put in a request with Alliance Command now. We'll have a meeting, discuss everything. I'm sure they'll be willing to…" A call came in to his omni-tool, blinking over his computer at the same time. "Hang on, Ashley. This should be about the transfer. Excuse me while I take this."

"No problem."

"Yes, hello," said Anderson. "Right, right, you had permission—" His face fell. Not wanting me to worry, he turned around in his seat, facing off to the side instead. "Say what now? You did what?" Even in his trained calm, I sensed he was about to burst at any moment now. "Whatever—never mind that! Where the hell are they going? Does anyone have eyes on them—?" He balled his powerful fist over the table, about to slam the surface. "No, I don't need to do that! You have your orders. And keep quiet. If this gets out, then we're all going under! Only call back once you learn something useful."

He hung up on them.

Sighing again in so much pain this time, Anderson couldn't look at me.

I should've been worried, but I was too focused on getting Shepard back.

I should've been scared, but I was even more afraid of living the rest of my life without Shepard in it.

"Sir? Is something wrong…?"

"Well…yes. I—I'm sorry, Ashley. I wish I had better news… If things don't improve, then I'll need to conduct an investigation. Do a full sweep. It sounds to me like we've been compromised."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"Someone's been waiting for you to do this. They took Shepard's pod with her remains. They took her, smuggled her off-base during this time we spent speaking… She's gone."

I pretended that Anderson was her, and looked at him like that.

Just like that.

Exactly as I hated. Exactly as I despised.

As strong as Anderson was, not even he could suffer keeping eye contact with me like this.

"I… I'm sorry," he repeated. "Honest to God, I have no idea how this happened. Don't know who it was, or why. Can't begin to speculate, either. And that makes it worse. I didn't know, Ashley. Had no clue. We're all completely blindsided. In all my years, I've never felt as downright useless as I do right now."

Deadened, done: "So you're basically telling me it's impossible to get her back at this point. There's nothing you can do. Nothing at all?"

Anderson couldn't respond to me.

He still wouldn't look at me, either.

That was enough.

Enough of an excuse to stand up and leave. To leave his office. To leave that silence behind; to leave Shepard's own surrogate father in the throes of his make-believe incompetence. This could've destroyed him. It could have, but I walked away regardless. I walked away, forcing myself to care more about my own selfish needs than anything he might've felt.

Stuck to my needs, I scowled as I passed through the base again. On my way to the team's complimentary living area, I felt myself repeating my stealth from last night. Despite Anderson's warnings about keeping the incident quiet, word had gotten around anyway, spreading quickly. Infecting everyone, that news made them scramble at a fast walk from place to place—sometimes jogging, a few times outright running if they were important enough and had to be somewhere. No one stopped to salute me. No one stayed in my path, fearing the deep scowl on my face; thinking they knew exactly why I looked so pissed.

Scornful in mind, I had made my choices.

I had made my decisions.

After the way the Alliance had treated me and my family before, they could burn, too.

After the shit they put granddad through before his exoneration, especially, I couldn't care anymore.

When it was a choice between having Shepard back, or staying loyal to the ones who'd constantly screwed me over before, everything was crystal clear to me.

I only hoped Shepard would agree whenever she found out what I did today.

Arriving to the team's shared space, I found that they were already out here: Garrus, Tali, and Wrex, all speaking to Dr. Chakwas, who frowned in worry as she explained the situation, looking grim. When I got here, they all took one look at me.

They understood.

"Ashley!" cried Tali, hurrying over here. "Ashley, Dr. Chakwas told us what happened!"

"Yeah, I heard about it, too," I answered, terse.

Hovering in place, Tali didn't know whether to hug me or keep her distance.

I couldn't know for sure, but before today, I'd gotten the feeling that she was mad at me for some reason. Mad at me for avoiding her; for staying on my own. Mad at me for needing my goddamned space after losing the love of my life. Like Tali honestly expected me to set my grief aside and let her be around me. Like she expected me to be there for her when I already had enough shit going on.

Looking at her now, with Tali unable to look back at me, I had my fucking answer.

She was about to break down in tears again, but I didn't care.

Saving the moment, Dr. Chakwas reached our side, with Garrus and Wrex following close behind. "Thank goodness you're here, Ashley," she said. "We've just heard the news. Everything happened so quickly… I can't believe it! One moment they had everything under control—the next it was all chaos!"

"This was definitely coordinated," mentioned Garrus. "There's no way anyone should have been able to get away with this. Not something on this scale. Any idea who it could've been?"

"None," worried Dr. Chakwas. "None whatsoever. That's why this is so frightening. The Alliance itself is compromised! We believed we were safe enough from this sort of thing. Now Shepard's gone…again."

Wrex sighed. "It's been one thing after another. Not sure how much more of this I can take…"

"No kidding," I muttered, just to say something.

Uneasy, everyone looked at me.

So uncertain, they had no idea how to respond. How to deal with this. How to deal with me.

Because if this emergency was real in my eyes—if I didn't have this under control—then this would've broken my mind and my heart right in half by now.

The others believed I only kept it together with my anger. With my disbelief.

Once again, that was enough.

Dr. Chakwas tried to console me, "Ashley, I'm so sorry… I won't lie. This is all a terrible nightmare. I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I'm worried for you. Very much so."

"Listen, I'm really numb to everything," I lied—sort of. "And I don't wanna stick around here in case there's more bad news. It's like Wrex said. I don't know how much more of this I can take, either."

"Of course… I understand. I can't blame you, either. Perhaps you should return home."

"Yeah…I'll do that," I replied. Looking to Tali, Wrex, and Garrus, I said to them, "If you still want to go to Thessia for Liara, that's fine with me. Maybe we can figure something out for Shepard after that. I just need to be alone for a while. I'm seriously past my limit."

"No problem," accepted Garrus. "I guess…we'll leave soon. Stay at Liara's place for a bit. I'll email you once we're on our way back. Will that work for you?"

"Okay. Sure."

Sour and unfinished, and so unresolved, I left them there, left them standing there, staring after me.

