Shepard raced through the back alleys of the Wards as a loud gunshot echoed through the air. He raced towards its origin, stopping when he found himself standing in front of the remnants of Chora's Den. It had been active recently, he noticed – multiple footsteps left their marks in the disturbed dust that covered the ground. He brought his pistol up – and slowly made his way inside.
A small shock appeared on his face when he came across a body – it was Morgan, or the man who pretended to be Morgan. Blood was oozing out of his skull, and a small puddle of blood circled his head. Shepard winced a little when he also noticed the hole in his throat.
He shook his head slightly, and it was then that his eyes finally gazed upon the form that was shaking violently on the other side of the club. Shepard inhaled sharply when he recognized the stark white Cerberus uniform.
He raced desperately over to Miranda, mustering all the urgency his body could gather. Panic filled his every pore as time seemed to slow down. Every step felt like an eternity – and the longer he watched her body shake and convulse, the more fear began to overtake him. She was only 20 feet away, but it felt like a lifetime.
When he reached her side, he realized just how bad the situation was. Blood trickled slowly from her mouth, her spasms having caused her to bite her tongue. As he cupped her head and brought it up into his lap, Shepard's face filled with horror as his hands felt the layer of caked blood in her hair. He hugged her tightly, trying to prevent her seizures from hurting her any further.
After a moment, he finally removed his eyes from the atrocity taking place in his arms and met her gaze with his own. His eyes burned with tears as he noticed the fire in her bright blue orbs was nearly extinguished. A strained cry escaped her throat as she tried to talk, but Shepard gently hushed her.
"Don't worry," he choked out, "I'm going to get you out of here. Just stay with me, Miranda – don't give up on me." He rose to his feet with her cradled in his arms.
He thought he felt her deliberately squeeze his arm – but with one final look at him, her body went limp. For a brief moment, Shepard's heart stopped. He couldn't lose this woman, he couldn't. His hand frantically began looking for a pulse – and relief swept over him when he found it.
She was still alive - she had only passed out from the pain. As he raced out of the club, Smith reappeared, her face turning to shock when she realized who was in his arms.
"Smith," he yelled, "pull yourself together and radio Joker. Tell him we're coming – and have him warn Mordin!"
Smith nodded quickly in acknowledgment, sending her hand up to her radio as soon as he finished the order. They were both dashing through the crowds, pushing aside people without hesitation. As Shepard ran – pushing his body to its absolute limits - his muscles burned and his legs were numb from exhaustion – but he didn't stop. When the shuttle they had brought here finally came into view, Shepard kicked open the door – gently placed Miranda on the seat behind him – and barely gave Smith enough time to put a leg inside when he accelerated into traffic and up to the docks.
The Agent watched Shepard leave with Miranda's body – he had contemplated killing them both right then and there, but had ultimately decided against it. He knew he couldn't beat Shepard in a shoot out – but what better way to weaken him than have him watch the woman of his dreams die before his very eyes.
The salarian laughed as he flipped the OSD through the air, victory being resounded by the sound of the disk spinning. He caught it easily in his palm, and placed it inside his jacket's pocket before walking into another dark alley of the Wards.
"One day, Shepard… One day…"
Joker and Mordin were waiting at the airlock when Shepard brought the shuttle to the lurching stop on the docks. He pushed open his door violently, forsaking any respect for the shuttle as he picked Miranda up again.
Mordin was already analyzing her before she was even inside, "Blood loss – substantial. Neural damage likely," he took a deep breath, "Difficult."
Shepard ignored him as he rushed past the decontamination chambers and into the science bay, laying Miranda down gently onto the table as Mordin brought a table of medical tools next to him. Shepard hadn't noticed that Miranda had opened her eyes, and when he did he immediately leaned over her – his eyes darting all across her face.
"Relax, Miranda – everything will be alright, I promise," he choked out. He could tell she was terrified, her eyes gave away everything. But he squeezed her hand, and reiterated his promise, "Everything will be alright."
