A/N: Uggh this chapter was painful because I started writing the next two already and they were far more interesting to create. Ah, I just love Shep and Miranda talking so much. Discussssssionsssssssssssss.

As always, thank you so much for taking the time to read and/or review. I absolutely adore reading the feedback, opinions, and advice.

Both Miranda and the woman herself were pleased that Shepard managed to make it through Freedom's Progress without any more debilitating incidents. For Shepard, the worst part had honestly been seeing Tali. She was a dear friend, a familiar face in what had so far been a sea of aloof strangers. A glimmer of hope lit up in Shepard at the reunion, and though she played it calm and collected, she had been near bursting on the inside.

Instantly, her mind had begun buzzing. The Illusive Man had claimed that if she was dissatisfied with the evidence they found, she was free to walk, leaving Cerberus far in her wake. Shepard was far from gullible, and found the statement less than reassuring. She was a project, an asset. When push came to shove and she really tried to leave, he would hardly be holding the door open for her. That was why she figured she needed to somehow subtly get across to Tali that she was not exactly there of her own accord.

Miranda proved to be the kink in her plans. Her clearly overwhelming intelligence had far from escaped Shepard's notice. She was sure to know morse code, or be able to pick apart any verbal cues Shepard could offer her Quarian friend. It didn't help that apparently the Illusive Man had ordered Miranda to watch her like a predator. The cold blue eyes followed her every movement, never wavering as they scrutinized her with a fierce intensity.

In the end, Tali had left, thinking her friend was in complete control of her situation. Shepard had felt a bit defeated as she piled back onto the shuttle with Jacob and Miranda in tow, though far from ready to give up. They returned to the station and once again she was asked to speak with her new employer. The Illusive Man seemed keen to reinforce in her mind just how alone she was in the universe. Shepard could tell it was a clear ploy to make her feel isolated, to coerce her in placing more trust in his people than she normally would have. She refused to let his assertions affect her though. Shepard had friends, she knew that. Powerful ones that would come to her aid if only they knew she was still breathing.

Shepard left their latest meeting, claiming she would help resolve the galaxies latest threat. It was true of course; she merely intended to do it with the military at her back. Miranda was waiting for her just outside the room, Jacob by her side, and a third man standing a few paces behind them.

Shepard's heart sank as she recognized him at once. "Joker?" What had these people done to get Joker here? Had he been captured? Brainwashed?

He took an unsteady step forward, an almost sheepish expression on his face. "Hey, Commander. Just like old times, huh?"

She stood, speechless. This wasn't right, it was wrong. All wrong. Was it really Joker standing there? "What are you…" she trailed off, swallowing hard. "Why?" she finally managed.

Jacob glanced between the two of them, and shifted uncomfortably from leg to leg. "We'll give you guys a couple of minutes to catch up." Miranda seemed to hesitate for a moment, but eventually she followed Jacob's lead and the pair set off down the hall together with matching strides.

With a rather uncharacteristically shy smile, Joker moved closer. "I can't believe you're standing here. I mean, I saw you get spaced." He grimaced at the foul memory. "Shepard," he hesitated, voice getting softer. "About what happened-"

Shepard cut him off immediately. She didn't want an apology, she needed an explanation. "Forget it, why are you here?"

Her head swam as he explained the events following the Normandy's destruction. The team falling apart, the council and the Alliance's reluctance to see reason, it was all as it had been described to her. Joker's story fit the Illusive Man's perfectly, and that left her with two options to believe. Either it was the truth, or something seriously wrong had happened to Joker.

She studied him carefully as he spoke. They had not had time to become the best of friends in their race to catch Saren, but they had gotten on rather well. Joker was a decent sort, despite the mouth he had on him sometimes leading him into trouble. She had trusted the man implicitly with the life of her crew and herself every time he took the helm, now though she found herself doubting his every word.

This was a powerful organization. One she knew as both extreme and dark. They could do anything to anyone whenever they pleased, more or less. Hell, they had brought her back from the dead; Miranda had thrown the words 'control chip' in her face like it was a part of everyday life. Every cell in her body was positively screaming at her to turn and run, to get off of that station as soon as possible.