Passing through more chaos and mayhem here on-base, everyone was still mindful enough to let me through. They let me pass by without incident. They let me go without suspecting a thing.

And when I made it back to the parking lot, back to Shepard's car, I returned to this silence.

This silence, here with Miranda as her omni-tool's interface glowed through this faint dark.

This dark silence deepened as she looked at me in a reserved sort of awe.

Yet again, I had surpassed her expectations.

Breaking the silence, Miranda spoke to me, gently, "Ashley, I have a visual on Shepard's pod. Do you need to confirm that this is her? For your own peace of mind." I leaned over to her, closer, eyes fixed on the live feed through her omni-tool. There I saw a handful of people standing up around the pod, each of them holding onto the overhead railings as their transport took them away. "Open it again. Show her."

Dressed in Alliance uniforms as their disguises, the agents opened the pod.

All over again, I saw Shepard in her N7 armor. That cracked armor, holding strong. That determined armor keeping her safe, keeping her remains together. Charred and burned, but still somehow unbroken, she was there, dead to the world. Dead to everyone. Dead to my eyes, but not my heart.

I could only nod once before looking away.

Looking away and staring out to this parking lot past these tinted windows; wishing I could darken my own sight if it would help me forget. If it would give me some kind of mirage, or an illusion to hold on to instead. Crystal clear as my sight still was, I couldn't even blink this back. Not on my own. Not until I heard Miranda ordering her people to continue on. Not until I listened to her tell them to get Shepard off-world, immediately, and to transport her to Lazarus Station without delay. Not until I understood the implications of her next orders, of how she told her agents to go off the grid once they were done.

I swallowed all of this down.

Shepard was just deployed. She was off to war.

I had to hold on. I had to keep believing in us. I had to be patient and wait for her to come back home.

All done with that now, Miranda closed her omni-tool. Still reserved, still in awe, she stared at me for a little while longer. Maybe she had misunderstood me before, before she knew my story. As powerful as she was, she understood my value now. She knew what I was capable of.

Miranda then asked me, still gentle, "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I just want to go home."

"Then let's go."

Listening to her say that felt so much like a salve, cooling off enough of this heated tension deep in my skin.

Starting Shepard's car again, taking off from the base—I knew that I wouldn't be completely okay again.

For now, though, having Miranda's support was enough. She was more than good enough for me.

A few days later, with the quantum entanglement communicator all set up in the living room, it was time.

Miranda stood by my side as all went to black.

And then the stars opened up to the absolute red of a supergiant, up close:

A lone silhouette before that pulsing red, glimmering more along the sheen of the glossy surface of the cold floor—the Illusive Man sat in his minimalist chair, facing me. Like sitting in the dead center of that dying star at his back, the complete view of that burning sphere reflected off of the floor under the slickness of his shoes, underneath his legs crossed in ease and comfort. All-black except for the white of his unbuttoned dress shirt and the trims along his sleeves, his finely-threaded suit smoldered in that starlight. Angled just right, he wore his short, light brown hair waved and slicked back in richness and superiority, the shape and color hazed from the molten heat behind him.

Glowing more, the slightly-aged angles and mild wrinkles of his face shined and shadowed in that red.

Glowing differently, the focus of his eyes on me shined in a familiar-looking eerie blue, controlled.

Lighting cinders, he inhaled from his cigarette, before exhaling a cloud of smoke around him, billowing as purpose, all on purpose.

The Illusive Man spoke to us on that exhale: "Lieutenant Williams. Miranda. It's good to see you both here at long last." Tapping his cigarette's ashes into the tray along his armrest, he went on, "This meeting has been in the works for quite a while. I'm relieved that everything's gone according to plan so far. We had to switch gears after losing Commander Shepard to the Collector attack. And then once again after Dr. T'Soni's death. But the changes have clearly been in our favor. This talk of ours had to happen. One way or another."

Miranda told him, "Absolutely, Sir. The Alliance is still conducting their investigation into the disappearance of Shepard's remains. I've told all of our agents at the Coronado base to go off the grid before returning to us. Our intelligence on that location has gone completely dark. But I'm positive that the payoff will be worth it. More than worth it to have this opportunity. This is a victory for humanity."

"I agree wholeheartedly with your assessment, Miranda," replied the Illusive Man. As he smoked again, the glow of his eyes found me through that fog. "And we have you to thank for this, Lieutenant. I understand that your primary concern is Shepard's return. I can assure you that the Lazarus Project will proceed as planned, now that we've secured her pod at our facility. Still, you should know that your actions in getting rid of T'Soni—however accidental—were critically important to reaching this point. Moving forward, we can proceed with the truth. Not the lies you believed in before."

Overwhelmed by all of this, I had to make myself respond, "Right, those lies. We all thought that Liara was the one keeping Shepard safe. Seemed like it was obvious, anyway. I never had a reason to question it. So when Miranda told me that I was the one this whole time, I almost couldn't believe it."

The Illusive Man appeared to sympathize with me. "It's reasonable that you and your team would reach those conclusions. I don't have confirmation on this, so I need to ask you. When you spoke with Matriarch Benezia's disciple, Shiala, as well as Saren Arterius, the Ilos VI, and Sovereign itself, how did they describe the process? What did they say that led you to believe it was Dr. T'Soni?"

"They all pretty much said the same thing," I remembered. "That it was someone strengthening Shepard's willpower. Like she already had the potential in her, and she just needed someone to unlock it in her. Like that strength was some kind of protection from the indoctrination itself. Then they talked about another Cipher, from the Protheans, from Liara—how that was what unlocked everything. The one person who said something sort of different was Shiala, after the Thorian on Feros. But Liara had a thing going with Shepard back then… It only made sense that it was her."

"That would indeed make the most sense. I'm aware that the two of them shared a connection through the asari bonding process. Is this why you believed it was her?"

"Yeah, it was the main reason… Never crossed my mind that I could compete with that sort of thing."

