A/N: Who else who totally forgot about this story raise your hand!
Soooooo, I wrote this a loooooong time ago. It's been in the ff's doc manager forever. I'm not sure why I didn't post it at the time because it's all formatted and stuff. I dunno, I guess I just forgot about it. Anywho, I was uploading pieces of a oneshot and this doc caught my eye and I was like WHOOPS.
Anywho, I am so out of touch with this story. I'm just going to go ahead and read this chapter right along with you guys and see if I can get back into it. I'm sorry I'm a scatterbrained jerk. Hopefully I can start writing for these guys again.
Haha *cough* sorry.
Um, onwards?
Miranda charges after her prey, leaving all traces of pity and the threat of potential remorse in her wake. This isn't the time for compassion, this is time for action. This is the moment she puts a stop to all of her suffering. This is when she erases all of her mistakes.
She is racing through the empty hall and then her reality shifts, changes. Miranda is caught, someone she might have called sister on her back, a muscled arm squeezing around her neck. She claws at the constriction, digging her nails in violently without mercy. Vision fading as the air leaves her lungs, she panics, leaving all finesse behind and slamming savagely backwards into the wall.
The grip loosens. She slams back again. It leaves completely and Miranda's clone slides down the wall, slumping onto the floor. The whole scene is lost in a fuzzy haze, the edges of the picture unclear, but Miranda can see herself, retrieving her pistol from the floor and gazing down at the creation.
It returns her stare, emotionless. It doesn't look scared or angry. It looks accepting, because after all, it had failed. It doesn't plead. It doesn't beg for its life. It merely sits and waits for Miranda to pull the trigger. She doesn't want to. She really doesn't. But the moment she turns around, it would be on her again, clawing, biting, killing. She can't show mercy.
She stands too close. Her clothes are blanketed in its blood when it dies.
The scene shifts once more, shimmering like a mirage as Miranda runs through the halls. She is so close, but it feels as though she will never catch up. She will never reach her goal.
And then she does.
The world spins. For a moment, she might be upside down. It doesn't matter because he is finally there, bleeding, a single girl left as his shield.
"Move," she orders.
"Stay," he demands.
The girl stands, conflicted. Miranda can shoot through her. Miranda would shoot through her. But that isn't a very Shepard thing to do, now is it?
"Move," she orders.
And this time, the girl does.
He says things. He tries to reason with her, he tries to bribe her, he tries to apologize, he tries to cause pain. Miranda doesn't listen.
Somehow, him slouching there, begging for his life, it doesn't feel as good as she had always imagined it would.
She turns away in the moment he dies.
The ground can't support her. In fact, it is gone completely. Everything is gone. Everything but her and the girl.
She raises her gun.
"I killed them. It's my fault. They're dead and I did it."
She lowers her gun.
She says things, quiet things. Things that she's not even sure she believes. What are they? She can't remember.
She just remembers one thing.
"Don't tell Shepard."
That's what she says, and the girl understands. And then they are surrounded. Nameless faces in the darkness all around them. They sneer and cackle. They approach.
Again the gun is raised.
"You've seen how good I am. You know how good she is. You'll take us out, sure, but how many will go down with us? Who will we aim at? Henry Lawson is dead. He won't be signing your paychecks any longer."
The faces begin to fade.
"Is his memory really worth dying for?"
The faces vanish.
She's alone. Completely alone.
There's blood on her clothing. It's soaking through, contaminating her skin. She claws at it, but it won't come off. She wants to scream. She wants to die.
She wants to wake up.
Miranda jolted awake, gasping for air, clawing at any grasp of reality to anchor herself once more in the present. Her eyelids snapped open, and she found Shepard staring over at her from the other side of the bed, sorrow etched into every line of her face. There was no pity to be found in the expression, but an emotion near enough that it made Miranda's stomach tighten and her face grow hot.
She understood then why Shepard would always glance away in embarrassment when the roles were reversed. Why she would burrow her face into Miranda's neck, breathing deeply and heavily, never uttering a word after a few earnest apologies. She understood then, because she was moving along the mattress into Shepard, holding her tightly as she did just that.
It was a half hour or so later when they heard the knock. The sun was fully out, fighting to be seen through the closed blinds, and neither Shepard nor Miranda had been able to sleep. They merely lay together, silent, eyes closed, each lost in their own thoughts.
Together they shot up, instincts kicking in, both on the defensive. Nobody should be bothering them. Nobody should know they were there. It was Miranda who figured it out first.
"It's coming from the door to the other room," she realized aloud.
Shepard sighed in relief, sliding off the mattress and motioning for Miranda to remain seated. She strode over to the door, pulling it open gently, careful of waking Lilly who was still sleeping soundly.
"Is everything okay?" she questioned as she took in the young girl.
Gwen's eyes were firmly glued to the floor and her skin appeared flushed. With a grimace Shepard realized that she had likely been having just as hard of a time sleeping as they were.
"Sorry," the girl mumbled. She shifted on her bare feet along the carpet, refusing to look up. "I just," she faltered and then cleared her throat. "Can we leave this door open?"
Shepard blinked, taken aback. She glanced over her shoulder at Miranda who appeared just as confused and they shared a miniscule shrug.
"Uh," Shepard stammered, more than a little uncomfortable, "yeah, sure. Okay." She raised a hand to rub at her neck. "Do you need anything?"
The girl quickly shook her head and scampered back into her bed without another word. Shepard stood under the frame for a minute, a little lost, before returning to Miranda's side.
