Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki Ly

Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity. Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep, Aria/FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.

27. Catastrophe's End

"Borgia Occupation" from Assassin's Creed Brotherhood

XXVII. Catastrophe's End

(Miranda Lawson)

Stealth.

Intelligence.

Subterfuge.

Assassinating the mind before the body.

Protecting humanity's best interests…and Shepard's well-being. One and the same. One and the same.

Making these hard choices in a hard galaxy. As a realist.

Applying the lessons I'd learned by studying Shepard's methods: her instincts, her mind. Her needs.

Doing all I could to protect her from this destructive woman that she loved…as was necessary.

As I continued to justify, over and over.

Or at least…that was what I'd told myself over these past two years. To help me survive. To help get me through this. To push me to this inevitable outcome, still so uncertain. So unclear. So unknown. I didn't know what would happen. I didn't know what to expect. I waited. I waited for answers. For the end.

Waiting here in my office, sitting at my desk, I remained dutiful in my distractedness. Gripping my gloved hands together, trembling, so tightly, as if praying. Shaking. Breaths uneven. Trying to work; not bothering anymore because it was pointless. Considering a nap; not bothering anymore because I had insomnia, as my one clue. Sick to my stomach with no appetite; not caring because I had little need to eat these days, as my next clue. Clues that I'd succeeded. Clues that I'd possibly averted the worst.

I'd tried listening to music. Classical music. It usually soothed me. I'd turned it off. It wasn't helping.

I'd tried drinking wine instead. Red wine. Something sweeter than usual, to relax. Even tea. Warm herbal tea. It hadn't worked.

All I could do was keep thinking, breathing, praying, recalling, analyzing…

Waiting.

Thinking like this, breathing like this, praying like this: I recalled the gravity of my decisions. That I had succeeded. That I had actually made the switch. That I had changed Shepard's protector from Ashley to myself during the Lazarus Project. Because I had to. Because I'd had no choice if I wanted her to live.

Yes, I cheated.

Yes, I hacked the game.

I had stolen Ashley's power away from her, knowing that she would only be irresponsible with it.

But, again, it was necessary. If I hadn't done this, then the consequences could have been severe.

Cheated, hacked, and stolen…after letting myself grow attached to Ashley over these past two years.

Stupidly attached, to control her. To keep her in-check. To preserve her for this inevitability before us.

I'd always known that this would happen. That Ashley would run afoul of Shepard's needs in the worst possible way, far beyond a mere disagreement that they could simply work through over time. In this case, with our current situation, she would lie, or come close to lying about everything. She would shatter Shepard's perceptions of her. That spell would break. That belief in Ashley as her infallible goddess would die…and Shepard would begin to question their connection, their relationship. Their values. Whether Ashley truly was the love of her life or not.

Questioning, and arriving at the truth: that Ashley simply didn't understand her, or her needs. Shepard was very sensitive, after all… Like a baby. Or a wolf pup, so precious and vulnerable, deep down. She needed a more stabilizing influence in her life, to keep the worst from happening. On an interpersonal level, Liara had done that for her. Ashley was too careless with Shepard's heart. She only saw Shepard as a vehicle to have her own selfish wants met. The problem grew worse once the Illusive Man and I were forced to tell Ashley about her true worth, her true power as the one sitting on that throne. The problem grew even worse, even more terrible as time went on: as Ashley became more and more convinced that I was not a threat to her relationship. Elevating herself. Ashley had twisted my kindness toward her as a weakness, truly believing that she held some type of power over me, in addition to her throne. The power of it all had gotten to her head. The power had corrupted her, warped her. The power had revealed all that Liara had despised in her before.

No attachments, no friendship, and no emotional relationship between us could have changed my mind.

As I'd discussed with Liara not long before her death, we both knew that Ashley was too dangerous. Too unpredictable. Too reckless. Having Ashley be in charge of Shepard's protections and sanity was an absolute disaster waiting to happen. Separate from those immunities to indoctrination—Liara's influence over Shepard's personality was one of calm virtuousness, balancing out her more renegade predispositions with proper stability; Ashley's influence was sheer aggression, recklessness, and violence, adding too much weight to Shepard's already-existing anger issues and traumas. And so, had Ashley hurt Shepard too much during that after party in Japan, the results could have been catastrophic.

Shepard could have gone on a rampage.

Shepard could have acted out in any number of ways, reflecting Ashley's aggression and recklessness.

Shepard could have lost her mind. Lost herself to her old demons, exacerbated by Ashley's influence on her personality. She could have lost everything…if I hadn't taken this preventative action.

However, I honestly hadn't known how soon the changes would take effect.

And even then, I'd had no idea how to prepare for this. Any of this.

Hence my skittishness. Switching back and forth, constantly off-balance. Not knowing how to behave.

Exhausting, uneven—I was unprepared. Afraid. Terrified that Shepard would ask too many questions, forcing me to tell her the truth at an inopportune time. Frightened by Ashley's increasing paranoia, wondering if she would somehow pick up on what I'd done. Anxious that Joker and Dr. Chakwas would understandably not be able to contain their truest opinions of Ashley…after I had told them everything. Everything from the past two years. The lies, the betrayals: all of it. Their behavior was out of my control at this point. I had to trust them—just as they had learned to trust me after telling them the truth first.

On top of the pervasive feelings that accosted me from being around Shepard like this…it was too much.

But the answers before me were clear:

Shepard had been able to use her tactical cloak with me straightaway. I had been surprised because, by my estimates, she would have at least needed to get to know me some more. Or perhaps our connection between superior and subordinate would have needed to grow organically, over time. But that wasn't the case. Shepard had already imprinted onto me, just as I had done with her over these past twenty years that I'd known her, facilitating that switch. Though I supposed I'd underestimated Shepard's reaction to seeing me when she woke up…as the first person she saw upon her rebirth. Smiling down at her with my love eternal and true. Unable to help myself, seeing that she was all right.

Watching as Shepard had dealt with the crew on my behalf, standing up for me…that made me start believing. Believing that perhaps she did care about me, despite her more obvious denials. Already, Shepard wanted to protect me. She had gone against her denials, allowing her principles to carry her through. She could never know how much her actions that day had locked me to her, even more… Even thinking about it now nearly set me adrift on a pleasant high, helping to soothe some of my anxieties.

And the final clue—aside from our shared insomnia and decreased appetites—was that heat.

The pervasive heat between Shepard and Ashley was no more.

Once I saw for myself that it was gone, while the three of us had been in the CIC together…I knew.

I definitely hadn't been able to fix that strange glitch myself. And yet it had resolved itself in this way.

More importantly, I hadn't expected Ashley to hurt Shepard this badly. Or this soon. I hadn't expected Ashley—in her purest delusions—to be so blind to her faults. Shepard was far too intelligent to allow Ashley to manipulate her. Far too dangerous to allow herself to fall prey to Ashley's domineering behavior. And so Ashley would give herself away and make that mistake: of admitting that she had not once, not once considered telling Shepard the truth instead, despite my stipulations that she needed to lie. Because I knew she hadn't. I knew that she had been more focused on her own self-preservation, fearing what Shepard would do to her if she chose to be honest instead.

Whatever happened after their talk, I knew to expect the worst.

Sadly, I'd thought that we would have more time first. More time to spend together.

Once again, I wasn't prepared for this. I wasn't. At all.

Honestly, it would have been simpler to implant a control chip in Shepard instead, skipping this anxiety altogether. But then I would have no doubt felt guilty about it. And Shepard wouldn't have approved.

So now, all I could do was wait.

Waiting for Shepard to discover the rest of the truth from the past two years.

Waiting for her reaction.

Waiting for the end of this damned waiting.

Even after telling Joker and Dr. Chakwas everything, and having them reassure me that I had made the correct choices, I still couldn't stop my hands from shaking. Remembering their reactions to the news during the negotiations for them to join Cerberus: how they had taken my side, as they'd had a feeling before…I still couldn't get rid of this sinking sensation in my stomach. This was the right thing to do. This was the best thing to do, since even Shepard's team had suspected that Ashley was not at all innocent.

We had attempted to tell Garrus Vakarian the whole story—since he, too, had communicated with Joker about the same feeling surrounding Ashley's involvement—but he had mostly gone off the grid. We had elected not to tell Tali'Zorah, because this would have been a disastrous shock to her system. Joker was confident that Tali'Zorah would believe me, as she had also been in on those same speculations about Ashley's guilt. But we had decided it was best not to tell her for the time being. At least until she had Shepard's support to help stabilize her, as I had witnessed a preview of back on Freedom's Progress.

Not long after joining Cerberus, Joker and Dr. Chakwas had gone to Tuchanka on their own to tell Urdnot Wrex the whole story in-person. He believed them right away, since, again, he had also spoken with Joker and Tali'Zorah before about that feeling they all shared. Despite how livid he was, Wrex had promised to at least continue emailing Ashley, in order to keep her from suspecting anything. They had all agreed to keep this under wraps for now, in general. Because they each knew that Shepard needed to see the truth on her own. They trusted in their leader to protect them from Ashley's wrath in the end.