"You underestimated yourself, Williams," said the Illusive Man—encouraging, empowering. "Just as the Alliance underestimated you. Just as Dr. T'Soni did in your rivalry with her. In the end, her hubris got the better of her. You had already given Shepard the power she needed, back on Eden Prime. T'Soni's involvement was merely a means to an end. She's no longer useful. We can move on without her."

"But…how? Miranda said something about the Prothean beacon, the one Shepard protected me from. Why was it such a big deal?"

"We have proof that you shaped Shepard's capabilities in that moment, when she pulled you away from the beacon's hold. You both came into contact with Prothean technology, setting the stage for the rest to play out as it did. When she overloaded the beacon, Shepard received more than the Protheans' warnings about the Reapers in her visions. She received the knowledge, however unconscious, about this very process. And with that knowledge, you unknowingly transferred your own desires to her, both conscious and unconscious. The strength of your feelings for her. Your devotion. There is great power in that strength, in your emotions. All Shepard needed was a way to unlock that power, in order to fully strengthen her own will against Reaper indoctrination. That is where T'Soni came in."

"So you're telling me the beacon gave Shepard the strength of my feelings for her, as the foundation of her new powers. My actual emotions helped her against the Thorian. Against Sovereign, too… And that Liara just unlocked that power I gave to Shepard, through the bond they had. All as a one-and-done deal. Shepard doesn't need Liara or their bond anymore from now on. She only needs me…to keep believing in her?"

"That is correct."

He sounded more than confident about this, too.

After sitting with this truth for over a week now, I could finally accept it.

Then I remembered: "There's one other thing, though. When we talked to Vigil on Ilos, it said that only people with alternative lifestyles could do this. You said that this started on Eden Prime. Shepard and I definitely didn't have anything like this back then. How do you explain that?"

"Normally, that is indeed the case," replied the Illusive Man. "The most successful Protheans did have those sorts of relationships with one another. This wasn't always true. Sometimes, a deep connection between superior and subordinate was sufficient. In your case, you had an agreement with Shepard as your leader and you as a soldier on her team. Spoken word through her orders to you, and your consent to follow her will—this was enough to lay the foundations for the rest."

I believed that.

Because even back then, and ever since that day, whenever Shepard would give me orders to follow, I would feel that high. That trance. That type of subspace I loved so much, helping me focus. Helping me push myself. Making me stronger.

"You said you have proof," I brought up. "If you didn't know what Shiala and the others said about the process, then how'd you figure all of this out? I believe what you're saying and everything. I have to see this for myself."

"We figured you would want to know. Miranda?"

Prepared already, Miranda used her omni-tool to forward me a few emails. "I kept a close watch on most communications between you and your team," she mentioned. "Aside from your chat room, I also took stock of any email exchanges I could get my hands on. I wasn't able to obtain much directly from your Alliance emails. Anything sent from outside of your network, I was able to access. Take a look."

Reading over what she sent, this was from Dr. Michel to Dr. Chakwas, replying to her questions during the hours Shepard had spent knocked out in a coma. Right after Eden Prime. Dr. Chakwas wanted to know if Dr. Michel knew anything about Prothean beacons. And if not, then she was curious to know if Dr. Michel had ever experienced anything of a sixth sense, in being able to pick up on someone's mind being strengthened somehow.

They exchanged messages about this, back and forth, until Shepard brought Liara back from Therum.

Dr. Chakwas then told Dr. Michel about the sudden change: how Shepard seemed to be unlocked, with her potential soaring well past what she could've ever expected. And she discovered even more once we all got back from Feros, after Shepard had resisted the Thorian's thrall with only a killer headache to show for it—all while Kaidan had fallen victim to that thrall instead, just like anyone else would have done.

Out of everything Dr. Chakwas had written in these emails, this jumped out at me:

'Could it be that the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime was what blessed Shepard with her newfound capabilities? Or some type of other phenomenon linked to the beacon. That was when this all started, after all. Once the commander rescued Liara on Therum, everything appeared to open to the universe for her, completely unguarded. I do believe that this has somehow brought out the unknown mysteries of our collective unconscious as an organic species. As if her very mind has become an extension of her intentions, her willpower, and her perception, and not the other way around. I will need to ask Shepard about this at some point. Hopefully when she's feeling more receptive to my medical advice.'

She was spot-on.

With her so-called sixth sense as Shepard's doctor, she knew.

The Illusive Man added, "That's not all. We can confirm from preliminary work on Shepard's remains that you are the one who protected her. We've also cross-referenced our findings with the data we were able to uncover from Sovereign's wreckage. Our scientists created a visual simulation of the process for you, to help clear up any doubts you might still have. Allow me to show you what we found."

Pressing a few buttons along the armrest of his chair, the Illusive Man brought up a glowing, translucent schematic of Sovereign on top of the Citadel Tower that day. Zooming inside the Reaper's form, he found Shepard there, her silhouette glimmering in invisibility from her tactical cloak. Kneeling in place inside of Sovereign, this was the exact moment when she had stopped, suffering the strongest hit from Sovereign trying to indoctrinate her, to stop her from reaching its weak point.

Pausing the moment here, the Illusive Man illustrated, "You recall that she could have easily failed here. Anyone else would have. And Shepard would've done so, if not for the connection the two of you share. Even though she wasn't consciously aware of the truth at the time, she had a feeling that it was you. That was enough to help her pull through."

Showing more of Shepard's cloaked form, closer, this visual of her head showed an actual color.

"We'll use blue as an example. Blue is for T'Soni's influence. Blue for water, as a representation of her element within Shepard's mind. Let's see what would've happened if hers was the dominant influence at the time instead. Meaning if the two of them had continued on together, leaving you out of the picture as much as possible. If Shepard had no reason to believe in you at all."

Pressing play, the blue glow of Shepard's head shined forth through the simulation. I watched this virtual example of her struggle, struggling so hard as she gripped her head in sheer agony, about to fall…but then she didn't. Heaving for breath, Shepard forced herself to keep going. She crawled through the hallways, carrying that hoverboard that Saren had with him before. Crawling through, she slowed down a lot, trying to keep her head, trying to focus. But somehow, she made it through to the chamber with those overhead controls.