She gave him a small smile before her eyes rolled back into her head – going limp once more.
He tried to keep his composure as Mordin continued scanning her, but as he looked down to inspect the woman he loved – he found it more difficult than he originally thought. Her pale skin was washed out and colorless – a visual proof that her life was being drained right out of her. The usually perfectly applied mascara was caked around her eyes – black stains trailed her cheeks. Her lips were stained with her own blood, the result of her spasms causing her to bite her tongue.
Growing increasingly worried by the second, Shepard finally looked up at Mordin, "Well?"
Mordin continued scanning, any awareness that Shepard was also in the room wasn't evident. He turned towards the medical table, his arms moving frantically. His body blocked Shepard's view, but when Mordin turned around a few seconds later – laying a syringe on the table – he got an answer that didn't exactly comfort him.
"Success not likely. Must neutralize poison before we treat other wounds."
Shepard's eyes shot up, "What do you mean success not likely?"
Mordin turned around again, this time producing a small vial with a neon blue substance floating around in it. He picked up the syringe in the other hand, and with care, punctured the vial and began extracting the fluid.
"Shepard, should know – side effects possible."
"What kind of side effects?" He asked, eyeing the vial cautiously.
Mordin withdrew the needle, set the vial on the medical table, and stared at Shepard, "Respiratory failure, cerebral hemorrhaging. Worst case scenario…"
He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly, "Death."
Shepard held his breath as he considered what Mordin set. His eyes were focused on the needle when he felt the slightest pressure in his hands. Looking down, he saw that Miranda was conscious once more.
"Shepard…" she barely made out, her voice gargled and barely audible. He gently hushed her as he brought his hand to her face.
"It's okay," he whispered, trying to maintain a strong front, "You're going to be okay."
Her eyes moved to the needled still in Mordin's hands. They stayed there for a second before she moved to meet Mordin's gaze.
"Do it," she mouthed to the scientist.
Mordin took another breath and sent the needle into her arm, slowly pushing the fluids into her system.
Her eyes returned to Shepard, a smile crept on her face. He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
Mordin nodded in approval, "Signs good. Can only wait now – see how body reacts."
Miranda started to nod when her body tensed – and a small cry of agony escaped her lips. She began grasping for breath – her eyes locked on Shepard, pleading with him to make it stop. Her body then began to shake, slightly at first – and then it progressed to how it was when Shepard first found her.
"Not good, not good," Mordin muttered as he turned his eyes to the medical station, trying to find something to stop the seizures.
Shepard tried to hold her as she thrashed violently in his arms, he knew there was nothing he could do and that thought made him feel more powerless than ever.
"Mordin! Do something!" Shepard yelled at the salarian.
"Nothing I can do – antidote failed."
It was then that the sounds of her vital machines echoed the tone that sent shivers down Shepard's spine.
His eyes returned to Miranda, only to find that the spark he had loved so much was gone. Her thrashing subsided as her body went limp in his eyes. Her grayish-blue eyes were empty. Her vitals had flat-lined, and the sound of the continuous bleep filled Shepard's ears.
Mordin checked his machines – the results dissatisfying him. He turned and moved to Miranda, loosening Shepard's hold on her enough that he could check for a pulse. Shaking his head, he looked up at Shepard, his gaze met with a blank stare.
Mordin rested a hand on his shoulder, "Shepard. I apologize." He took another deep breath, and walked towards the door, "I'll leave you be."
Shepard rested the body back down on the table. They had been together – and happy – just over 24 hours ago. He could still taste her lips from the night they spent together… the sound of her laugh and the way she smiled at him.
'She can't be gone.'
He fell to his knees, taking hold of her right hand in both of his – his walls breaking down as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.
During a time when revenge would have normally been the first thing on his mind, Shepard struggled to think of anything else but Miranda Lawson, whom he had loved fiercely – and lost the same.
To be continued….