Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters. They are products of BioWare, EA and certainly not me. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes; no profit or intrusion of copyright is intended.

Eyes closed, Miranda's head lulled from one side to the other as consciousness slowly returned. Cool metal at her back, she lay outstretched. No pain lingered from any injuries other than the dull throb at her temples. Bright overhead lights disrupted her peaceful slumber and magnified her headache, even with her eyes closed. Raising a hand to shield her eyes, she forced them open, squinting at the assaulting lights.

Glancing around, her vision settled as she realized her position on a table in the medical bay. With a soft groan, she forced herself into a sitting position, hunched slightly. Her white cat suit lay in tatters on the counter across the bay. Eyeing her attire, she tugged at the standard Cerberus casual uniform she wore.

"Your usual outfit is ruined." A feminine voice stated from the side.

Miranda turned her head quickly and nodded at the doctor. She moaned and rubbed her head, eyes closing momentarily at the quick movement. "Yes, I remember a little. What happened? I don't remember getting here."

The doctor approached Miranda with various instruments and tools, scanning the younger woman's body for any remaining injuries. "You were injured severely on Illium. The Commander revived you but you had inhaled too much of the red sand and collapsed soon after leaving the police station. He carried you back here."

"Carried me?" Miranda furrowed her brow and frowned. "But he was injured. Is he injured?" She asked quickly and tilted her head up at the doctor's bidding. When the doctor slowly waved a finger before Miranda's gaze, the Cerberus officer followed the movement with her eyes. "He was shot. There was blood."

"Yes, he was shot. Multiple times." The doctor responded. "You seem to be alright. No concussion, no more lingering effects. It took six hours to flush your lungs but you should feel fine. Perhaps a cough while any residual particles are expelled."

"Where's Shepard?"

Doctor Chakwas motioned to the bed behind Miranda with a motion of the head. "Fifteen bullet wounds. I don't know how he survived, much less managed to carry you back through the Normandy and get in here. He refused treatment until I had you on the table and the scans running. I'd never seen him like that before."

Miranda twisted at the waist to look behind her at the other metallic table. Shepard lay on his back, naked with a towel draped over his hips. Sensors and metallic bars swept over his body with a rhythmic hum slowly healing the puncture wounds from the inside outward. She pushed to her feet, steadied herself then walked to Shepard's side, looking down at the wounds on his chest. "Fifteen?"

"Fifteen," Doctor Chakwas reaffirmed. "I have no idea what you did to him to bring him back to life but whatever you did, he's invincible. That or his will power is so strong, he refused to drop until everything finished."

Miranda nodded slowly as she watched the sleeping Shepard. "Let me know when he awakens."

"Of course, Lawson." The doctor agreed. "He will likely need another twenty four hours for the wounds to fully heal. You are free to go just don't overexert yourself. If you feel strange or find it hard to breathe, even the slightest, come back. We can rerun the scanners."

"Thank you," Miranda turned from Shepard and gathered her white uniform. She inspected the holes, torn and cut then rubbed her finger over the dried blood – hers or Shepard's she was unsure. Fisting the ruined outfit, she nodded in thanks to the doctor and left the medical bay.

Shepard's eyes fluttered as he awoke from the longest sleep of his life. Moaning, he stirred, shifting his weight on the metallic table in the medical bay.

"Easy, Commander. Take your time."

He recognized the voice. Doctor Chakwas. Shivering, he exhaled a heavy sigh and forced his eyes open. Moments passed as his vision adjusted to the lights. Scratching his bare chest, he lifted his head to look down at his body. He wore only a pair of form fitting boxer shorts. The bullet wounds on his chest healed completely, the skin bearing no signs of the trauma.

"It's good to see you awake, Commander." The doctor said with a warm smile. "You've been in here for about thirty six hours."

Shepard groaned, rubbing his eyes with a hand and tugged forcefully pulled his fingers along his cheeks to wake himself. "Thirty six hours? Where?" He turned his head to the side and stared at the empty medical bed.

