A/N: So last night I wrote the final scene and now I just want to get to the last chapter. Ugh. The life of a shipper is a tough one indeed.
Miranda grimaced as she opened the message that had just arrived to her terminal. The Illusive Man had requested Shepard speak with him in the debriefing room over half an hour ago, and she had still neither responded nor shown up. Now, of course, it was her responsibility to babysit Shepard and make sure she stuck to her appointments. It was a far cry from being in charge of reviving the dead.
The mission to recruit the Salarian scientist had gone surprisingly well. Shepard had proven to be efficient and capable as the leader of a squad. Miranda was still having a few difficulties putting aside her impulses to take charge if she were to be honest, but that mission had been easier than the first. As long as Shepard continued obtaining results without breaking her trust, Miranda would grow more and more comfortable with the situation as a subordinate.
After bringing Mordin on board, it was decided a short break was warranted before going after Archangel. They returned to the ship to rest and recuperate, Shepard immediately heading to the top floor to wash all traces of Omega from her skin. Reluctantly, her XO took to the elevator, heading up to see what was holding the woman back. She found she actually wished it was Shepard being immature and refusing to acknowledge the Illusive Man's request, as that was far better than any of the other alternatives she could come up with.
As soon as she entered the captain's cabin, Miranda scanned the room quickly, though she knew she would find nothing. Quietly, she made her way over to the bathroom door. Something, maybe the stillness of the atmosphere, told her she should make as little noise as possible. Unwilling to simply burst in on her charge, Miranda lifted a hand and knocked softly on the door. When there was no answer she tried again, this time using a bit more force.
"Shepard?" she called out as kindly as she could manage. There was no response, but she could clearly hear the water running on the other side of the barrier. "EDI," she asked suddenly, "how long ago did she enter the bathroom?"
"Just about forty minutes ago, Operative Lawson," the AI chimed around her.
Way too long of a shower for someone who was well aware of the limited supplies they had on the ship. It was inconsiderate, something Miranda now knew Shepard was not. She tried not to imagine the woman passed out on the floor as she thanked EDI for the information. Making a quick decision, she overrode the lock and stepped inside.
Shepard was not passed out, no, but it was more than apparent that all was not well. Their fearless commander sat on the floor underneath the showerhead, pulled as far into the crook of the corner as she could be, legs drawn up to her chest, hugging herself tightly. The water beat down on her mercilessly, turned onto its full power even though the woman was fully clothed in her Cerberus uniform. It was impossible to tell if she had been crying due to her situation, but Miranda would not be surprised if she were. The look on her face was one of pure anguish. It was a haunted woman who sat on that floor, one tormented by the ghosts of her past and unable to cope with the strain.
Miranda hesitated for a few moments, reluctant to intrude on a personal level. Her sense of duty quickly kicked in however and she took a few steps forward. "Shepard," she said softly, and was not surprised when the woman did not look up. Her eyes were wide and unfocused as she stared straight forward at an unimaginable horror only she could witness, Miranda was clearly not even in the same world as Shepard in that moment.
With a heavy sigh, Miranda reached forward to turn off the water flow. She immediately withdrew her hand however as soon as the water hit her. Even through her gloves, the heat seared her skin. Panicked, she looked more closely at Shepard to see any exposed skin on the woman was near red from the high temperature, all but burning her flesh. It was not enough to do any real damage, but the idea was concerning nonetheless. Gritting her teeth, Miranda reached forward to successfully turn the shower off. Shepard obviously did not even register the change in her environment.
Now that the water flow had ceased, Miranda could make out some faint murmuring. Shepard's lips were moving slightly as she babbled out an unintelligible stream of nonsense, a code that only made sense to her own broken mind. Her mouth was moving so quickly, Miranda could barely make out the action at all. Finding herself genuinely concerned, she took the last few paces necessary to reach the woman's side, leaning against the wall and sliding down it until they were sitting next to one another. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as the damp floor quickly soaked through her uniform, but she managed to ignore her discomfort.
"Shepard?" she tried again, softly. She did not want to startle the woman too much, as she could end up endangering them both should Shepard feel threatened and lash out in her apparent delirium.
Again, she got no response. In fact, Shepard appeared more distressed now that the water was gone, her hands flying up to run through her wild red hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging in a way that Miranda was sure must be painful.
"Jane," she tried, reaching out a gentle hand to rest on the woman's forearm. The skin there was hot, still heated from the water and sporting an angry pink rash as a result. At the contact, Shepard's head turned almost violently to face the intruder, though she did not strike out. Instead, she let out a wild gasp as if she had just erupted from a long trip under the ocean. She began panting heavily, eyes wide, chest rising and falling uncontrollably as she tried to get her bearings.
"I can't-" she gasped out, pausing to swallow before resuming her frantic shallow breaths. Miranda's eyes narrowed as the woman hyperventilated, glancing around the room without taking anything in, clearly uncertain of where she was. "I can't breathe," she cried suddenly. Her hands shot up to the back of her neck, clawing at the skin there. Miranda pulled away, suddenly feeling nervous, before coming to her senses and reaching out to stop the violent process before Shepard ended up hurting herself. "I can't breathe," Shepard cried out again as Miranda took both of her hands in her own and brought them down to Shepard's sides.
"Yes you can," Miranda soothed quietly. Shepard's wild eyes flickered to meet her own at last, though the woman clearly didn't believe the reassurance. "You can," Miranda said again, still keeping Shepard's arms pinned down. "Just go slow. Long, deep breaths." She took an exaggerated one of her own as Shepard watched her, hoping her commander would be inclined to mimic the action. Shepard was, and they continued on together until their paces matched and their bodies moved in perfect rhythm.