As for Kaidan Alenko, the choice was clear. Joker, Dr. Chakwas, and Wrex knew better. We would not, could not tell Alenko anything. He was too close to Ashley. He had never been particularly close with Liara, either, and so he'd have no reason to sympathize with her. Alenko was also far too naïve and idealistic, needing to see the best in others, in Ashley. So he simply wouldn't have listened to reason.

And finally, the Illusive Man and I had told Councilor Anderson and Admiral Hackett the truth as well. As they had demanded during our negotiations with them, in sharing the news about the Lazarus Project. As outraged as Anderson and Hackett had been at the time, they had also agreed with my assessments. They promised to keep this quiet; to take appropriate action once Shepard decided how to contain the situation. We had then gone on to foster more cooperative Cerberus-Alliance relations as a result.

I had done all of this behind Ashley's back. All while giving her a smile to her face. A genuine smile.

Turning Ashley's own team against her.

Making them despise her.

Simply by telling them the truth: the same story that Ashley had relayed to me at the 94 that night. Reinforcing Liara's worries about Ashley's behavior, her selfishness and abuses. Using those worries to justify Liara's actions on Virmire and elsewhere. Watching as the team, as Councilor Anderson and Admiral Hackett took Liara's side over Ashley's. Taking my side. Agreeing with me, with my views.

Betraying Ashley like this after two years of our confusing friendship. No longer her guardian angel.

Feeling justified as I did this, even with my anxieties. Because I'd never stopped despising Ashley for what she was. I had seen the shape of her inferiority complex from early on. I'd always understood the ways she would seek to put down other women she perceived as stuck-up and arrogant—such as Liara, such as myself—to project her traumas onto us. Viewing us as the Alliance that had blacklisted her family for years. Viewing us as the enemy to put down, for her own retribution. Whatever feelings of friendship we shared, I would keep telling myself that they were only a means to an end. Despite growing to adore Ashley's outgoing nature. Despite finding myself envious—in an admiring way—of how bold and full of life she was. Despite learning to care for Ashley as if she were a younger sister to me, seeing as how I was eight years older than her. Trying to find my actual sister Oriana through her; and separating my sister from Ashley whenever feelings were involved.

Hating Ashley for the reasons behind her hubris, her perceived invincibility. Some of it was the matter of her importance, in protecting Shepard in that unique way during the Battle at the Citadel, and assuming her significance would carry through. Ashley took Shepard for granted in this way. I knew she did.

But the rest of it was about me, with her traumas. Her projections. And so I'd had to act accordingly:

How I'd purposely lowered myself before Ashley, as if she held all the power in the dynamic between us. How I'd lied and obfuscated, making it seem like I didn't hate her for having Shepard's heart when she didn't deserve it; and for killing Liara, whom I'd hoped to have in my life as a friend. How I'd discarded my pride, appearing to support Ashley's relationship, when I already knew: she expected Shepard and me to play along with her juvenile little fantasies for a threesome situation. Because of her significance, Ashley was delusional enough to believe that Shepard's heart would never stray from her. That Shepard would not find me that attractive. That I would merely stand off to the side while the two of them rode off into the sunset together, sobbing in my bitter loneliness. And that I somehow deserved this. Because Ashley wished to put me in my place. To teach me a lesson. To make me think that I wasn't nearly as important as I thought I was, despite my crippling personal issues that I had never told her about in detail. All to use me like some desperate whore meant for her personal entertainment…knowing how much I couldn't stand the mere thought of any of this. To control my access to Shepard, knowing enough about my feelings. Knowing that my father had already traumatized me in his constant need to control me. Not knowing that Shepard would never allow such a thing, due to her principles. Her respect.

But Ashley had never considered Shepard's honor. She only cared about herself. What she wanted.

Knowing her intentions for the past two years, I had resigned myself to wait. To be patient. All for this:

Possibly sending Ashley to her death, or breaking her mind. Or risking my own death instead, in case I had completely miscalculated. That was always a possibility. And if that was indeed the case, then I wouldn't run away. I would have gladly died by Shepard's hand—if that was what she decided was best.

Still praying, still trembling, still remembering to breathe: I waited for Shepard's decision.

Her final judgment.

Waiting for the end of this catastrophe.

EDI's voice sounded so close, and so far away. "Miranda."

I paused, wondering why she'd chosen to call me by my first name. She must have witnessed something.

My voice rasped with my dread. "Yes."

So impersonal: "I heard gunfire from inside the starboard cargo room. It appears there was an altercation between the commander and Lieutenant Williams. Perhaps you should investigate."

Deep breath, deep breath.

"Thank you, EDI."

Leaving my office, I did my best to compose myself. To remain composed. To appear composed as I made my way to the elevator. Focusing on the sounds of my heels against the ground as I walked. Finding some solace in how quiet the ship was. Quiet, focused, diligent—anyone not at their stations were already in their rooms in the nearby crew's quarters, completely unaware of what EDI had reported to me. As they should have been. As they needed to be. I didn't want the crew panicking about this and spreading rumors. We needed…to contain the situation properly first.

Taking the elevator down one floor to the engineering deck, I inhaled and exhaled more. Deeply. Harsher. Longer. Such a brief ride, and yet these seconds seemed to extend well beyond any amount of time I could conceive, making me hate this motion, making me hate these memories of those disgusting members of the crew that Shepard had disposed of, and making me hate myself even more. Because I could hardly stand still. This drilling of my heart from within my chest had reverberated out to my breaths, so uneven. Imagining the worst. Imagining peace and tranquility for all. Imagining an end. Some kind of end. Some final end to this madness that had eaten away at me for two whole years.

But I had dealt with far worse than this for twenty years now. For far longer than that.

I should have been able to handle one last issue.

I certainly should have been…

At the engineering deck, the elevator door opened.

Right away, the smell of blood reached my nose. Blood, pungent and painful, all through the clinical cleanliness of the ship. And I could only inhale that pungent pain, to breathe. To keep breathing. To make myself leave the elevator. To turn in the direction of the starboard cargo room. To walk forward.

Walking toward Shepard standing there in the open doorway. Walking toward her, the clicks of my heels marking each step I took as individual accomplishments, worthy of this distinct reward:

Shepard watched me in her sunlight. In her might. In her sternness, sharpness, and severity. In her absolute power and magnetism. In the night of her N7 stealth suit, marking her hyper-awareness aboard the Normandy where she should have felt at home. She watched my approach as I neared her, as I neared the room. Nearing the growing smell of blood, swelling and swelling. Welling my eyes with a faint coat of wet sheen, which Shepard took such stoic note of. All without either of us saying a word.

Just as stoic, just as wordless, Shepard communicated her wishes to me as I reached her presence.

Standing this close to her, beneath her pointed stare, I did as she wanted me to do:

I looked inside the room.

Turning my head, so slowly, I found the end result of all my waiting. My patience. My justifications.

Sprawled out on the floor next to her bed, Ashley lay there. Blown back from the impact of that gunshot, right through her eyes. Executed through her skull, with the spatter of blood plastered against the now-tainted steel of her bathroom door. Bleeding out from her head, both underneath her through her hair, and face-up across her gaping wound, pooling down across her skin. Bleeding out…red and dead. Gone.

Shaking all over again, I closed my eyes. Trying to contain myself. Barely managing to hold back. But with this building, this near-erupting of my emotions, I remembered all that I had done. These feelings. These attachments from the time I had spent with Ashley, leaning on her as she had leaned on me. Finding sanctuary in her as she had found sanctuary in me. Needing her to need me, because I had been so hopelessly pathetic in my pain and loneliness after Shepard's death. Latching onto Ashley in my hatred and lighter feelings of adoration and envy and admiration. Questioning if I'd had it right about her, and allowing my own manipulations of her to manipulate me into that questioning. Only to arrive at the ultimate conclusion that the path I had chosen was just. The choices I had made were correct. The priorities I had picked over her were better than she could ever hope to be, or to compensate for.

But Ashley's smile haunted me already.

Clenching my throat, tightening my chest, thinning my breaths.

About to tremble out of control, I remembered her damned smile. Her silly mischief. Her impish, girlish delight whenever I'd made her happy. The way she would laugh and tease me from time to time over how reserved I was, never once suspecting all that I'd hidden from her. And again, how she'd needed me. Trusting me as her angel. Relying on me completely. Finally making me feel like I actually mattered.

I couldn't know when these two tears had welled out from my eyes in my heated regret.

Remembering my priorities, my choices, and my conclusions, I breathed in and out. Stronger. Centering.

Steadying myself, I opened my eyes to this wetted, heated sensation of my weaknesses.

I gazed up at Shepard with my renewed purpose. Accepting this new reality with her eyes on me. Even still, I felt myself trembling anyway, at least a little. From the way Shepard observed me. Analyzing me, so intense and focused. Finding my truths through my eyes. Seeing the way I held myself together, even as I dealt with this ridiculous urge to drop down on my knees right then and there. To do anything and everything she wanted. I absolutely would have spread my legs open for her, letting Shepard take me—immediately. No questions asked. Because that was simply the impact of her allure, with this power she exuded in such confidence and certainty. All as an extended metaphor for what I had enabled here.