"She's fine, Commander," Chakwas eased his curiosity. "She recovered hours ago. No residual injuries."

"Good. What about me?" He ducked his chin into his chest.

"Indestructible, so it seems. Your injuries would have killed another man during the battle. Yet here you are after walking back to the ship and carrying the weight of a crewmember. I also took the opportunity to run the tests you asked about." Chakwas turned from Shepard to grab a tablet off of the counter and presented the information to the Commander. "I ran the scans twice. There is no sign of any computerized chip in your head. The disturbances you see …" she pointed at the corresponding parts of the scan results behind the eye and at the center of the skull. "… appear to be from your healing through the Lazarus Project. That information isn't available to me so I cannot be entirely sure."

"What are they? Those parts?"

The doctor traced a line along Shepard's head beginning at the scar on his forehead. "Here, is the incision where a metal plate was inserted into your skull. Judging from its placement, the bone was shattered and the metal is to replace that part of your skull. It healed perfectly and fused with your bone, as was to be expected. The scar remains due to additional scar tissue from the stitching to seal your head at the surface level. Chances are it was sewn before the skin fully healed. Then when the stitches were removed, it puckered as the skin stretched and reformed around your new skull. I'm fascinated by the whole process, but Cerberus is not very revealing about their pet projects."

Shepard nodded then pointed to the shadowed area behind the eye socket on the tablet. "And this?"

"Ah. Yes, I wasn't sure at first." The doctor stated, professionally and used another tablet to expand the view of the area. "It seems that is actually an implant. The retina of your left eye was completely severed and frozen due to the extremes in temperatures and the exposure to space after you were jettisoned out of the Normandy. So this shadow on here is the implant acting as your retina, allowing your vision."

Frowning, Shepard looked up at the doctor. "Miranda said they brought me back perfectly. Then again, I did … I remember when I was leaving the facility I saw a few of the data logs. It said when I was recovered I was in a horrible state. Miranda didn't even think the Lazarus Project would work because I was so … degenerated."

The doctor nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised if your eyes weren't even yours. Being exposed to that kind of pressure… " She slowly shook her head. "Your bone structure is the same. I recognized you the moment I saw you but it has been two years Commander and, forgive me, but I did not memorize the exact hue of your eyes."

Shepard chuckled and looked down at the tablet again. "So no … devices? Nothing to alter consciousness or my decision making?"

"Nothing, Commander. Nothing that any of my scans have found."

"But …"

"It seems what you have been told is correct. They wanted you brought back exactly as you were. Well almost. You do have implants and a lot of stabilizing in your skeletal structure." The doctor stepped away to grab a small mirror and brought the glass to Shepard. "I also took advantage of you being here and went ahead with the cosmetic surgery you were interested in."

"Really?" Shepard held the mirror up and looked at the reflection. He turned his head one way then the next, reaching up with his free hand to touch his cheek and jaw. No more scars. He smiled. "Thanks, Doctor. It looks fantastic."

"Oh, it wasn't much. The scars were quite faint anyway."

"If they were normal scars I wouldn't have minded. But they damn well nearly glowed. I don't need any more reminders that I'm not the same man and instead was reconstructed from the dead."

"I think your right," Garrus said casually from the door, leaning against the console with arms crossed. "You sure as hell aren't the same man you were then."

Shepard glanced up and smirked at the turian. "Glad to see you're happy I'm alive."

"I'm surprised you are after that stunt you pulled back in the eclipse base."

"What stunt?" Shepard staggered up onto his feet, wincing as his sore muscles adjusted to his weight. Though the wounds healed, the muscles remained sore – a necessary side effect to quick rejuvenation.

"You know damn well what stunt I'm talking about." Garrus pushed off the wall to stalk closer to Shepard. "Diving out of cover in the middle of a firefight and nearly get yourself killed while …"

"That wasn't a stunt," Shepard defended intensely, eyes narrowed at Garrus. "I will never let a member of my team fall. Not like that. I got her out of the red sand and out of the bullet fire. That was all."