Still on the ground, curled up there, Shepard kept gripping her head, clutching at her skull to make it all stop. The pain kept going and going—getting worse once that loud, thunderous blare sounded from Sovereign itself, mocking her to obey. Shepard couldn't stand up. She couldn't activate the controls just above her. Instead of falling victim to the indoctrination, she resisted the only way she could: Shepard grabbed her sidearm, aimed her pistol at her head…and shot herself dead.

Before my eyes could start stinging too much, the Illusive Man reset everything, saving me from that sight.

Here was Shepard again, cloaked and brought back to that moment in the hallway, still kneeling there.

"Now we'll switch to red." More button presses, and Shepard's head, her mind within glowed a fiery color this time. "Red is for your influence, Williams. For fire, as the one and only representation of your element within Shepard's mind. This is exactly what it was at the time, unchanged. Let's watch."

And then everything played out exactly as it had before:

Shepard only grabbed the wall nearby, clawing at it, once, before the red of her mind enflamed, stronger. She carried on without issues. She made her way through the hallways, past those husks lying around everywhere. She reached the chamber with ease. She pulled down on those controls, even in the middle of Sovereign blaring at her in warning, as a last-ditch effort. She disabled its shields and got the hell out of there. She escaped back to the Citadel and down to the Normandy where Joker had caught her, while the Citadel fleets had finished off Sovereign, all as a major victory—mission accomplished.

It all made perfect sense to me.

I remembered Shiala describing all of this. How the taste of Shepard's so-called indoctrination was elevated, but in chaos back then. It was of the gods. As if the person holding onto her mind viewed Shepard with that same greatness, lifting her with the very determination of those gods. Meaning it was me, all this time. I had always thought of Shepard as a god, an organic god, just in how much I admired her, how strongly I loved her. Even in how much I wanted her to myself, I wished I could've protected her from outside influences, from being tempted by anyone other than me. I had always needed her this badly.

Sickening, desperate…like a child. Juvenile. Like Sovereign had said.

Plus, back on the Citadel, Saren had admitted to trying to throw Shepard off. To set her down the wrong path. He'd tried everything he could to fool us into believing that it was Liara: making her seem so important, all while knowing that it was a lie. If anything, he had to have known that it was me. Right from Eden Prime.

Saren had intended on Shepard falling exactly as she had in that simulation, all by believing in those lies.

He'd probably even had Benezia in on it, too.

Was I supposed to be that lesser tool Benezia had talked about?

Did she know, and she wanted her daughter to have all the glory, no matter the cost? Or was that just Saren's influence messing with her head?

Either way, Shepard had somehow known better. She'd had a feeling that it was me. She'd had a feeling, even if it was an unconscious thing. She'd gone with her instincts instead of what was in front of her.

Shepard had believed in me, too…

The Illusive Man said, "Even with all the facts we've collected, there are still a few unknowns. It's perfectly understandable that you conflated Dr. T'Soni's role with this same protection. We have a hypothesis about this."

I looked to Miranda, asking, "The first time the three of us talked, you said something about Shepard's sanity, didn't you?"

"That's right," she confirmed. "It seems that T'Soni did more than just open up the powers you gave to Shepard back on Eden Prime. From what I could tell, Shepard's personality changed drastically in a very short time. I feared what would happen if the two of them were ever separated somehow."

"Are you still afraid of that? I mean, once Shepard's back…"

The Illusive Man summarized, "Dr. T'Soni will not be there when Shepard returns. And we'll all be better for it. We won't have to worry about Shepard trying to hold on to those lies, possibly forsaking you in the process. She'll be able to continue her success against the Reapers once they arrive in force. But Miranda disagrees."

Defensive, Miranda countered, "Sir, I've told you—it's because Shepard is bound to be unstable without the asari. We can't know if she'll be able to proceed with the mission. It would've been better for Shepard to stay as she was: with T'Soni's support, and with Ashley continuing to believe in her for the fight. The three of them would have needed to find a balance and cooperate with one another…"

The Illusive Man rested his head in his hand, smoking again; sighing out that exhale, almost exasperated.

Because he and I both knew—there was no way that would've worked.

Not with me being one more argument away from smearing Liara's guts over the walls. Not with her being one desperate attempt away from shoving me out of the picture completely.

Not in the long-term.

"Miranda, you already know that would've failed," lectured the Illusive Man. "There's no need to keep deluding yourself about that impossible possibility. Once Shepard sees what's at stake here, she'll let T'Soni go. We can't waste time coddling her like a child. So I need you on board with this. If the Lazarus Project reveals any serious problems, we can only work with what we have left. This is for the best. Find another solution."

"Understood…"

"Lieutenant Williams. I expected much of this information would come as a shock to you. I'm glad that you've embraced the truth willingly. Seeing your strengths and capabilities for myself, I've come to appreciate the tragedy of your life. How so many others spent far too much time doubting you, thinking themselves above you, simply because of your station in life. Shepard no doubt saw your potential from very early on. She sought to bring it out, all by believing in you, just as you believe in her. I'm pleased to say that she's succeeded."

I wasn't expecting that at all. "Thanks… It helps to hear that. Even from someone like you."

Smirking a bit, he said, "I'm equally pleased to see that we understand one another. Commander Shepard will be back. I guarantee you. When she's restored, we'll be sending her after the Collectors as soon as possible. Despite your many grievances with Cerberus, you've shown a willingness to serve under Shepard's command again. I have confirmation from Miranda on this, but I'd also like to hear it from you directly. When the time comes, will Shepard be able to count on your support in the fight? Will she be able to rely on you once more as her second-in-command?"

"No doubt about it," I replied, determined. "I'm setting aside my problems with Cerberus. I have to. You know that Shepard's everything to me. I can't hide that. Can't deny it, either. Maybe that makes me vulnerable to you, but I'm willing to take my chances. I'll be there at Shepard's side once she's back."