Hoping for some kind of reward after all these years—I wanted Shepard to fulfill this craven need in me.

Lightening her sunlit eyes, Shepard gave me the ultimate validation I had forever desired from her:

She offered her gloved hand to me, official this time.

"Welcome to the team, Miranda."

Tentative in this moment, this next finally, I placed my hand in hers. Truly feeling welcomed by her. Included. Involved. Protected by Shepard in her endless protectiveness, as our leader. As my only leader.

This time, I felt a shared current of lightning between us, purely electric and all-consuming. Stronger as she held my hand stronger than I held hers—so much stronger than from our first meeting. Strongest as she looked down at me, straight into my eyes. Again finding my truths. Seeing right through me, as if I were mere glass as transparency shaped and sculpted as a woman. Coming so close to melting as this heat slipped down my thighs, trapped and locked and constricted within the tightness of my uniform.

I made myself respond to her, "Thank you, Commander…"

Letting go of her hand didn't remove this current between us. It permeated, charging more in power.

Shepard said, "EDI. Remove Ashley's name from the crew manifest. She's no longer with us."

EDI replied, "Removing it now, Shepard."

Focused on me once more, Shepard asked, "Is this why you were so anxious around me?"

"Yes, Commander," I answered. "Aside from some…other issues." Irrelevant personal feelings. Want. Need. "I was terrified. Terrified that you would ask me too many questions. About Liara. About Ashley. About my own intentions, and how I'd manipulated her. Taken advantage of her. I knew that I would be compelled to tell you the truth. I'm…frankly incapable of lying to you. As I told you back on the shuttle."

"If that's the case, then why'd you confess to me about the emotional relationship you had with her?"

I grimaced, admitting: "My conscience got the better of me. I didn't want us to proceed with the mission without you knowing. At least that much. Even then, your anger was—eye-opening. Your reaction shook me to my core in a way I'd never felt before. I felt as if I stared death right in the eye through yours."

Shepard figured, "You had to expect some kind of negative reaction from me. Didn't you?"

"I did. But I told you anyway. Took the risk anyway. It's the same with all of this. Exactly the same."

She accepted my answer.

And she wished to know, "Who else knows the truth?"

"Joker, Dr. Chakwas," I listed. "Urdnot Wrex. Councilor Anderson. Admiral Hackett. And of course, the Illusive Man. He lied to you about Ashley still being your protector. By omission, anyway. He was particular in only referencing the past, not the present. Mainly because I wasn't certain when the change would take effect. It looks like things officially switched over when you woke up on Lazarus Station. When you first saw me. The way you gazed up at me…you were so innocent. Gentle."

Shepard nodded, finding that this evidence lined up with what she'd sensed already.

"No one knows about your involvement," I informed her. "With Liara's murder. I had only suspected what happened in your consciousness, piecing your memories back together. I wasn't sure if it was only a dream, or if it had actually happened. If you would like to tell anyone on your own, then that will be your decision. I chose not to divulge those details, in order to preserve your innocence going forward."

"That's fine with me," she allowed. "Thanks. For doing all of this. We'll go over the rest a little later on."

"Of course, Commander. Whatever you need."

Shepard's regard of me lightened some more. She believed me completely. Somehow. Already.

But it certainly wasn't my place to complain.

Needing to deal with this loose end, Shepard stepped farther into the room.

She moved around Ashley, around that pooling blood. Over to the bed. Moving the pillows out of the way from the black comforter. She then stepped into the blood, the toughened ridges of her combat boots collecting that thickening red. Kneeling down, Shepard picked Ashley up with the weight of her actions. Remaining respectful to the last, she set Ashley's body atop the comforter. Wrapping up that bleeding, she insulated Ashley within the bedding, the blanket, and the sheets. Covering her away.

Needing to do this on her own, Shepard opened the door to the adjacent bathroom. Finding cleaning supplies. She washed off the blood that had spattered over that door first, still stepping in the pool of red beneath her as she did this. Transitioning to the floor, Shepard didn't have too much blood to clean, as the blue of Ashley's Alliance fatigues had soaked some of it up already. She somehow didn't betray much of her emotions as she did this. Shepard only sniffled and swallowed her tears, once, before moving past it all. And I couldn't sense those same flames that had burned in her heart. Dimming, dowsing, this act of cleaning helped her store away her love for Ashley, off in a safe space. Sheltered.

I wished I could have comforted her. But, again, it wasn't my place. All I could do was remain here, transmitting my wishes to her. She seemed to receive what I sent out, letting this hold her instead.

As Shepard cleaned her boots next, I noticed the Razer pistol hanging from her hip.

And had I picked up on this before, then I would've known what she knew.

Her attention to detail remained impeccable.

Disposing of everything that needed to be disposed, Shepard then returned to the bed. She picked up Ashley's bundled form, finding that nothing had bled out to the mattress beneath. Leaving the room, she gave me a look to walk with her, and so I did. On the way to the elevator, carrying Ashley's body wrapped in this bedding, Shepard gave her next orders:

"EDI, from now on, no one is allowed in the starboard cargo room. Seal it shut unless I say otherwise."

The door's lock glowed red behind us with EDI's compliance. "Yes, Shepard. The room is now sealed."

Shepard added, "Miranda and I are on our way to the cargo hold. Tell Joker and Dr. Chakwas to meet us there. They'll know why."

"Understood."

Taking this elevator down one more level, I felt myself changing. About to change. So close to changing from these events, even though I'd always known they would be here. Even though I had set all of this into motion. Still, I had to maintain my control. Shepard wouldn't have appreciated me breaking down at a time like this. As if I couldn't handle the full meaning of what I'd done.

And I couldn't, really…

Now simply wasn't the best time to face that uncomfortable truth.

Out to the wide open space of the cargo hold, with the shuttle in waiting nearby, I knew what had to be done. Needing to be more helpful this time, I led the way over to the storage area.

Locating a suitable pod.

Setting it out along the ground. Opening it.

Shepard set Ashley's covered form inside the pod. She then closed the pod, sealing it. Sealing her own emotions off, for the time being. Needing to deal with them later. Another time. But not at all forcing them away. I sensed no friction, no anger, and no strife from Shepard as she stared down at the white of this pod. Pure acceptance. Accepting what had come to pass. Not fighting reality, she chose not to run away from all that had happened. She chose not to run away from her feelings, either, sealed as they were for now.

Perhaps the shape of her final talk with Ashley had shaped this reception in her.

No malice, no spite. So unlike everyone else who knew the full story.

Emerging from the elevator, Dr. Chakwas and Joker found us here, approaching.

Dr. Chakwas took note of the pod, stating in directness, "I had a feeling it would come to this."

Joker frowned with his own spite. "I'm not surprised," he agreed. "I was kinda waiting for it, honestly."

Shepard turned to ask them, "I take it you've already come to terms with everything?"

"No kidding," soured Joker. "Miranda told us the truth when we joined up with Cerberus. So we're on good terms. Who knew a frickin' terrorist group was more trustworthy than my own lying friend?"

"Indeed," bristled Dr. Chakwas. "It was…difficult to believe at first. Although, we'd long-since suspected that Ashley's hands might not have been clean. We sensed as much for most of these two years you were gone. Seeing the evidence for ourselves—it was undeniable. I've accepted what happened. I'll never forgive her for this, even knowing that Liara wasn't entirely innocent, either. It's safe to say I've already gone through my many stages of grief. But I ultimately sided with Liara in the end. I had to."

"Yup, same here. Yelled about it. Cried about it. Got it out of my system. No disrespect to you, Ma'am, but Ash was dead to me a long time ago. Way before she ever set foot on the ship. I can move on now."

"I understand," replied Shepard. "Let's move this discussion to the med bay. I need to get caught up."

We all returned to the elevator. Leaving Ashley's pod here in the cargo hold, at least for now.

As we went, I couldn't help thinking: this was our first fatality from the suicide mission.

Distancing myself from the reality of her death would only help for so long.

But it helped for now, arriving to the med bay with Shepard, Joker, and Dr. Chakwas. Legion was already here waiting for us—named as such on the crew manifest now, as I'd managed to discover while trying to work earlier. Even though it didn't know the full details of all that had occurred, Legion was close enough to the situation, simply in having worked on the Lazarus Project with me.

While Dr. Chakwas sat at her desk, the rest of us stood around nearby. She and Joker led the discussion, catching Shepard and Legion up on their side of the story.

Apparently, Tali'Zorah's initial reaction to Liara's alleged suicide was one of complete disbelief. I hadn't known at the time that she had emailed Liara not long before Ashley had arrived to the hotel room. Tali'Zorah had insisted that Liara would not, under any circumstances whatsoever, decide to kill herself right after having read her heartfelt message. But the investigation had said otherwise, thanks to the planned meddling from our Cerberus agents. They'd managed to convince the non-agents over to our cause. And so it was an open-and-shut case.