"Bullshit, that wasn't all." Garrus responded coolly. "You charged out of cover with barely a hesitation leaving a majority of that fight to me because you were too busy screwing around with Lawson. You never did anything like that before. The mission was first. Survival. You did what had to be done even if it meant something was sacrificed."

"Sacrificed to a point, Garrus. How many times did I pull you out of the fire and heal you in the midst of battle."

"Really? Did you do that when the gunship took me down in Omega? I don't recall you doing that. Giving up the fight to heal me. No, this is not the same thing."

"So what, would you have preferred I leave her to suffocate in the sand? Is that what you wanted?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth," Garrus snapped. "To pull her out of the firefight and administer the medi-gel is one thing. To carelessly lose sight of all your enemies and leave your other teammate to fend for themselves is putting my life at risk. I said I'd follow you into hell, Shepard, but not if you're going to be so obsessed and distracted by Lawson that I'm gonna die before we even get to a Collector base."

"Nobody, and I mean nobody is going to die if I have anything to say about this." Shepard spat. "Everyone is labeling this a suicide mission, and yeah, maybe it is. But I will not leave a member of my team behind. So I took a few bullet wounds. You took a gunship blast to the face!"

"Not because I was too busy cooing over a woman!"

In her office across the mess hall and not far from the medical bay, Miranda worked diligently at her station, entering the reports into the system to be sent to the Illusive Man. She checked the system for any status reports about the mission and read the information Garrus entered regarding the mission in the eclipse sister's hideout. She reread the report numerous times in a vain attempt to understand Shepard's actions.

Picking up the tablet with the report, she stood and paced into her bedroom, eyes on the wording on the tablet before she tossed it on the bed with a sigh. Turning back to her desk, she paused to look at herself in the mirror, searching as if something were lost.

She had discarded the white suit she had grown fond of and instead wore a dark blue skin tight suit, its accents yellow and red. She ran her fingers along the firm plastic-like material. Though she preferred the white suit for comfort, the blue suit offered more armor, more protection and stylistically more flattering. Not that style mattered. Utility over comfort.

Loud booming voices echoed through the crew's chambers and the muffled voices reached her office through the closed doors. She frowned and looked up, listening carefully. "So what, would you have preferred I leave her to suffocate in the sand? Is that what you wanted?"

Shepard.

Miranda purposefully strode from her office. Outside the door she glanced around the mess area then passed the quietly gathered crew to the windows of the medical bay. Garrus argued with Shepard, voices raised and audible to anyone in the mess hall. Miranda turned cool eyes to the crew. "Back to your stations. Now."

"Yes, ma'am." A few members of the crew responded though all quickly scattered to return to their duty, at least to leave the area. Her heeled boots clicked rhythmically as she crossed the hall to the medical bay.

Shepard turned his back on his friend, hands pressed into the table as he leaned heavily for support. "I was not cooing, Garrus. I was helping her. And I was killing mechs and mercs as well. So don't even start but saying anything about that."

"Aye, killing what? You took more bullets than you ever have before … combined. I don't even know how you're alive. Probably some regenerative cybernetic implant or something. Who knows what Cerberus put inside you!"

"Garrus …" Shepard warned through clenched teeth and fiery vicious eyes.

"No Shepard, you listen to me." Garrus closed the distance between them. "After everything we've been through, you're my friend. And I'm here because you want me here. And yeah, I'll follow you into hell. But not if you're going to act like you did. You didn't do this for Alenko. You didn't even do this for Williams when she …"

"This isn't about Ashley or Kaiden or even you or anyone else on this God damn ship. Ok?" Shepard snarled.

"Yeah, I know." Garrus said simply. "That's the point. You wouldn't have done that for anyone on this ship. Except Lawson. She's a liability to this mission not because of anything she does. But because of how you react to her."