This wasn't Joker, it couldn't be. Was she even herself? If not a control chip, had other means of manipulation been installed in her brain? If she were really back to being her old self, would she have remained placated for so long? Wouldn't she have fought her way out by now? Death. Nobody could cure death. That was ridiculous. Impossible. They had to be lying, didn't they? Was she a clone? A VI?

Could VIs question if they were VIs?

Did they program her with the ability to question it so she wouldn't get suspicious? Did that even make sense? Probably not. Or did it?

An AI? An AI told she was Commander Shepard so that the galaxy would believe it too. Was that her existence? Was she a shadow of a real human being?

"Uh, Commander?" Joker looked concerned. She caught his gaze, and he offered a lopsided grin. "I thought I lost you for a second there."

She swallowed. "Sorry, I sort of," she hesitated, "spaced out for a second."

He laughed, but it only lead her to shudder. The pounding in her head had returned, and it only appeared to be growing in strength. She fought the urge to fall to the floor, to curl up in on herself. There was a pang of nausea shooting through her torso, the taste of iron on her tongue. Shepard wanted to scream. Needed to scream.

"If you're finished," Shepard spun around to find Miranda standing behind her, Jacob at her back, "we really must move along now."

"Shepard, don't try to move. Just lie still, try to stay calm."

Shepard let a heavy breath escape as the words ran through her mind, they seemed to soothe her just as much now as they had when they were originally said.

"Right," Joker responded instantly, clearly ecstatic and ignorant to the panic that had just threatened to cripple his old friend. "Wait until you see this."

Shepard only waited a few hours in her new ship before making her attempt. The Normandy was utterly silent as she made her descent, the low groan of the elevator making her nervous. Elevators were already the bane of her existence what with their seemingly incurable sluggish pace, and if the noise this one made lead to her downfall now she would never step into another as long as she lived.

Her concerns ended up to be a waste of time however as she made it into the cargo hold without incident. There was not a soul to be found in the spacious room, and she was free to make her way to the shuttle with no fear of apprehension. Once inside, Shepard moved to the front of the vehicle, familiarizing herself with the setup. Once she opened the bay doors everyone on the ship would be alerted to her intentions, she needed to be sure she knew exactly what she was doing and where she was going to make a successful escape.

Part of her was holding back, it felt cruel to be leaving Joker. The ship was well into its night cycle as they travelled towards Omega at Miranda's suggestion. There were hours until they reached the station, making it a good time for a bold move. Shepard had toyed around with a few different ideas before making her way to the shuttle. Joker seemed to have her back, she figured she could probably get him to take control and get her back to the Alliance.

That idea quickly fizzled out however as she remembered the AI she had been introduced to earlier. When it came down to it, Joker really didn't have control over what was supposed to be her ship at all. Not to mention the entirety of the crew was comprised of Cerberus members. They could quickly overpower any attempt at commandeering the Normandy with little effort. Even if she was somehow able to keep them at bay with only Joker at her back, it wasn't like she wanted to kill anybody. Jacob and Miranda hardly held her trust, but she wished them no ill will. No, that would never work, she had decided. The only viable option was to slip out herself.

Even if it meant abandoning Joker, she had to get away for both of their sakes. She could find help, come back, stage a rescue. Take out the terrorists, defeat the Collectors, save the galaxy. Simple, easy, piece of cake. It started with one simple action, starting the shuttle and taking off into the unknown. She just needed to figure out where she was going.

Shepard sat back in the pilot's chair, hesitating. Where was she going?

EDI's melodic voice suddenly filled the air around her. "I would have to advise you against this course of action, Commander."

Grimacing, Shepard looked up at the ceiling of the shuttle. "Hey come on, help me out here."

"If you proceed, I will be required to inform the crew." The AI sounded almost apologetic.

Shepard shook her head, brow furrowed. "Don't you dare, you're supposed to be following my orders." The warning was halfhearted, and EDI never responded. With a defeated sigh, Shepard sat back against the headrest, studying the panel before her with little interest. She had a feeling she wasn't going anywhere tonight, but it would never hurt to be prepared for when future opportunities arose.