But this single email to Liara from Tali'Zorah—one that I hadn't seen or anticipated—had created a chain reaction among the rest of Shepard's team. This one thing had also made me realize that I'd underestimated Tali'Zorah overall. I had mistakenly assumed that she was far too naïve to be trustworthy in the grand scheme of things. But as I'd taken another look at her, I began to reconsider my previous stance. After witnessing Tali'Zorah's timely foresight with her email, and her sharp intelligence in not allowing Ashley's gaslighting to affect her, I had grown to respect her a great deal. Thanks to her, the team were all going to suspect that something was amiss either way. Either way, they were going to create the separate email chains that they did, excluding Ashley and Kaidan Alenko, as they shared their suspicions and worries with one another over the years, leading us to our current reality.

So, either way, the truth was going to come out eventually. I'd had no control over that.

But I could control the spread of the information. As I'd managed to do when Dr. Chakwas and Joker had demanded to know if Cerberus had been involved with the incident.

As per their demands, the Illusive Man and I had told them all they wished to know. I had detailed how Legion was the one who'd initially contacted Liara about the Lazarus Project, which had started all of this in the first place. I'd shared that I had visited Shepard's apartment upon Liara's request for that meeting: where I'd told Ashley about her necessary role in making sure our Cerberus agents retrieved Shepard's body from the Alliance base. All mere hours before she had compromised herself, making my job that much easier. I had showed Joker and Dr. Chakwas the original footage from the hotel: of Ashley entering Liara's room, of the sound of gunfire, and of Ashley panicking and leaving the room shortly afterward. I'd explained how we'd manipulated the footage for the hotel's security as well as the San Diego police; I'd then detailed how I'd helped fabricate Ashley's alibi by accompanying her to the 94, in order to keep her safe from any repercussions. The Illusive Man had stressed the importance of protecting Ashley at the time, since she had been the key to defeating the Reapers after Shepard's return. Otherwise, we would have had little reason to keep her around after she'd signed off on the transfer of Shepard's remains at the Alliance base. She was far too dangerous to be a reliable asset.

To help them make sense of everything, this was when I'd told them the truth about Ashley's rivalry with Liara. The exact story that she'd shared with me at the 94. Every detail I could remember.

Much to my surprise, they had believed me. Because, again, they had suspected as much.

My story reinforced their observations. Such as that scar Ashley had over her lip. They had noticed, wondered about it. Then it all made sense once I'd explained.

As another surprise, Joker and Dr. Chakwas came around to accepting my decisions. My choices. My priorities. They supported me in my move in switching Shepard's protector to me. They recognized that Ashley wasn't the right person for the job. Not with so much at stake. They no longer trusted her as Shepard's partner at all. I supposed I'd been taken aback by their trust in me at this point. All because I had given them the answers to their burning questions, of the worries that had haunted them for so long. All because I had been able to provide some sort of stability for them in promising that Shepard would return. And in assuring them that I hadn't chosen to make this switch for my own ambitions.

This was about Shepard's well-being. Her safety. Her personal security.

Without that, there was no mission. Without her, we were all dead.

We needed Shepard at her best. I was prepared to ensure that she would have her stability.

Although, I hadn't mentioned anything to them about…these feelings of mine. How I felt about Shepard. In coming around with their acceptance, Dr. Chakwas and Joker seemed to have noticed regardless. They recognized that not just anyone would make the sacrifices that I had made for their leader.

I was comfortable enough with their silence, as respectful as it was. They chose not to judge me.

I still wasn't used to their respect. Their trust. How they maybe even liked me as a person.

I was so used to the exact opposite in dealing with other people, after all…

Joker addressed me, "Hey, Miranda! I meant to ask. Did you ever tell Legion anything? I mean, it's been around for a while. Or is this all new information?"

"Most of this is new information," I supplied, looking to Shepard. "Though I did ask it to lie to you. In case either you or Ashley asked about anything too close to this subject. I didn't want to tip you off at the wrong time."

Legion confirmed, "Shepard-Commander's inquiry surrounding our game generated the need for our deception. We apologize."

"Don't worry about it," accepted Shepard. "You did what you needed to do."

Dr. Chakwas sighed. "If only Ashley hadn't seen her own lies as strictly necessary. I did begin to worry on my own after Virmire. When she had that unusual gunshot through her arm. I couldn't imagine what type of pistol-wielding enemy had gotten so close to her for a point-blank wound. Close enough to disable her omni-tool, even. I worried far more when she had such a visceral reaction upon seeing Liara again. But I couldn't assume anything. I tried to dismiss it all as a mere coincidence, yet it continued to linger on my mind. I deeply regret not knowing better at the time."

"I should've seen this, too," agreed Joker. "Man, I seriously hate Ashley for lying to us for two fucking years. She gunned down Liara, knowing how much you care about her! Then she lied about the cover-up. She lied about Cerberus. She lied about everything! She sat on the line and listened to Garrus and Tali cry their eyes out, and she didn't say a word! And you know why? Because she knew for a fact that we were never gonna take her side on this. Turns out she was right!"

"Self-preservation to the end," noted Dr. Chakwas. "It's a shame she had to take it this far."

"It's a shame she tried to lie to my face, too! When we talked earlier, Ashley had the nerve to act like she didn't even know Miranda. Like they hadn't actually been talking this entire time. Just out of curiosity, I brought up the idea of her, Shepard, and Miranda having a threesome. Then she smirked and talked shop about it, like it was all part of her big plans or something. But you know what? I knew it was bullshit. The Ash I knew would never jump into bed with some stranger! She didn't even try to pretend like she was worried about working for Cerberus, either! Best liar in the galaxy right there, folks."

"This all comes back around to Liara. Again, it was difficult to learn about what she had done. At least at first. But then everything made sense: if Liara genuinely saw that Ashley was capable of all this, then she should have taken steps to prevent it. Even if her methods were quite extreme. I sympathize with her."

Joker felt the same. "Yeah—it was a hard pill to swallow," he shared. "If she was only trying to stop something like this from happening, then I get it. Liara wanted to protect you, Commander. She really did. No clue why she hesitated, though. Guess we'll never find out now."

Shepard expressed, "I wish she would've told me. That's all."

"Well…you know why she didn't say anything. Why Ash kept quiet, too."

"I know…" Resigning herself to accept all of this, Shepard decided: "Since Tali doesn't know the rest, I'll tell her myself when we go pick her up. She deserves to know the full story."

Joker encouraged, "Don't worry, she'll understand. Tali was the first one to get us all in on the speculation, anyway. She'll be upset…but she wants to know the truth. Especially coming from you."

"Agreed. Let's hope for the best. Whenever we find Garrus again, he needs to know, too."

"For sure. I'll tell Wrex that you took care of things. It'll be a huge weight off his shoulders. We told him the whole thing already. He's pissed. Plus, he was sick of having to keep emailing Ash after the fact, pretending like we were all best friends. Pretty sure he was getting real close to dealing with her before you could."

Shepard knew. "I don't blame him."

Dr. Chakwas pointed out, "I'm still not sure how Kaidan will react. Miranda was wise in stressing that he's too close to Ashley. And he was never particularly friendly with Liara. I recall they were only cordial as work colleagues. Perhaps it would be best for him to remain oblivious. At least for the time being."

"I'm thinking the same," said Shepard. "Kaidan will know the public story, then. But from here on out, everyone who joins the team will learn about what happened. I don't want you all to have to tip-toe around the issue. They'll know to keep their mouths shut with anyone else. It's that simple." I agreed with her choice; Joker, Dr. Chakwas, and Legion all expressed their agreement as well. "The rest of the galaxy doesn't need to know the truth, either. For the public story: they can believe that Ash was killed-in-action while still working with the Alliance. I'm choosing to separate her actions from her family's legacy. I don't want this to ruin the Williams name all over again. They don't deserve to suffer because of her."

"That's quite benevolent of you, Shepard," remarked Dr. Chakwas. "And I have to agree."

Joker nodded. "True, true. You just know the Alliance would look for any old reason to smear her family's name again. Even if Ashley was a huge traitor. Her Mom and her sisters don't need all that."

Shepard also decided: "Last I checked, we're still in the Sol System not too far from Earth. We need to arrange for an Alliance ship to come by and pick up Ashley's pod from the cargo bay." She regarded me. "Since Anderson and Hackett know about this, I'm assuming they're ready to deal with the fallout."

"Yes, Commander," I confirmed. "They are. They'll handle things accordingly, including the PR spin. As promised to the Illusive Man during our own negotiations with them. So you don't need to worry."

Dr. Chakwas volunteered, "Please, allow me to oversee the process. Including the transfer."

Joker raised his hand. "I'll help, too. You've got enough on your hands, Shepard. We'll take care of it."

"All right," allowed Shepard. "I'll leave it to you both. Miranda and I still need to go over some other details on our own. We should get going."