"Shepard," Miranda called from the door, her tone firm and demeanor cool. "Garrus is right."

Garrus turned quickly at that and looked at Miranda. Shepard lifted his head to glance in the direction. His expression initially relieved at the sight of her and then confused as her words settled in his mind. "Right? I … I will never leave a man behind again. Never! Look do we have to fucking do this now!" He snarled and rested his head in a hand. "I just god damn woke up and don't need this now."

"I would have to agree," Doctor Chakwas finally intervened. "Out of here, both of you." She directed Garrus and Miranda towards the door. "He just woke up not fifteen minutes ago and already he's being bombarded. Out. Out. Commander, after I ensure you're safe to return to duty, I expect you to return to your quarters and rest for a few hours while your body readjusts. Perhaps take a hot shower; Read some dossiers."

Garrus nodded quietly and walked to the door, pausing to look down on Miranda. "Lawson. No offense."

"None taken," Miranda responded smoothly.

He inclined his head in acceptance and walked out of the medical bay. Miranda lingered a moment before turning and left as well.

Miranda finished her evaluation of the Normandy systems from her desk, entered the log information then turned off that display screen. She tapped her fingers rhythmically on the desk, mind distracted and reflective over the events of the last forty eight hours. Two hours passed since she left the medical bay after interrupting the argument between Shepard and Garrus.

Tapping a few keys on her access terminal, she activated the camera in Shepard's quarters and watched intensely. The cabin appeared rearranged. His armor, usually scattered in the corner, was nowhere in sight. The bed rumpled and unmade, pillows scrunched at the head of the bed. Nothing sat on the desk, everything cleared away except for his personal terminal, a small display of medals and his model ships. Missing was the picture of Ashley Williams that had spent weeks in the corner, discarded but not forgotten.

Miranda flicked the switch to activate the microphone; muffled sounds of running water echoed through the empty cabin. Moments later, the water quieted and Shepard emerged from the bathing room. A white towel wrapped around his waist, water dripped from his muscular form and his short hair. He scratched the water from his hair then removed the towel to dry the remaining moisture from his body, his back to the camera.

Unashamed, Miranda watched him though her eyes focused more on his back and chest than anything below the waist. Concerned for his health, she examined for any residual scarring or damage from his heroic, albeit stupid, actions in the Eclipse base. No surprises remained physically of the commander; she knew every inch of his naked body. After all, she reconstructed it cell by cell.

Not that he wasn't a pleasant specimen to admire.

A small circular communication device on the bed stand flickered to life as an orange outlined hologram materialized. "Shepard," the Illusive man stated sternly then hissed in exhale as smoke billowed from his lips.

Shepard, still nude, glanced towards the image and huffed. "Was wondering what that thing was for."

"I have been waiting for you for ten hours. I don't … wait."

"Yeah, well, I've been a bit busy." Shepard stated flatly. "And I don't answer to you. This is my mission remember."

"No, I make you think this is your mission." The Illusive man exhaled again. "You have the choice how you go about completing the mission. But in the end? You have no say about the large scheme of things."

Shepard sighed, pulling on his formfitting boxers. "Is there a point to this visit or do you just get off to seeing me naked?"

"There is a very important purpose to this call." The Illusive man responded with warning. "I read the reports about what happened on Illium. I see you recruited the Justicar but at a cost."

"No cost. I did what I had to do."

"That, is where we disagree. We do have different methods, as you have pointed out before. But this method is entirely unacceptable."

Shepard pulled on his pants, fastening the belt. "And what exactly is unacceptable?"

The Illusive man snuffed out his cigarette. "You need to understand, Shepard, that you are the most important piece of this mission. Your crew, your team … they are fodder. Worthless. Expendable. Their sole purpose is to distract collector firepower so when the time comes to fight the collectors, you will be able to accomplish your task and stop them. That is all."

Shepard stared at the image and slowly shook his head, shocked. "You're supposed to represent an organization that is devoted to human life. And here you are telling me that life is worthless."