"That's exactly what I like to hear. You have my word: I will dedicate any and all resources to bringing Shepard back. When she returns, I'll do what I can to help you and Shepard's team end the Collectors, and the Reaper threat. And when this is all over—when the Reapers are defeated once and for all—the galaxy will know that it was humanity who saved them. Two humans, defying their limitations to become as the gods themselves. The ultimate goal of Cerberus is the advancement and preservation of humanity. So this is certainly a cause I can support."

Miranda also promised me, "You have my support as well, Ashley. The next two years or so will no doubt be hard on you. I'll be working around the clock to ensure that Shepard comes back as she was before, with only the best improvements for her existing implants. I wasn't particularly enthused about these beliefs, putting our faith in fairy tales…but I suppose it's all we have."

"It is kind of surreal," I mentioned. "Turning someone into a god like this."

The Illusive Man was wise enough to point out: "Our gods are whatever we want them to be. They're driven by our faith, our beliefs—not strictly based in scientific fact. You are religious yourself, Lieutenant Williams. You ought to know what it is I mean." I understood completely. He gave me a ghost of a smile. "You and I will speak again after the next mission begins. Miranda will be in touch, updating you on Shepard's progress. Good luck with your N7 Soldier training, Williams. We'll need you at your very best for the fight ahead. I trust that you won't let us down."

Spending the rest of the holidays with Miranda like this, through Christmas and New Year's and a little after, I saw how lost I would've been without her.

After this time, I was pretty sure I could start my N7 training and do well, knowing that I had Miranda to lean on over the next two years. She could trust me, too—in her own ways, at least—while she worked on the Lazarus Project, updating me on her progress the whole way.

For now, Miranda promised to stay at home with me until my team returned to Earth. They were already gone, off to Thessia for Liara's funeral with her family and colleagues. I was perfectly fine waiting for them to get back here a few days after New Year's, as they said they would. I had the Alliance's permission for us to go visit the plot of grass where Shepard's remains would've been buried, if they hadn't lost her. So the others agreed that we could use that time to say goodbye to her instead, to have something instead of nothing.

I didn't expect us to have a full-on memorial or anything. Shepard wouldn't have wanted us to make a big deal like that. Just sitting there in quiet reflection, remembering her. Maybe saying a few words. That would work.

Miranda would be there, too. In the background. Unseen for most of the time.

I already planned on bringing her over once the others left; once we all said our goodbyes to each other.

Even though she and Shepard had never met before, I wanted Miranda to have that moment anyway.

She deserved it.

Until then, we mostly spent our time watching TV. Or Miranda would watch me play Shepard's video games. If we weren't in the same room, Miranda was sometimes busy cooking for me, for us, more than willing to take on that responsibility. Or she was in the guest room, sitting at the office desk, working on her terminal. Getting the last of her Lazarus resources together, gathering the rest of her staff for the project, and making sure her scientists, engineers, and other colleagues had everything under control with the rest of their preliminary work and preparations.

Sleeping in the same bed together helped us both.

We weren't lonely or anything. We had each other.

At the same time, though, our temptations kept flaring up. I wanted Miranda so badly—for her to make me feel everything she'd said during our first conversation. I wanted her…and it was worse because I wasn't numb, because I bled with my feelings so openly, without holding anything back. I definitely thought about just going for it. I really, really did. But then my period started as a wake-up call, as a reminder that I wasn't late. I remembered all over again: the things I wanted with Shepard, and the life I'd spent so long dreaming about with her. So, when I thought about it that way…I couldn't betray her.

I wouldn't let myself do anything with Miranda, aside from us holding each other in our sleep.

I wouldn't let myself do anything more, but I never stopped wanting her.

Maybe this was why she'd said I wasn't serious about it, before. Back at the 94. She knew better.

I appreciated her even more for that.

A few nights before Christmas Eve, Miranda surprised me: she actually played one of Shepard's video games when I asked her to, when I said I wanted to watch her play for once. She insisted that she wasn't a gamer, and that she would be terrible at it. But she did it for me anyway, knowing that it made me happy to see her step out of her comfort zone like this.

I settled on one of Shepard's stealth games, thinking it would be easier for her. Sneaking around as an assassin in the shadows, hiding in plain sight in the crowds, and killing targets out in elaborate set pieces across the world—I figured Miranda would like that kind of thing.

I started cracking up once I saw how bad she was.

Miranda kept getting spotted by the guards everywhere. She couldn't blend in with the crowds. She couldn't kill anyone without being detected. Then whenever she got caught and had to enter combat with her swords, she would spam the attack button without defending herself, without healing. And then she'd end up dying.

She wasn't even trying to learn. She was just flustered, frustrated.

"Oh, goddamnit!" cursed Miranda, once the game over screen popped up for like the tenth time. "How was I supposed to get past all of those guards? They were everywhere!"

I tried not to keep laughing at her. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe you were supposed to find another route or something. It's pretty open-ended."

Miranda complained more, "Maybe… I'd prefer some actual structure. This is too much for me."

"Let me see her stats," I said, taking the controller back. "Wow… The last time she played, Shepard beat this game in less than a few hours. And without killing anyone except for the main targets, or getting spotted. During her longer playthroughs, she found every secret and discovered every path to assassinate the main targets. She learned everything inside and out."

"Well, she must have cheated," justified Miranda. "Can't I do that? Find some way to hack the game?"

I laughed. "No, you can't! You're supposed to actually play it!"

Miranda stood up and left. "Fine. Whatever. I'm going to find something to make for us. Have fun on your own."

While she went over to the kitchen, I kept smiling, glad that she'd at least made an effort for me.

I closed out this game and opened up that N7 shooter I'd watched Shepard play before.

Not long after I did, I got a message from someone on her friends list.

I smiled more once I saw that it was from Infiltrait0rN7, asking me—"Game?"

Knowing what I knew of them, this was one of Miranda's colleagues. So they knew that it was me. I went ahead and wrote back, warning that I was new. They offered to teach me how to play, starting on the beginner Bronze difficulty with just the two of us. Then they invited me to a party. I joined up and entered their lobby, finding them on their regular old geth infiltrator character, tried and true.

Shepard was already on her male quarian infiltrator from the last time she'd played for me.