It had to be less than ten minutes later when Shepard heard the footsteps echoing around the large room where what was to be her escape shuttle rested. She had been considering simply going for it, shooting off into the unknown, most likely crashing onto some uncharted world where she could waste away in peace. It had to be better than this, this half existence she had been given. A new life, one without essence or warmth. She felt lost, overwhelmed, frightened, angry.

Shepard grimaced suddenly. This plan made no sense. It was so obviously doomed to fail. It was a ridiculous attempt, idiotic to say the least. Stupid, just plain stupid. She was being stupid. Had she always been like this? Had she always been stupid?

Groaning as the pounding in her head returned once more, she ran her hands through her hair, brow furrowed. Why couldn't she place anything that mattered? What had happened to her life? Her essence?

Every thought, every dream, every action, every memory, it was all there. Vivid, constant, like a movie reel turning endlessly in her mind. She remembered every insignificant detail of her life, things that at one point she knew had been long forgotten. Cerberus had painstakingly stitched and woven each point through her mind. Her head was overflowing with facts.

Name. Age. Weight. Height. Rank. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Deaths. Births.

But where was the emotion? Where were her feelings? Why couldn't she remember those? There was uncertainty, fear, anxious energy. Those things swirled through her systems, constantly making themselves heard. But where was the love? Joy, excitement, compassion, it all felt so very far away, so out of reach.

Shepard sort of just felt like she wanted to die.

Miranda entered the shuttle without a word, taking the seat beside her charge with sure steps. When Shepard did not seem inclined to speak, she crossed her arms, looking straight ahead. "So where are we going?"

Shepard scoffed, clearly amused. "I should have known I couldn't trust that little traitor."

She noticed Miranda's expression soften from the corner of her eye. "Don't be too hard on her, Shepard. She was bound by protocol and programming to wake me."

With a grimace, Shepard turned her head to observe the woman. Miranda was far from her usual stoic presence. She was in her sleeping attire still, barefoot and clearly groggy, but she had shown up nonetheless. "I'm sorry," she said honestly.

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "An apology would only be warranted if you had actually made it off the ship."

With a grin, Shepard nodded in understanding. "That would probably get you in a fair bit of trouble, huh?"

"An insurmountable amount." It was the first time Shepard had ever seen the woman smile. A surge of pride flowed through Shepard at the thought that she was the cause.

Facing forward once more, feeling suddenly self conscious at her clearly idiotic effort that had failed before it had even began, Shepard stretched her arms out in front of her with a loud yawn. "Well I'd hate to be the cause of that." It was a teasing remark, though Shepard had put some honestly into the words. She felt her arms twinge at the action, and she winced before her hands fell into her lap.

Miranda, who had been watching her movements with a careful eye, leaned forward in interest. "Has the pain been consistent, or is it receding?"

Shepard shrugged, trying to appear as nonchalant about the situation as she could. "Just a bit tender, I suppose. Though I feel like that's fair considering the day we've had." She looked away, leaving the part out about her near chronic headaches. Miranda could analyze her body all she wanted, but Shepard's mind was her own concern.

"Indeed." Even as she said the word, Miranda seemed dubious. Though she did not push the topic further, Shepard quickly realized she would have to become far better at dancing around the truth to keep the likes of Miranda Lawson disillusioned for long.

With a heavy sigh, Shepard stood, Miranda mimicking her movements at once. "I guess I'll go to bed then." When Miranda offered a skeptical look, she could not help but laugh. "For real this time, I promise."

Miranda nodded, for some reason she took the woman at her word. As they filed out of the vehicle together, she found her mind wandering. Shepard had been a great woman once, a force to be reckoned with to some and a friend to the rest. She had brought her back, but had far from restored the commander. Whether she liked it or not, Shepard was her responsibility now, beyond even the duties the Illusive Man asked from her. Shepard's pain, her instability, they were all from Miranda's influence. The burdens Shepard now carried, she resolved that night to endure them right alongside her.

This thing, this rebellion against death, they were in it together.