"Cerberus is devoted to humanity as a whole. At the expense of the few, the many will prosper. We are willing to sacrifice what must be sacrificed in order for humanity to persevere. It's a heroic sacrifice, one that all on board understands."

Shepard stalked away from the image to fetch a clean shirt from the drawers on the wall.

"Your crew mates can be replaced. People can be recruited and paid. Under no circumstance are you to risk your life to save one of them. They are all expendable."

"They're not expendable to me!" He exclaimed and turned fiery eyes on the image, fisting the shirt in his hand. "You got the report about what I did to save Miranda. Is that what this is about? She's supposed to be your right hand go to in all situations. Hell, I know with the snap of her fingers she can override any of my orders on this god damn ship. Did you think I was that stupid not to realize exactly what my situation was?"

"Not at all. I never thought you stupid. And yes, we're talking about what you did for Miranda. She is a valuable member of my team and should she fall, she would be missed. But in the end, she is replaceable. You, Shepard, are not."

Shepard pointed at the image, voice intense. "She is not expendable to me. No one on this ship is expendable. And it is my responsibility as their commander to ensure their safety even at the expense of my own life. You wanted me brought back exactly as I was and I am that man. My crew comes first. Always."

"You're wrong, Shepard. That is not the man you were. I recall a man sacrificing a friend for his own survival. You chose to leave Kaidan Alenko behind and not stay yourself. I recall battles where you were the last standing and brought down your opponents before tending to the wounded. Careless and blind emotions were not in your personality. The Lazarus project has obviously failed. You are a different person brought back." The Illusive man sighed. "Perhaps you have become too attached to your crew. At your next docking, I will have new officers and crewmates waiting. Your current crew is dismissed. Miranda and Jacob included."

"Go fuck yourself. I won't fly with anyone else. My crew stays or I walk." Shepard held his head high, calling the Illusive man's bluff. "That includes anyone I've recruited, Jacob and Miranda."

The Illusive man calmly lit another cigarette, inhaling then slowly exhaling. "Your emotions are unacceptable. They will blind you to what you must do to complete the mission. And this mission cannot fail."

"I don't have to explain anything else to you. If you touch any member of my crew, I'm coming for you personally. I will find you. And I will kill you, Collectors be damned."

"You would really throw away the future of humanity for revenge against me?"

"Without hesitation," Shepard responded simply. "I don't trust you and I don't trust Cerberus."

"I see," the illusive man puffed on his cigarette slowly before responding through clenched teeth as he held the smoke in his lungs. "So you don't trust me yet you trust your crew? Jacob? Miranda? They are all Cerberus."

"Cerberus is full of two kinds of people. No wait, three. The first are the xenophobes who are petrified of anything that isn't human. Then there are the people like you who know exactly what is going on and continue with their sick games under the guise of benefitting the greater good. And thirdly are the idealists who believe in the lies you tell them because let's face it, who can argue with preserving humanity in a hostile galaxy. Hell, even I can't. But there's more to Cerberus than that utopian goal. A dark and twisted core. And I don't trust it."

"Hmm," The Illusive man calmly responded as he crossed his legs. Smoke swirled upwards from the lit cigarette as he carefully chose his words. "Do you really think I don't still have control over every inch of that ship? With a snap of my fingers," for impact, he snapped then paused. "I could have them all jump."

Shepard grinned. "You really think they'll all just jump at your command? I know you have this entire god damn ship bugged with cameras and microphones. I know about that one right there." Shepard pointed towards the camera. "So just you try to get the crew to declare a mutiny. Then we'll see how far you get with the collectors. I think you underestimate the loyalty I can inspire in people."

Threatened, the Illusive man leaned forward as he barked. "Don't forget your place, Shepard. Remember who is responsible for you even being alive."

"Oh I won't forget that. Miranda Lawson."

"No," the illusive man pointed to himself. "It's me. I brought you back. I put you in the position you're in. I'm giving you unlimited funds to get what you need and find you the people you need for this mission."