Not feeling too confident about playing the same class, I scrolled through the soldier characters instead.

I grinned over the krogan soldier, remembering that time Shepard and her friend had played in that all-krogan party, having a blast together. But then the N7 Destroyer caught my eye. He was super bulky with his mostly-black T5-V battlesuit. He did look really strong with his multi-frag grenades and missile launcher. Turning into a turret with this devastator mode thing, with more weapon damage, better clip extensions, and a higher rate of fire…that did sound interesting.

So I picked this N7 Destroyer, looking over his gear. He was already at max level, and Shepard had left a really strong assault rifle and shotgun on him. She'd spent his ability points how she wanted him, too. I didn't want to mess with anything. I wanted to play the character the way she had.

I actually wasn't that bad at first, despite hating the limited mobility on this guy. Having watched Shepard play so much, I'd picked up on a lot of things without realizing it. Her friend seemed happy to revive me whenever I did get my ass kicked, usually after I got too cocky about my odds. I enjoyed having backup like this. Being able to trust in someone, even though I didn't really know them.

At some point, Miranda came back after putting the food in the oven. She sat back down at my side, watching me play this time. I wasn't even paying attention to the enemy type until she asked about it:

"Who are you fighting, Ashley? Some type of enhanced supersoldier units? They look quite coordinated with one another."

I took a look at the centurion I had just gunned down, replying, "Oh, yeah. It's Cerberus."

"Cerberus?!" sputtered Miranda. "But…we don't fight like this! Not out in the open. We specialize in intelligence and subterfuge, as I'm sure you know by now. We don't have these types of armies!"

I shrugged, remembering what Shepard had said to me about the geth: "It's just a game, Miranda."

Scoffing, she muttered, "Even so, I don't like it. This is a gross misrepresentation of how we run things…"

I figured now was the best time to find out, "So, why'd you join Cerberus in the first place? I've been meaning to ask. I can tell you care a lot about humanity and everything. You like being in charge of these important jobs for us. Is that it, though?"

Letting her guard down some more, Miranda kept watching me play, revealing: "This goes back to my childhood. My history. I wasn't actually born as a person, as you and Shepard were. My father created me with his DNA. He was completely egomaniacal. I wasn't someone with actual feelings. Not in his eyes. I wasn't his daughter. He created me to be perfect, to be a part of his legacy. I ran away from him. Cerberus recruited me when I needed them most."

I was about to put the controller down, to listen to her more, to look at her properly—

Miranda pushed the controller back into my hand, insisting without words that I keep playing.

She continued on, "My father used to donate generously to Cerberus. That's how I was able to contact the Illusive Man. He respects my value and what I have to offer. He helped me, took me in when I had nothing. I owe him my life. He's earned my loyalty. So, by default, I'm also loyal to the organization. I have everything I could've wanted. I have a near-infinite amount of resources at my fingertips. Cerberus doesn't hold me back. If I want to do something, they give me permission to do it. It isn't complicated."

I accepted that Miranda definitely didn't want to talk about her father in detail, her upbringing.

"Okay, then how do you deal with Cerberus' reputation? Human supremacists and all. You got along with Liara just fine before you found out who she really was. Or was that an act?"

"It wasn't an act," said Miranda with ease. "I don't like that too many people join Cerberus out of simple racism and xenophobia. I do my best to keep my distance from those co-workers of mine. In fact, I've gone the extra mile to vet everyone in the Lazarus Cell—extensively—on these grounds. I can't have anyone working on Shepard with me if they hold those views. She wouldn't approve otherwise. At all."

"No, she wouldn't…"

"Besides, I don't condone everything that Cerberus has done. I'm only responsible for my own duties."

"Does the Illusive Man condone everything, then? Even the worst of the worst that goes on?"

Miranda explained, "I know what you're thinking, Ashley. Those were rogue, out-of-control splinter cells that tainted our reputation. I can assure you: before I was assigned as head of the Lazarus Project, I was in charge of visiting those splinter cells and terminating them once they became too inconvenient. All on the Illusive Man's orders. He knows that our people don't always get it right. But he also won't tolerate the negative consequences when that happens. He and I both want to do what's best for humanity."

Something told me that Miranda was out of her league on this.

She couldn't seriously think that Cerberus were the good guys, masquerading as terrorists or whatever else.

Because it sounded to me like she trusted the Illusive Man more than anything. His word was law. Those rogue cells that had supposedly tainted their reputation were easy scapegoats, sure. Miranda owed Cerberus and the Illusive Man her life. So of course she'd turn a blind eye to the worst shit they had going on. Or she'd handwave it away and act like none of that stuff represented the organization at all.

Miranda must have gone through a hell of a time if Cerberus had been her only real lifeline.

Maybe I could relate. Just not in all the same ways.

"'Too inconvenient', huh?" I questioned instead.

"In any event," she went on, "I truly believe that Cerberus are the realists among us. We're willing to make the hard choices in a hard galaxy. The Alliance is far too formal, bogged down by their own indecision and such a need to be decent, playing by the rules. They wasted too much time sitting and waiting for our seat on the Council until you came along. We can't afford to play nice when our very survival is at stake."

That almost sounded like a huge contradiction to me.

Then again, I was as much of a contradiction as Miranda was, as the Illusive Man was, if not more.

I had already traded away my morals for my selfishness instead. So I had no room to complain here.

No matter those contradictions, I felt myself growing attached to Miranda anyway. Like…how she was always there for me, always willing to spend this kind of time with me. I could tell she wasn't exactly a normal person, even with her background. Maybe she wasn't used to this sort of thing: chilling and hanging out for fun, to forget. She found her own enjoyment in it for me. She found a way to relax for me, with me. Whatever else lingered between us, she chose not to mention it. And I kept quiet, too.

Still, leaning on Miranda emotionally like this—I knew that we had already tipped the scales here.

This definitely wasn't just a friendship.

But she wasn't my girlfriend, either.

Especially with the way we looked at each other from time to time, her pupils dilating whenever she saw me.