"Hang on—before you head out," said Joker. "I just…wanted to say thanks, Commander. For handling all this like a pro. Can't be easy. I mean, I'll admit—we never confronted Ash on our own since we were…kinda scared about how she'd react. We weren't sure if you'd let her stick around. Or if you were just never gonna find out. Or if you did, heck, maybe you'd take her side. Probably would've caused a huge rift with the team if she stayed. So I guess you protected us from all that hate and drama."

"Absolutely," settled Dr. Chakwas. "It's awfully strange to feel relieved after losing one of the team like this. But I also worried for our safety while Ashley was with us. As brief as her time was. Though I also lament her loss because of your relationship. You seem to be holding yourself together well enough. Indeed, thank you for protecting us from that awful possibility."

Shepard told them, "You're part of my crew. From now on, if anything else comes up, you let me know. I don't want any repeats of this whole saga. Understood?"

Dr. Chakwas stood up—she and Joker gave Shepard their stoutest salutes, affirming their loyalties.

"Understood, Commander," they said in unison.

Professional to the last, Shepard returned their salutes with her own.

Legion's observations seemed more pointed in this moment. Finding such strong consensus.

Dr. Chakwas looked to me. "And thank you as well, Miranda. For bringing all of this to light. You didn't have to go out of your way to make your case to us, but you did. It's more than clear how dedicated you are to protecting the mission. After such an ordeal, I believe we'll all be just fine from here on out."

"You can say that again," said Joker. "But seriously—thanks, Miranda. You're really something else!"

Rather thrown by their gratitude—so very unexpected—I only replied with, "Of course. Thank you."

Joker and Dr. Chakwas both gave me such…specific, peculiar smiles.

Shepard rescued me from the rest of this encounter, at last having us leave the med bay for my office.

---

Safe within the confines of this space, I sat behind my desk.

Shepard waited for me to sit first, before taking her own seat: the same leather chair where Ashley had been not that long ago. Having this reminder of Shepard's manners helped to keep me enough at ease.

Waiting on my own, I wanted her to lead this talk of ours.

Because I wasn't at all sure where to begin. What exactly she wished to know. What order to go in.

All I knew was that I needed to be honest. I couldn't lie to her. I had spent all these years lying and sneaking around. Spying on her, on her team. Keeping my eye on her. Studying her. Learning her.

I was honestly sick of the deception. I was tired of staying in the shadows, too afraid to face her light.

As Shepard sat before me, watching my thoughts pass through my mind, I again felt so transparent. Clear. See-through. As if she saw through my layers and layers of attempts at maintaining some type of decency in her presence. Or just in general. I had built up so many defenses. So many safeguards. So many ways of keeping others out of my head and my heart—even Ashley, to some extent. To have all of my efforts go to waste, faltering beneath the unintentional intensity of her stare…it was a lot to handle.

Non-judgmental, Shepard wished to know, "So how'd you do it, then? How did you know the best way to take advantage of her? How'd you manage to get her to trust you completely like that? And how did you know her biggest weaknesses?"

Seeped in regret, I replied, "Well, that depends. Do you want the short story? Or the long one?"

"Both. Give me the overall summary. Then the details. Paint that picture for me, Miranda. I'm listening."

Shepard did deserve to know all that I was capable of…

"Ashley…was a child. I did what anyone would do with a child. I gave her plenty of attention. Smiled at her. Spoiled her rotten. Protected her, fussed over her. And, above all, I made her feel special… Cared for. All things that I knew nothing about from personal experience. Still, it was all more than enough. She also had an inferiority complex. Giving her power over me, and over you, was enough to bring out who she truly was. I despised having to lower myself before her every day for two years straight. I knew she got off from that power trip. From putting me in my place… Challenging her directly would have been foolish. She was far too stubborn. The most important question, then, became how to defeat her mind. How to break her down over time. How to trap her in a corner with no way out, with no place left to run. You were the answer."

I started off by explaining to Shepard how and why I knew these things about Ashley in the first place. How I'd spied on the team's now-archived chat room during their mission against Saren and the geth. How I'd managed to find enough of Ashley's external communications, especially with her family. I was able to put together her longings, her personality, and the shape of her mind, all from watching her interactions with others. Piecing together the clues. Finding out what made her tick, essentially.

The most helpful evidence was finally meeting her in-person, at Shepard's apartment that fated evening.

The way Ashley had leered at me, judging me for my looks, my appearance…that had told me all that I needed to know about her. Compared to Liara, who had merely shown a surprised, but gentle sort of curiosity upon first seeing me, Ashley's reaction had been a tell-all of her worst instincts. How she judged other women she perceived as conceited or overly-confident in their sexuality. How she would swear she was not like those women in her private communications, desperately trying to elevate herself above someone like me. And how this had played a subconscious role in her struggles with her sexuality, as she'd had no idea as to her inherent biases and fears. She'd never been aware of them.

Hence why Ashley had gravitated toward Shepard so much. Commander Shepard, rather, as a beautiful woman who was confident without being conceited; confident in her sexuality without showing off; and whose slight masculine bent posed no threat to her, without dredging up those old biases or hatreds.

So when Ashley had first met me, eyeing me and no doubt assuming I was some type of whore, I had tried not to concern myself over it. But our half-discussion, half-argument about bringing Shepard back had done her no favors. I knew that I was the purest representation of her worst traumas and triggers.

Even her condescending proposition for sex had made me feel disgusted. Like Ashley had only viewed me as some object. As a walking, talking sex doll that only existed to satisfy her sadistic curiosities about fucking a woman like me. It had surely seemed like this was the only way Ashley would cooperate with our plans to transfer Shepard's remains into our possession. As revolted as I had been, I'd had no choice at the time but to indulge her wishes…even though I was terrified of her. Though I'd refused to show it.

If Liara hadn't been present in the room as a calming force for me, then I probably would have shown how apprehensive I was. Ashley's dark, antagonistic passes at me had conjured up such awful scenarios in my head. As lonely and dangerous as she was at the time, grieving in so much pain, I had honestly considered the worst. That she wouldn't respect me in bed. That she wouldn't play nice. That she wouldn't back off once I told her she wasn't allowed inside of me, because no one had ever had that privilege. That she wouldn't accept that I needed to be the dominant one, as I was used to. That she would have likely forced me to be submissive to her instead, all just to humiliate me as she desired.

Ashley might have even raped me. I couldn't know. Not for certain. But I had certainly imagined it.

That fearful agony of mine had permanently ruined my opinion of her.

Actually admitting this out loud to someone, to Shepard herself, acted as a kind of catharsis for me. Because I saw the way her eyes changed. She had of course listened patiently this entire time, willing to understand me. Willing to see my point of view. But Shepard now understood the implications behind my decision to take care of Ashley these past two years. That I had done this anyway, even as I had feared her. That I had treated Ashley with so much apparent kindness and care, as a way to also protect myself from her. Pacifying her had been the strongest repellant against her harshest attitudes.

Continuing on with my story, I then told Shepard about my first and final conversation with Liara in private, in-person. We had stood together not too far from the monorail station closest to the apartment. Expressing that we were both on the same page: of how dangerous it would've been for Ashley to realize the extent of her power. Of how she'd already had too much power over Shepard as it was. And of how it would've made the most sense for Liara to instead be Shepard's primary love interest, leaving Ashley to continue believing regardless, as we both knew she would have. There would have been no risk that way. They could have maintained their balance with one another. Shepard would have remained stable and mentally sound, able to continue on with the mission without issues.

Of course, those plans for Shepard's healthier happiness and stability had all died with Liara later on that night. My own silly hopes for a closer friendship with Liara had also died then. Once Ashley had shot her.

I'd had no choice but to help Ashley that night. I'd had no choice but to deceive her, remembering what she needed in a leader: that damned gentle guidance and validation. Talking her through the deception, the stealth, and her disguises had been simple enough. But actually preparing to deal with her on this personal level for the next two years…that was what I couldn't prepare for.

So, for Ashley's alibi, I had tried to offload her onto some hapless stranger at the club. But she'd quickly shot that idea down. I'd again had no choice but to help her directly, this time by pretending to be her date. And even though I'd found myself apprehensive about this, hoping that Ashley wouldn't actually try to sleep with me, this had worked out in my favor. I'd felt safe enough in such a crowded location, convinced that Ashley wouldn't have tried anything stupid with me. Aside from that foolish boy James Vega interrupting our time together with his ridiculousness, I had needed this experience:

Seeing for myself that Ashley hadn't been the least bit remorseful over killing Liara.

Seeing that Ashley had seemed vindicated instead.

Having her trust me enough to tell me her full story then and there.

But even after learning that full story, I still continued to worry. Ashley had taken such drastic action, not appearing to care about how this would affect Shepard upon her return. As if she had been convinced that Shepard would simply get over it and move on with her. Those same stubborn delusions of hers had no doubt helped her lie to Garrus Vakarian so easily when he'd called her. Even while he had sobbed over the line—all because of her actions, on top of having lost Shepard already.