"Your money is the least important part of this equation." Shepard grinned. "Miranda is the reason I'm here. She had your money, yeah. But it was her brains, her vision, determination, patience and leadership that made the project work. You can't just buy that; it's a gift and a skill. Money doesn't buy passion and willpower." Shepard tilted his head in thought. "Is that why you didn't want me to save her? I'd think she would be highly valuable to you with her biotics, her perfect genetics and her brains. So what … is it?"

The illusive man exhaled slowly from his cigarette in calm and unshaken demeanor.

Shepard paced before the hologram. "I think I understand. You're the money man, aren't you? You make the connections and get the funds and even compile the information. But Lawson? What a valuable tool." He taunted then stopped and crossed his arms. "Do your backers ask about her? Would they rather have her in charge of Cerberus than you? She's obviously capable of running an entire project, even a cell without any help. She can rally loyalty and fight as hard as any soldier I've ever seen. Do they prefer what she has to offer over you? What is it you can do, exactly?"

"Lawson serves me! And just as I've built her up, I could kill her with but a word." Illusive man snapped, uncrossing his legs to lean forward, chest puffed up in his anger. "Don't you forget that, Shepard."

"That so," Shepard walked to the bed stand and rested his hands on the edge to look directly at the hologram. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"That is the emotion I am talking about Shepard. You will be too busy worrying about me while the collectors are capturing more human colonists. Your passion will get you killed and will be the cause of the mission failure. I have the loyalty of your entire crew, never doubt that. Including Ms. Lawson."

Shepard scowled. "Who do you think she would follow? Hmm? A man who would throw her to the mercs to save his own career, sacrifice her without a blink to the collectors? Or a man that would risk his life to save hers in any circumstance? And not just once. I'd do it again and again," he tapped his finger on the bed stand to punctuate. "Without hesitation." He tilted his head, taunting. "So you tell me, where you think she would stand? Behind you? Or beside me?"

"She would kill you in an instant if I ordered it," Illusive man sneered. "She's ruthless, driven and cold. Don't kid yourself, Shepard. It's how she was designed."

"Maybe, but that's not who she is." Shepard responded and pushed off the bed stand. "So do it. Order the destruction of your four billion credit project." He motioned to his body with a hand.

"This is your mission, and I will give you free rein for most of the operation. But if you do not stay in line, Shepard, and obey my wishes when I give them, you will see your project eliminated. And that is not just you. But your crew as well."

The hologram disappeared before Shepard responded. With a heavy sigh, he sank onto the bed and rested his head in his hands, elbows on his knees for support. He growled in frustration and burst to his feet, turning on the bed stand, he crouched and braced it in his hands. His entire body clenched as he tried to lift it from its bolted place on the floor.

Unmoving, the bedstand remained firmly in place. Panting, Shepard stood and crossed away from the bed towards his desk then returned with a simple screwdriver. In his rage, he stabbed the screwdriver through the hologram transmitter. The device sparked and sizzled before finally shorting out, scorching the table black in a circular pattern around the device's affixed position.

Miranda sat back in her chair, blinking to alleviate the dry burning of her eyes from staring intently at the screen. When Shepard lay on the bed and tossed an arm over his eyes, she flicked off the camera feed. Staring blankly at the door from her office for nearly a minute, she finally leaned forward. Swallowing the lump in her throat she typed at her console and brought up the high level security access for the Cerberus camera system. With three taps and a swipe, she overloaded the wiring to the camera and microphone in Shepard's chambers.

The short blocked the two devices off of the security screen, flashing a momentary warning on Miranda's security screen. She overrode the coding and deleted the camera and microphone from the system. Teeth clenched, emotion simmering in the pit of her stomach, she closed her consoles and stood from her desk, walking into her private bedroom.

With a heavy sigh, she sat at the chair by the window and gazed, confused and uncertain, out at the stars.

Note: Hope you enjoy. Keep the hits/reviews coming.