I wanted to know Miranda's body as much as she claimed to know my mind. I wanted to feel her, to help her relax even more. I wanted to excite her. I wanted to see for myself that everything still worked with me. That I wasn't broken or anything. That even though I wasn't the same, I would make it through.

I could only find glimpses of my hopes whenever I woke up in her arms every morning.

I could only feel them, barely, through the lingering power of my feelings for Shepard, overpowering and eclipsing all the rest. I felt them more whenever I was alone in the shower, forcing myself to stay quiet while I got off to her. So fucking desperate, I ended up crying every single time, wishing I could pull her back from the fabric of reality itself, to bring her back home way sooner.

With that pain, I forced myself to stay present with it, in the moment.

I refused to dissociate.

I refused to numb myself; to forget too much.

I refused to let go of my faith and have my way with Miranda instead, giving in. As stunning as she was, and as fascinating as she was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Because I knew that Shepard was coming back. So if I gave in and messed around with Miranda, that would've been cheating…right?

I felt bad enough about this emotional relationship she and I already had going on.

I didn't need to add to that by giving in…no matter how crazy she made me sometimes.

When Christmas was finally here, I didn't even have the heart to go visit Dad's grave. I'd planned on it. But I was too ashamed. Too worried that he judged me for what I'd done.

I just stayed home with Miranda during the day instead.

I did surprise her again, with a gift this time, bringing things back to the obvious: a rare print collection of some of Shepard's sexy fashion magazines. I picked this specifically as a little hint that I knew about Miranda's past. How serious her feelings for Shepard probably were. Knowing, or not knowing, Miranda had actually smiled as she held the magazines in her hands. I saw the way her eyes shined in the daylight pouring inside the apartment, almost like she was about to cry. She wouldn't let herself go that far. Not in front of me.

Her reaction was still sweet, though.

That evening, we finally left the house for something other than buying bare necessities.

I took Miranda to the Cheesecake Factory down in Fashion Valley for us to have dinner together. She agreed to pay for us as her Christmas gift to me—and she promised to buy me a whole cheesecake to take back home with us.

I wasn't a Spectre, so I couldn't get that same table Shepard had reserved for the two of us before. The manager was still nice enough to let us right in, as a favor to me. And I really liked seeing this side of Miranda while we had dinner here, with her lighting up some more as we talked about whatever. I even got to see her laugh a little, which was pretty rare. She mostly told me about her twin sister Oriana, what she was like. I could tell how much Miranda cared about protecting her sister from their father.

This joyous high stayed with us over the next week…until New Year's Eve.

Miranda wasn't in the mood to go out for the occasion. I didn't feel like going out, either. Not with those crowds outside, everywhere.

We sat together on the couch, in the living room, with the blinds of the windows open to the late of night. As it got closer and closer to midnight, I turned off the game I'd been playing. Miranda and I just sat together in silence. Thinking. Listening to each other breathe. We were way too high up to hear anyone down in the city. And the walls of Shepard's apartment were strong enough to keep out any noise from her neighbors out in the hall or next door to us.

We knew that we only had a couple of more days left until the team came back.

We knew that we'd have to go to Shepard's not-funeral once everyone was here.

We knew that we'd have to say goodbye to each other not long after that.

For as long as Shepard was…deployed, I knew that I wasn't alone.

Miranda was my sanctuary.

I was the same for her.

We both knew that when we looked at each other this time, with just a few more minutes to midnight.

Moving closer to me, Miranda stopped herself before she could get too close. Too close for her own comfort, but not necessarily too close for mine. I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't talk to her about what I struggled with, and she wouldn't ask me to say anything about it. She was perceptive enough to know the truth by now.

She seemed to stop here for more reasons than I could see right then and there.

Keeping her face a breath away from mine, Miranda let out a shallow exhale. Sweet from the champagne we'd indulged in earlier, sweeter from her attention on me like this—she restrained herself, all for so many reasons, and all for me.

But Miranda still said, "Ashley, don't you think…that this is getting to be too much?"

Genuinely not seeing the same thing, I asked her, "What do you mean?"

"Even though Shepard chose you, I get the feeling you don't quite know your own strengths. Your own potential. Who you could be for someone like me. The way I want you—it's downright depraved, and you don't even see it. You haven't picked up on a single thing. Have you?"

"No… I know we've really swept this under the rug. I figured it wasn't that serious for you."

"That isn't true…"

Throbbing, aching, I gave in a bit with my offer: "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Miranda wouldn't let herself be that vulnerable with me.

"I don't think we should," she whispered, so sweet. "Not in that kind of detail. I only want you to understand that this isn't about love. I'm not here to take her place. I could never do that. I think, at this point, my heart is at its maximum capacity. If things were different, then maybe that wouldn't be the case. I'm mainly sharing this to keep you from worrying."

"Well, I'm glad you told me," I replied, smiling a little. "I'm pretty sure it's the same on my end. I like being close to you, Miranda. I get that we both need this. Even if it's…on the borderline with something else. I am trying not to worry about it. So I want us to stay right where we are. Unless things change."

Miranda smiled a bit, too, accepting, "All right, then. We'll do that."

Somewhere beyond the windows, the city's skies brightened with those crackling lights from the fireworks.

Miranda's eyes lit up with those colors: of red, blue, violet, all dazzling her sight so focused on me.

Giving in only a bit, only a little bit: Miranda held one side of my face with her hand, gentle and unassuming. The other side, she settled her lips over, far enough away from mine. Far enough away, but still so close in the way she heated me in this thickness of her, indulging in me and pampering me, dulcet in succulence. Enchanting me with this, seducing me with this single taste, Miranda gave me her experience without experience. Almost off-balance as she was, since this was new for her, with me—she stayed here in this fantasy at midnight, going on and on without overstepping. Relaxing me as much as she set me off. Needing me as much as she denied herself, and as much as she respected my wishes.

We somehow stayed locked in this time, in this moment as the next days passed, back to the present.

Back to this last promise I had to keep for the others, for my team.