"Shepard, don't try to move. Just lie still, try to stay calm."
With each breath, Shepard's distress eased and she seemed to become more aware. It was easy to tell when the woman was fully back in the present, and Miranda released her grip, leaning back against the wall. "Better?"
Shepard relaxed against the cool tiles and nodded with a hard swallow. "Sorry," she whispered, and had the good grace to look embarrassed.
Miranda bit her bottom lip subconsciously as her mind raced. The project could not even tentatively be called a success, Shepard was clearly unstable. It wasn't the woman's fault of course, it wasn't even Miranda's. There hadn't been enough time, Shepard hadn't been finished and Miranda hadn't properly prepared herself for the ramifications. They both were ill-equipped it seemed, and more than a little out of their elements. "You have nothing to apologize for," she offered truthfully at length.
There were a few moments of silence before Shepard side eyed her savior. "You must think I'm crazy," she whispered with a bitter laugh.
Miranda glanced at her, a pang of pity throbbing in her heart. "No, Shepard," she said, sounding almost sorrowful to the younger woman. "I think you're the first person who has ever conquered death and nobody was truly prepared to face what that really means. We're flying blind here."
A reluctant smile graced Shepard's face, surprising Miranda. "You really are some kind of super genius, huh?" She laughed, though there was little humor to be found in the sound. "Every time somebody says it I just-" she shook her head, clearly bewildered. "You cured death. It sounds like something from a science fiction story."
Miranda felt her lips quirk up for a second, amused by Shepard's admission. "I had more than a little help," she reminded, none too keen to take credit from the dead. Dozens of scientists had made Shepard's return a reality.
"It was you, though," Shepard maintained. "You remade me," there was awe in her voice, and then she let out a rather unladylike snort. "Your own personal Frankenstein."
At that, Miranda really did smile. "Creature," she amended with a smug smirk. Shepard gave her a hard look. "I would be Frankenstein," she offered, suddenly feeling self conscious as Shepard's face broke into a wide grin.
"You would be one of those people," Shepard responded with a laugh.
Miranda's eyes narrowed, though there was mirth evident in her gaze. "Come on," she said as she stood, smoothing out her uniform unconsciously by running her palm across her stomach. "If you have strength enough to make fun of me you have strength enough for a quick meeting."
A flash of irritation crossed Shepard's gaze before she relented and stood. Miranda was far from disillusioned about Shepard's relationship with the Illusive Man. The two were off to more than a rocky start, and she knew it would not be long before her employer looked to her to mend the connection. Luckily, Shepard seemed to show her no ill will despite her affiliation with the enigmatic man and his enterprise.
"Thank you," Shepard offered suddenly, sincerity rippling over in each word. "For everything," she hesitated for a moment, "even if I am a little crazy."
Miranda nodded, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Jacob had been assigned to the ship to be a personal connection for Shepard, to offer friendly advice and the sort of camaraderie that only a fellow soldier could provide. She wasn't good at the emotional and supportive aspects of dealing with people. Shepard was her project. If the woman needed an examination or an evaluation Miranda was more than happy to lend her aid, otherwise, she was keen to hide out in her cabin and take orders when necessary.
"Of course," she managed lamely, not quite sure what else the situation warranted. Shepard seemed amused by the reply for some reason, but said nothing else on the subject. "I hope you understand that we cannot afford to ignore this. When he dismisses you, I think it's important you face these issues and figure out what exactly has been triggering them. Of course, I'm sure Kelly has made you aware of her credentials. I'd like you to speak with her as soon as you are able." Miranda seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Or, if need be, my door will be open as well."
Shepard considered her words for a moment, and then nodded. "Let me get cleaned up," she said suddenly, "then I'll go talk to your boss."
Miranda nodded in return and backed out of the room, heading for the door. She waited until she was in the elevator, doors closed and slowly moving down a floor until she called out to the AI once more.
"Yes, Operative Lawson?" EDI responded promptly.
"If anything happens like that again, please notify me immediately. Any panic attacks, unusual sleeping patterns, increased heart rate, make sure I hear about it. It doesn't matter what time it is or where I am."
"Of course."
"Thank you, EDI." Miranda let out a heavy sigh. Although she wouldn't know more until she was able to question Shepard further, it appeared as though the whole mishap had taken place in the bathroom. Luckily, they had afforded Shepard enough dignity to not place any surveillance devices there. As long as that was the case, her little lie of omission was safe from the Illusive Man's prying gaze. She wasn't quite sure how he would react to the knowledge of Shepard's mental state, but as long as she was able to keep the woman in check, she would never find out.
As soon as she had returned to her cabin, Miranda sat at her terminal and got to work. It was a risky process, but she had enough technical knowhow to pull it off without detection. She created a program that would affect the various bugs hooked up around the ship, a random sequence that would constantly be changing, rendering one or two useless for a few minutes at a time. By keeping them infrequent and random, it would merely be seen as a small deficiency in the set up by those observing them, a minor inconvenience. It would enable her to talk to Shepard in the future and cut the audio feed off without raising too much suspicion. Miranda could only hope that she could get Shepard sorted before things got too out of hand.
A/N: The next chapter is already almost done, just gotta figure out how to end it. Finally I goet to do a wee bit of fluff at last. A very wee bit, but it tis enjoyable all the same.