This was the moment when I knew I needed to continue pacifying her. Going into that type of stealth mode: lowering myself before Ashley, and doing whatever she wanted, in order to remain incognito. To protect myself from her possible wrath. Or something far worse.

I continued to fear the worst once Ashley invited me home with her that night. Driving her back to the apartment, and actually lying in Shepard's bed with her: stressed and anxious, fearful that Ashley would find some way to hurt me. Or that she would take advantage of me in my sleep. Or she wouldn't—but only if I played everything perfectly. Only if I said as little as possible about myself, how I felt on a personal level. Only if I made her believe that I wasn't a threat to her in any way whatsoever.

I lived in that state of constant fear over the holidays we'd spent together.

I only found my solace in planning out my preventative measures down to the exact details.

I had found what worked at the 94—in apologizing to Ashley after her call with her teammate. All to make it sound like I had sympathized with her, in telling Ashley that she had been Liara's victim, when really, I knew better. I had only told Ashley what she'd needed to hear in that moment. But she had believed me, and that was enough. Enough to sustain her to hand over Shepard's remains to us, all without a single shred of remorse, once again.

The smallest things continued to guide me: during the QEC call with Ashley and the Illusive Man, where he had explained all, I knew it was imperative to give her a sense of belonging. As if I had somehow taken her side in her rivalry with Liara—again—even though I well and truly hadn't. Referring to Liara as the asari and T'Soni to create distance from her, and to again make it seem like I had taken Ashley's side in the matter. Mentioning classified details about our Cerberus intelligence on the Alliance base going dark. All to help Ashley feel like part of the in-group with Cerberus, the Illusive Man, and myself, to give her that sense of belonging away from the Alliance. To prevent any type of remorse over her betrayals. It even helped Ashley to see that I was uncertain about the future—because I absolutely had been uncertain at the time. When the Illusive Man had ordered me to "find another solution" to the problem in front of me, I'd had no idea how to proceed. I hadn't yet made up my mind. But that had turned into yet another issue plaguing me, on top of not knowing whether I was ever truly safe in Ashley's presence.

Later on, in our own private conversations, I had chosen to divulge more covert details about high-level Cerberus operations. Again, to help Ashley feel included in my world. I had also told Ashley sensitive information about how I was created from my father's DNA. How I hadn't been born as a real person. How I had ran away from my father, leaving with nothing, and joining Cerberus after the Illusive Man had recruited me. I had even told Ashley about my twin sister Oriana, knowing that it might have been a security risk. I had my sister in hiding on Illium, to keep her safe from our controlling father. Telling Ashley about this could have compromised that.

But it had all worked. Ashley had quickly found her sense of security with me. It had been imperative for me to maintain this while I'd taken care of her, cooked for her, and watched her play Shepard's video games at home.

When Ashley had given me that gift for Christmas—those rare physical copies of Shepard's fashion magazines—I had felt something of a shift. As if I'd actually started caring about her. I'd felt it even more on New Year's Eve, when I'd decided to kiss Ashley, not on her lips, if only because I had still been in too much pain after Shepard's death. I had found myself indulging in the far-off, what-if scenario: of what it would've been like to have met Ashley separate from these circumstances. How we could have had something together. Possibly, maybe.

Those vaguely positive feelings had grown more when I'd visited that plot of grass with Ashley, after her team had departed. Where Shepard would have been buried, if not for our Cerberus meddling for the Lazarus Project. Ashley had been so supportive with me that day, allowing us to grow closer. She had of course known how broken up I was about this, even with the clear prospects of Shepard coming back after the project's completion. She had chosen to show me such kindness and understanding, breaking more of the black and white views I'd held about her for so long.

Luckily, over the next two years, Ashley had never asked me about those views of mine. We had simply moved on with one another, continuing with this friendship of ours. As if our very first meeting together had never happened. Instead, Ashley's other curiosities had grown: she'd wished to know more about my feelings. How I felt about Shepard. I could tell that her curiosity had initially come from a genuine place. Not from any paranoia, viewing me as competition of sorts.

I knew that if I told Ashley these details, that it would all start something in her.

So I'd waited about a year or so. I had written the email well ahead of time. Writing, re-writing, deleting certain parts; deleting all of it, and starting over from scratch. I had done this in between Ashley's strenuous N7 training, and of course during the Lazarus Project, as my own personal adventure to come back to during my spare time. But there was always one part of the message that I'd kept coming back to: the matter of wishing Ashley the best in her relationship. I would write out the words, trying to believe that I believed them. But I never did.

Throughout this time, the Illusive Man had continued to pressure me about finding another solution. The solution to the problem surrounding Ashley's role with Shepard's stability. I had spent weeks and weeks analyzing likely scenarios, trying to come up with something. All because of the inevitability before me: of how convinced Liara had been that Ashley would hurt Shepard beyond repair. And whenever this happened, it would have surely ended the mission. Shepard wouldn't have survived such a catastrophe. I saw that catastrophe barreling toward us, all from the way Ashley had refused to consider telling Shepard the truth about what had happened. Even though I had told her not to. Even though I had claimed that it was necessary. Even though I had always known that Shepard was far too clever to believe such lies. She would have questioned Liara's suicide, one hundred percent. She would have questioned everything, destroying those plans for her to remain oblivious. And Ashley would have been caught in her crosshairs regardless, as the sole target of her ire, in her effortless needs to lie.

I had known it was all a matter of time before Ashley ruined Shepard. Permanently.

And this was all before I'd had an inkling as to Shepard's role in Liara's death.

Around this time, as well, Joker and Dr. Chakwas were on the shortlist to join Cerberus. We needed them with us for this mission, in order to help Shepard feel more comfortable. We also needed Dr. Chakwas' expertise for the Lazarus Project, as her intuition regarding Shepard's immunity would have been invaluable to us going forward. But they had both been far too adamant about joining at first. Outright refusing unless we were able to negotiate with them.

I remembered how I'd felt with those frustrations, those pressure points brimming all at once:

Ashley constantly asking me to tell her how I felt about Shepard. My unsent email with her answers.

The Illusive Man pressuring me to find another solution.

Joker and Dr. Chakwas essentially playing phone tag with me, wanting to join Cerberus for their own personal freedoms and ambitions, but then backtracking and insisting that I needed to persuade them.

The high-pressure environment surrounding the Lazarus Project, and my need to execute everything to perfection, down to the exact detail, as always.

Liara existing in my dreams quite often. Encouraging me to do what I thought was best, no matter what. All as that reminder about how I'd needed her to stick around. How she had been the key to Shepard's well-being. How I actually missed her as that potential friend of mine. My only possible friend—and the one I should have been in daily communication with about the project, about Shepard's progress. Next to Tali'Zorah, possibly, Liara was the only other person I would have trusted with Shepard's heart. Without question.

And my constant fears about Ashley ruining everything. Breaking Shepard's heart. Breaking Shepard entirely. Breaking everything, destroying everything, and burning everything to the ground in her reckless abandon…

Here, I finally paused. Not knowing how to proceed. Not knowing how to word myself.

Shepard gave me a moment first.

A long moment, with this silence stretching between us. Endlessly.

I realized then just how transparent I had been with her thus far. How I had told Shepard the whole truth. But now that I was at this juncture, surrounding the matter of that email with my heart's confessions, and my decision to switch her protector, I couldn't continue. I didn't know what to say.

All the while, Shepard regarded me with such patience. As if she believed every word I'd given her. As if she didn't mind my struggle in this moment, still stretching on between us.

In her compassion, Shepard prompted me, "I take it you were at your wit's end at this point."

The obvious answer: "Yes…"

"What helped you?" she wondered. "You must've had some type of epiphany."

"I did," I confirmed. "While I was inside your consciousness through Legion's game, piecing your memories together, I saw the answer around me. I had spent all that time within your mind. Exposed to Prothean technology by way of your memories, of the Ciphers within your consciousness. Your powers remained open, and still are, so there was no need for anyone to reopen them once I made the switch. I've never interacted with a beacon, and I'm not a Prothean expert like Liara was. But it doesn't matter. As you pointed out before, you and I established a connection throughout the Lazarus Project, while you felt me putting you back together. I had known this before, but I wasn't exactly sure when the connection would manifest itself. Either way, I had already satisfied the requirements to be your protector instead."

Shepard understood. "So this is the other solution."

"Yes…it is," I confessed, feeling an awful weight lift from my shoulders. "I considered every other angle first. I didn't make this change lightly. I can assure you—it was a last resort. I've never had to deal with that many black boxes on a project. I felt blind." Remembering the rest with a sigh, I told her: "But that didn't take care of the issue of your well-being. It was unclear whether or not Liara was still in your mind in the same way as before. Ashley already had a foothold there. I was worried about this."

I had never told Ashley that she wasn't the only one who had been present there.

I'd also spotted Tali in that space, clearly. Helping to maintain Shepard's softer side. Keeping her docile and gentle when it mattered most. And far more than that, past the fence. Off within the known unknown, unconscious and unreachable. Something more obvious, more sexual had caught my attention as well. Fascinating the hell out of me.