Meeting everyone here at this reserved plot of grass at the Alliance graveyard, we found Shepard's unmarked grave in this spot. Where she would have been buried. Where she would have lay to rest if I hadn't intervened, if Cerberus hadn't intervened.

Such a cloudy day, too. Not even the skies agreed with her being gone like this.

I made myself sit here on the grass, staying in this moment with everyone: Wrex, Tali, Garrus, and even Joker now that he'd come back around, after he'd joined the others on Thessia when they'd said their goodbyes to Liara. I wished that Kaidan could've been with us, too. He was still in the middle of a bunch of operations, back-to-back. We couldn't reach him at all. His doctor did promise that Kaidan would catch up on all the news as soon as he was well enough.

Until then, it was only the five of us here.

Miranda was practically in the shadows, watching us from afar. Waiting her turn, so patient.

Knowing that this was the last time we'd all be together for a while, I set my grudges and other feelings aside.

I had Tali sit with me, here in my lap while I held her close. Still raw and full of emotions, Tali held on to me—sniffling, crying while she hid away against my chest; not wanting the others to see her through her mask. Garrus, Joker, and Wrex sat around us, just nearby. We stayed together like this without a word. Only the occasional sounds of someone else sniffling, someone other than Tali. No matter how oblivious they all were to me, to what I'd actually done, we remained here in our unity.

I thought back to Eden Prime, when Shepard and I had first met. Back when she'd been surprisingly neutral toward me. Back when she'd refused to let anything more show. Maybe, if I had looked closely enough, I could've spotted the truth, even then. But she was so closed-off. So unreadable. So unyielding, and she wanted things to stay that way. Trying to see anything from her perspective, her point of view at the time was next to impossible. It just wasn't going to happen.

Thanks to Liara, she did start to change over time. She did start to open up. She did start to be herself.

I accepted that this was the way things had to be. Even if I had made a move on Shepard earlier, again, it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't in the cards. That wasn't our fate, our destiny together.

This was our story now—mine with hers.

Everyone remembered Shepard exactly as I saw her: the only person in this galaxy who could get the job done, no matter the cost.

Commander Shepard was the best marine, the best infiltrator, and the best leader in the galaxy…bar-none. Such a powerful leader, inspiring us to do our very best, whether she noticed or not. And Shepard always noticed. Nothing ever got past her. I remembered how surprised I was when I saw for myself just how attentive she could be. Attentive in her attention to detail, always making sure the rest of us on the team were taken care of. So direct and to-the-point, finding her own ways to sympathize with us. So professional with us; unforgiving with anyone who dared to cross her.

As ruthless and harsh as she was sometimes, I still loved her. I loved her because she was so merciless, and yet she would always make an effort to be kind to me. She would bend her priorities for me. She would put me first. She would still let me smile at her when she scowled; still buy me flowers and take me out when she was distant; still let me hold her when she couldn't hold me back.

I held on to her now, knowing that she was so far away.

So far away, but I still felt her clearly—clearer than the skies above.

Our team felt her, too.

And even though it wasn't the same as with me, I knew that they would never let her go.

So much so that we seemed to stay here for hours.

When the time was right, I stood up with everyone. Remembering my role, remembering my duties as Shepard's second-in-command, I made sure our team looked to me. Garrus, Joker, Wrex, Tali—they held back their strongest emotions, finding strength in what I gave to them. My certainty.

Remembering her leadership, I did my best to let Shepard speak through me:

"This isn't over," I told them, steadfast. "We're still a team. We always will be. Shepard's counting on us to do what's right. So when it's time to fight, when the Reapers get here, I want each and every one of you to come back. We have to end this war together, whatever it takes. Do you think you can do it?"

Garrus first: "Definitely. You can count on me."

Then Wrex: "Count me in, too."

And Tali: "Okay… I'm in."

And then Joker: "Yeah, for sure. I'm in this, too. We all are."

Sharing in one last moment, everyone took their turns giving me a hug. They'd all leave together soon, going back home to their other friends, their family—Garrus back to Palaven, Wrex back to Tuchanka, Tali back to the Flotilla, and Joker back to Tiptree. They knew that I would stay here on Earth, to start my N7 training soon, down in Brazil. And they knew enough of how much I loved Shepard, holding on to her even now; holding her through each of them, in our memories together, after all we'd been through, supporting our lone wolf of a commander as best as we could.

Our team knew that we were in this together to the very end.

Out of respect for the temporary end in front of us, Garrus mentioned, "After all that's happened…I think it'll be best if we archive the chat room. Doubt it's a good idea for us to keep talking there."

Wrex nodded, solemn.

Tali agreed, "Yes, we should… It hurts knowing that not everyone can respond to our messages."

Joker sighed with his acceptance. "Guess so, huh? We can stick to regular old emails, then. Just promise to stay in touch, guys. No excuses for falling off the grid."

We all promised to stay in touch—no matter what.

Just before everyone left, Tali looked to Shepard's unmarked grave one last time. She gave a salute with her left hand, as any quarian would. "Team Renegade Shepard, signing out…for now."

After I watched the team go, leaving together, I waited a while.

Waiting, to make sure they didn't come back.

Once we both knew they were gone for good, Miranda came over here to join me.

Standing here with Miranda by my side this time, I held her around her shoulders, supportive. I let myself smile as she leaned on me like this. I filled my heart with this swell of hope for the future. Whatever the future held for us, I knew that I wanted Shepard and Miranda there with me. I knew that I wanted the rest of the team with us, too. More immediate, and more emotional, I couldn't help holding on to my guardian angel like this, as unexpected as she was. As unexpected as all of this had been.

Forward, stronger: onto the next chapters, the next battles, the next times we'd treasure together.

Promising without words to stay strong, to stay patient—I gave Shepard my salute, too, through this unmarked grave. I saluted in the pride I had to serve under her. I saluted with the honor of knowing that she'd entrusted her legacy to me. I saluted in the endless joy in knowing her, and loving her as my one and only, and staying true to my faith and my devotion, because it was all worth it, for her.

This time would pass. This pain would pass.

And if she ever learned of my sins…I could only hope that she'd forgive me.

Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.