Yet I decided to bring this up to her later. Now simply wasn't the time.

Shepard noted, "And when you tried to warn Ash that I might be different, she didn't take you seriously."

"Not at all," I supplied. "She practically blew off my concerns. Though she did have one thing right."

Shepard asked, "What do you mean?"

"Ashley agreed with me when I said we could only wait and see," I relayed. "She also pointed out that you are your own person. You know yourself best. I wanted a more controlled resolution. But after thinking about it some more, it made the most sense. I could only hope that your instincts would save you, when you needed them most. It looks like I made the correct call. You seemed to have figured out what I did. Right when you were at your most vulnerable. I'm guessing this helped mitigate your reaction when Ashley hurt you."

"You guessed right."

I smiled a bit, speaking softly, "Then I'm glad I was able to help. I'm relieved that you're all right."

Shepard held onto my smile, and my softness, finding my truest sincerity.

As she did, I noticed…the way her pupils dilated. Darkening in size as a black sun. Taking me in.

Suddenly short of breath, I averted my eyes from hers. Away from that dilating, that blackening. Her absolute concentration in studying me, picking up on everything I gave off, with or without meaning to.

Shepard's tone remained direct. "You did this, knowing that you had everything to lose. In case I found out at the wrong time. In case Ashley somehow found out. It wouldn't have ended well for you."

"Yes…I know."

"Your feelings for me must be pretty strong. Aren't they?"

Privately, I thought to myself:

Of course I wanted Shepard. Of course I needed her.

Of course I wanted and needed her all to myself. Perfectly exclusive—with no one standing in my way.

More than obvious, I…more-than-wanted her. More-than-needed her. Of course I did. Of course.

And that may have influenced my decisions…but I couldn't let myself think about that right now.

"My personal feelings are irrelevant. We have our mission. Nothing can get in the way of that."

This time, Shepard didn't seem to believe me. Or rather, she didn't believe my defenses. My shields. My need to protect myself from being too vulnerable around her.

She already knew me better than that.

So I made myself clear: "This is probably obvious by now, Commander. But I didn't make this switch as a way to force your heart into my hands. Whatever happens between us…I want it to be real. Genuine. And if nothing happens, then our professional relationship as superior and subordinate will be sufficient to deal with the Reapers—given that we survive the suicide mission against the Collectors. I won't act on my feelings unless you show an interest in me. As with everything else, this is your decision. Not mine."

Shepard observed me again.

Concentrating.

Picking up on my giveaways, my clues.

How I had yet to re-establish stronger eye contact with her. How I had shifted in my seat several times now, crossing my legs beneath my desk; trying not to betray how soaked I was, again, simply from being around her. How she analyzed every bend, every arch, every shape of my body within her sight's reach, possibly finding me to her standards. Or even surpassing her standards, her tastes, her interests—I hoped. Almost predatory in her focus, she established the clear structure between us. That this really was her decision. That she was impressed with me for my foresight, and my intelligence, but it wasn't yet enough for her to let her guard down. If anything, she expected me to break character first before that would happen.

And I knew that I would.

With this, too, it was only a matter of time.

Once she was satisfied, Shepard replied with, "I'll think it over, then."

No outright rejection.

No insistence that I was crazy for feeling this way about her at all; for making the choices that I had made.

And no judgment, either…

I let out a breath, relieved. "Of course. We've both been through a lot lately. There's no rush."

I hoped that Shepard picked up on my meaning—that there was truly no rush. I needed to take my time.

She appeared to understand what I meant.

Shepard then changed the subject with her understanding, with her impeccable timing: "I'll reiterate what I said to Joker and Dr. Chakwas. I'm done with these lies. The deception. I expect complete honesty with you from here on out. I've had enough of people lying to me. Because if Liara or Ashley had just told me the truth, then none of this would've happened. So I need your word that we're not going to have any repeats of the past."

Aside from my factual honesty, I knew what else Shepard expected.

Being completely vulnerable to someone like her, with my feelings, instead of hiding them away.

I almost couldn't stand the mere thought of this…but I was loyal to her. In every way imaginable.

And so I agreed to obey her wishes. "I understand, Commander. You'll have my full honesty."

Shepard stood up to leave. On a sudden reflex, I stood up with her. Mimicking her. Needing her to stay.

Already so fucking attached to her. Attached to her acceptance, to the promise of earning more rewards. More validation. After I had told her everything, shared everything…except the obvious.

Sensing this, Shepard rewarded me again: "Miranda, allow me to recognize your accomplishments. You chose to make extraordinary sacrifices for the sake of the mission. For my sake. I appreciate your tenacity, your patience, and your superior intelligence in knowing what you had to do, and executing your plan down to a brilliant science. You also helped our team in ways that I can never repay you for. Your enduring loyalty to me is greater than anyone could ever hope to achieve. You've surpassed the ones who tried before, standing atop the ashes of their successes, and their failures. So you've earned your place by my side." This momentous pause. This purpose in her eyes. She was completely serious… "In light of your decisions, your sacrifices, and your loyalty, I'm naming you as my second-in-command. As my executive officer and my primary fire team leader, the team will look to you whenever I'm not available. This includes on the ship and on the battlefield. No separation this time. No distinction. Will you accept? Knowing all that I've lost, can I count on you?"

Swelling with this feeling that it had all been worth it, I saluted her. "Yes, Commander. I accept. You can fully count on me. I'll continue to do all that I can to support you. You have my promise. Thank you…"

And the swell of my sacrifices catching up to me—Shepard saw this mild sheen over my eyes.

She returned my salute with her strength. Believing in this initial promise of our connection together.

I bolstered my strength with her own. Not at all proportionate. Not at all how I would have wanted.

Shepard informed me, "I'm going to speak with Admiral Hackett about all of this. He should be expecting a call from me pretty soon. So I'm heading up to my room." These damned stitches over my heart were about to burst open. "Get some rest overnight. I'll plot a course for Omega to pick up that salarian scientist. We should arrive at 0900 hours. Will you be ready to continue with the mission by then?"

So uncertain… "Yes, Commander. I should be ready to proceed."

"If you change your mind," she stipulated, "Then I want you to let me know. There's no shame in that."

"Of course," I replied, forcing my voice to remain perfectly still. "That's kind of you."

Shepard gave me one final look. Giving me one chance to tell her what I wanted. To tell her what was on my mind. To share these humiliating truths that I couldn't give a voice to. Even after I had sworn my total and complete honesty to her not moments before.

But she seemed to allow me this type of exception.

In a way, this was an expression of my feelings. My feelings that I'd already said I would keep to myself.

With that, Shepard took her leave.

Leaving my office.

Leaving through the door, with those hissing sounds marking her exit.

Leaving me to this silence: the calming, ambient hum of the Normandy's equipment running smoothly.

Leaving me alone without her. Without Ashley. Without anyone.

I wasn't sure how long I remained standing here behind my desk. Staring out to the abyss of the green permission over my door, hoping that Shepard would somehow know to return. All while not quite processing how alone I was, but still managing to feel it anyway. All while absolutely feeling this heated moisture building over my eyes, stronger now. So much hotter, thicker, and more persistent in this reminder of how alone I was. All over again, after all of my choices. My sacrifices.

Not knowing what else to do, I left my office.

Wandering to the elevator. Up to the command deck.

Wandering through the empty lab, going around this way to the comm room. Not through the armory. Not through where Ashley would have decided to work on the ship. If she'd had the chance first.

Wandering into the comm room itself. Using the QEC to place a call. The only call I could at this hour.

Accepting my rather rude call, given the hour, the Illusive Man welcomed me.

Welcoming me into the illusion of his surroundings across this space between us, I saw him there. Sitting before that supergiant, that molten red about to encroach on his location. Perfectly patient as he sat in his chair, defiant before that inevitable encroaching. Existing there, with his back to that impending pandemonium. Choosing to face me instead. Smoking his cigarette, he otherwise gave me his full attention, knowing what had occurred. Needing me to provide him with an update.

Just a debriefing.

Only a debriefing.

Knowing of this pandemonium encroaching within me, the Illusive Man merely asked, "How did it go?"

Limiting myself, hating myself, clutching my arms around myself—these handful of tears were enough to betray me. The Illusive Man knew what Shepard had done. He knew that the team was ready to accept this new reality going forward, finally living in the truth. He knew that Shepard and I had had a conversation in my office, though he couldn't know what exactly we'd discussed. Hence his question, seemingly so impersonal and objective. That was what it seemed like, but he of course knew me better than that. He certainly did. Mostly. Almost.

He couldn't know how terrified I was. Clutching myself like this to keep from shaking—I couldn't help thinking back to that sight in Ashley's room. Her corpse on the floor. Bleeding out like that after Shepard had executed her point-blank. Even with Shepard's newfound belief in me, I knew… If I made one wrong move, one catastrophic mistake, then it was over. No matter how perfect I was supposed to be. No matter my accomplishments, my tenacity, my patience, my intelligence and my sacrifices, it wouldn't matter. None of it would.

If I made a mistake, then I would end up just like Ashley.

And there wouldn't be any backups. No plans in the works behind-the-scenes. No alternatives.

I could keep telling myself over and over that I'd had to do this.

That it was necessary.

But in this moment, with the Illusive Man watching me, watching as I struggled not to cry too much before the fog of his smoking, I felt the build-up. I felt myself forced into this corner, with no way out. I felt the full effects of all that I had done. Knowing that Ashley was gone. Knowing that she had trusted me, and relied on me to protect her, only for me to betray her in the end. Despite all of my hatreds and fears, I knew that I had trusted and relied on her, too. I really had. I'd needed to take care of her and shelter her and spoil her with attention because of how depraved I was. And not only from wishing I could do those things for Oriana, for my own twin sister who didn't even know I existed.

But because of Shepard.

Because I longed to take care of her in those same ways, exactly like I'd done during the project.

Because I fucking needed her to reciprocate and do those things for me. Not only as a one-way street.

All for so many reasons.

So many reasons I couldn't begin to compartmentalize right now.

What little I could make sense of: in this normal, healthy, and understandable separation from Shepard, I felt her absence. I felt it in my arms. As if she had been ripped away from my hold, all from her single decision to leave my office earlier. Ripped right from my arms that I kept clamped around myself, pretending that she was here. Because now that she was around me, now that we were both on this ship together, I couldn't stand to be apart from her. Now that I had shared so much with her, nearly all that I had gone through while she was dead, I couldn't handle being away from her anymore.

And I hated it.

I hated this.

I despised that I couldn't just be on my own anymore.

I detested how attached I was to her, already.

Yet if I messed up with her, then she wouldn't hesitate. Shepard wouldn't hesitate to make me pay. No matter how much I felt for her or sacrificed for her or destroyed for her, if I crossed that line of her tolerances, then that was it. Just like Ashley, the strength of my emotions for her wouldn't be strong enough, wouldn't be good enough to keep me safe from her judgment.

What if I was next?

What if I failed?

There wouldn't be anyone else left…

The Illusive Man put out his cigarette, premature. He stood up from his chair. Walking toward me, closer to my form through the QEC, he reached me here. Standing taller than me in his self-assurance, his flawless personal security. Existing next to me as he was…as if to embrace me in this way. In the only way he knew how. Sympathetic, his form shadowed with the red of that dying light behind him. Understanding, the eerie blue glow of his eyes remained on me, unobscured by smoke or by distance.

"Miranda, you and Shepard both represent the very best of humanity. I wouldn't trust this responsibility with anyone else. Shepard did as I needed her to do. When I spoke with her before, I wasn't sure if we could trust her. If she would be foolish enough to stay with Williams anyway, even after the inevitable hurt and lies. Shepard was notoriously difficult to read, after all. But she's proven herself in my eyes. A thousand times over. I hope that means something to you."

Sniffling harder than I should have, I told him, "It does… It does mean something to me. It means a lot."

"I know what you're afraid of," he appeased, oddly soothing. "You're scared that you'll mess up somehow. That Shepard won't show any mercy, should you cross her. But you already know that won't come to pass. It's frankly impossible. And you already know why that is." Disbelieving, all I could do was shake my head, hating that these tears welled harder in my eyes. "No one in this galaxy is more dedicated to her than you are. No one, in all of creation, could hope to make the same sacrifices you have made, and still live to tell the tale. No one loves her more than you do." Needing and hating those words, I couldn't stop the rest of this damned crying. "I watched you struggle with this for years. Ever since you first joined Cerberus. Your hard work, your suffering, and your deep loneliness have all finally paid off. You'll be safe in Shepard's hands, stained as they are with the blood of the women who were once in your way. She's exactly what you need. I want you to start believing in this. The sooner the better."

Spiraling off somewhere—or about to spiral—I couldn't believe in anything.

Everything felt so dark.

Cold. Hopeless.

But the Illusive Man still said to me, "This is your throne now, Miranda. You've earned it. Stay true to your loyalties with Shepard, and everything will be fine. I trust her to take care of you. We can trust her. I believe in you both. And I fully believe you'll get through this. I know you will. You always do."

I barely heard my own voice. "Yes, Sir… Thank you."

When the call ended, and my surroundings dissolved from that illusion, back to the Normandy…

The reality of my emotions caught up to me.

Alone in the comm room. Barely standing. Still crying like this, still clutching my arms around myself for some type of control, I was about to break. Everything had crashed down on me. Everything, everything that I had done, scheming and plotting and lying and deceiving and bending and breaking other peoples' minds to suit my needs, to suit what was necessary… I knew what I was. I knew exactly what I was.

So fucking desperate. Depraved. Disillusioned from all that I lacked and had never had.

I was nothing.

No one.

I wasn't real.

Nothing about me mattered.

Nothing about my identity belonged to me.

Only my mistakes. Only my inevitable mistakes with Shepard, leading to so many lives lost. Everything. Gone. Even after all that I'd thrown away. Even after standing atop the ashes of the ones who had tried before. Right over their blood. Because mine would be there someday. It was inevitable. Unavoidable.

So cold, and dark. Hopeless, harder.

I couldn't do this.

I couldn't handle this.

It was too much, all after twenty years of destroying myself already. Destroying what didn't exist.

But right when I was about to give in…right when I was about to fall into this darkness, I saw a light.

I felt the light.

I felt that warm, compassionate sunlight on me, wrapping her arms around my waist. That golden brown complexion, soaking in the light of the room—and shining in a slight wetness, as she had recently showered. And collecting more of my shame that had fallen from my face, still slipping now. Collecting over her skin, the slim sinew of her arms, so strong in purpose and protective intent with me. Higher up, the blue of her short sleeves over her defined biceps: Alliance blue. Alliance fatigues, as those solid blues mixed with the lighter collection of camouflage. And down behind me, the sturdiness of her matching combat boots kept us both in place.

Shepard held me from behind like this. Wearing her Alliance colors, while the Cerberus logo over my uniform had already been doused with my near-failure. So close, so near; Shepard had caught me right at that moment. Right when I had been about to spiral into the worst. Something far worse than I had ever fallen into before.

Knowing how inescapable this could have been, Shepard tried to turn me around in her hold.

Not wanting her to see, I hissed out, "Don't. Don't look at me."

Not minding at all, Shepard held me more. Holding me tighter, to keep me standing like this. But as she did, I felt myself panicking more. Almost short of breath. Fearing: because I'd never expected to have her affection. Not now, not ever. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what to do, what to think. So terrified of where this could go. She could have broken me. She could have.

Shepard could have ended me in this way instead. And I would have loved every second of it in my masochistic terror. She could have destroyed me in the same ways that I had done to Ashley, all without killing me. Something worse. Something that depended on my bleeding heart for her. Something for Shepard to enjoy, to find her sadism from…all in consent. All in discovery. All in enjoyment. All in that type of trust I had never, ever given to anyone before—only taken on my own, for fear of what this other side was like. Fearing it so much more with her affection. With how capable she was. With how capable I was of giving everything to her. Doing anything for her. Whether she asked me to or not.

So tender in her candor, in her control, speaking right in my ear. "Miranda, are you afraid of me?"

Needing my own control, needing my control back, I told her anyway, "Yes!"

"Are you afraid of what you're capable of?"

"Yes…I am. I'm afraid. I'm terrified of myself, who I am. What I am. What I'm not. What I will sacrifice for you. I will do anything for you. And I hate it. Goddamnit, I hate it! I hate how much I… How I can't—"

How much I need you. How I can't live without you.

Shepard understood.

"Listen to me," she soothed, far more effective. "You don't have to go through this alone. Not anymore. I'm here now." Reinforcing, she smoothed her arms higher around my waist, making me arch into her. "I don't want you to keep worrying on your own. We've both been through hell and back. So we need to recover. I'm putting the mission on hold for the time being." Realizing how out of sorts I was, I couldn't even object to that. "I've already set the course on the galaxy map. We're going home. I want you to stay with me while I'm there. The guest room is yours. I'll look after you. All right?"

Home…

After so many years of worrying on my own, looking after myself…her offer sounded quite wonderful.

Needing to believe her.

Needing to trust her.

"All right," I made myself say. "But…for how long?"

"However long we need," she soothed, more. "A few days, or a few weeks. Until we're okay again."

Somehow, Shepard managed to escort me back to my office, my room. An even bigger mystery, I managed to pack my usual Burberry bag with whatever I needed for these days or weeks: products for my hair and skincare routine, for my makeup, for showering and for whatever else; and for my monthly problem coming up tomorrow or so, which I of course wanted to blame for my ridiculous hormones and emotions, even though I knew better. Shepard noted that she would allow me to link up my holo-closet to the one in her guest room, so I wouldn't need to bring any clothes. I only brought a jacket, then, not really knowing why. When I was done, I then managed to sit with her on one of my couches, near a window. Leaning on her for support as she held me together in her arms; basking in her full presence, her smooth scent. Watching as we approached Earth.

I believed her.

I trusted her.