"If she murders us in our sleep I'm going to be so mad," Shepard grumbled under her breath.
Miranda quickly shushed her and they settled back down together praying that sleep would find them, if only for a few hours.
Shepard hadn't been aware that it had happened, but apparently she had managed to pass out, as she eventually found herself waking under the scratchy comforter the hotel had provided. She hummed out as she stretched along the mattress, eyes slowly flickering open.
Shepard let out a choked gasp, scrambling along the bed as quickly as she could, trying to ignore the sharp stab of pain the action sent to her side.
Gwen's curious expression had been her first sight, and it was way too close for her liking. Or anyone's for that matter. Did the kid not understand personal boundaries or what?
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Shepard found herself spitting out with unnecessary cruelty, heart still pounding and side aching.
Gwen flinched away from where she had been kneeling beside the mattress, clearly frightened by her outburst. She looked sorrowful, ashamed, and Shepard immediately softened despite her anger.
"You can't just sneak up on people like that," she reasoned, attempting to regain her composure. Shepard let out a heavy sigh as she sat up in the bed, reminding herself to pity and not feel any malice towards the girl standing beside it. "I think Miranda would-"
She paused and whipped her head around. "Miranda? Where is she?" There was no trace of the woman to be found.
Oh god, she had been right. Gwen was a homicidal psycho who was gunning for them. Miranda was probably in thirty pieces in the bathtub. This was it. This was how she died.
After Geth and Collectors and Reapers her end was going to come in the form of an entitled teenager.
That totally sucked.
"Oh good, you're finally up."
Shepard blinked, eyes glued to where Miranda was standing in the doorway. "You're alive," she exclaimed.
Miranda's brow furrowed in confusion. "I am, yes," she allowed, though her tone betrayed how idiotic she found the statement.
It was then that Shepard realized Miranda had her arms around Lilly who was properly dressed in clothes Shepard didn't remember having been purchased. In fact, Miranda herself was dressed differently as well, wearing simple casual clothes with the clear intent of blending into the average Earth crowd.
"Did you go shopping?" Shepard glanced out the window. How long had she slept?
"Briefly," Miranda responded curtly with a sniff. She shifted the child in her grip. "There are clothes for you as well."
Shepard hardly registered the words, focused as she was on the first admission. Like an absolute moron, she was grinning from ear to ear. "Did you go shopping with the baby?" she cooed teasingly, positively delighted.
The comment earned her a death glare.
Shepard's laughter was interrupted by a low grumble. Both women turned their heads towards the source. Gwen stood with a resolute look on her face.
"Excuse me," she began matter-of-factly, "I believe I'm hungry." There was no emotion in her voice, no inflection. They were silent for a time, neither sure of how to deal with this strange new burden that had befallen them.
Clearing her throat, Shepard attempted to quickly brush past the total awkwardness of the claim. She caught Miranda's eye and offered a shrug. "I could eat."
Miranda shifted Lilly about once more, clearly growing weary of toting the baby around for so long. "Go change," she reminded Shepard irritably.
Shepard beamed at her tone. "Yes ma'am." It was when she was trying to shuffle off the mattress that her pained expression reminded Miranda of her injury. The woman hardly hesitated before she handed the baby off to Gwen and ushered Shepard into the bathroom.
She was less than graceful about the affair, Shepard, grumbling as she pulled the hem of her shirt up when ordered as soon as they were alone. The last thing she wanted was to be babied, especially by Miranda. The wound on her side was shallow, it would heal on its own given time.
"You sure know how to make a fuss over nothing," Shepard muttered through her teeth.
"Let me finish," Miranda returned softly as she worked. It was a small thing in the grand scheme of the injuries Shepard had collected but Miranda still felt responsible for the jagged line that ran along the other woman's flesh. In fact, there was quite a lot she felt responsible for of late. This was merely the one problem she had caused that was even remotely fixable.
"How are you doing?"
Miranda glanced up at the question. She hadn't caught on to just how intently Shepard had been studying her.
"I'm fine," she soothed quickly. Maybe too quickly. Hadn't she been good at lying once upon a time?
Shepard snorted. "I'm supposed to believe that?"
Miranda shrugged a shoulder as soon as she finished applying the fresh bandage, pulling away. "Yes," she tried, hoping to drop the subject.
"Miranda, I-" Shepard began as she dropped her shirt and let it fall into place.
"Who's fussing now?" The woman snapped, though not unkindly. She breathed deeply. "I'm fine. We need to keep moving forward."
Shepard laughed bitterly. How many things could they reasonably expect themselves to move on from? She had spent her life moving on from things. When could they ever just be free to be?
"Like always?"
"Like always."
With a groan, Shepard twisted her torso a bit, swinging her arms from side to side and testing the durability of the makeshift medical treatment. As with most jobs Miranda preformed, it held up perfectly.
"I never want to push you, but, please, when you think you can, please talk to me."
In the end, Miranda didn't commit to an answer. That was no promise she wanted to make. Instead, she busied herself with collecting the few materials she had used. Maybe it would be healing to talk, sure, but she never wanted to be Shepard's burden, her project to fix. She never wanted to be pitied, no matter what happened to her.
They were equal. Therapy wasn't necessary.
"Just get dressed."
Shepard did as told, she usually did when it came to orders from Miranda, but she wasn't happy about it. She was in an incredibly frustrating state of wanting to respect the other woman's wishes, but also to be there for her. At a time the two desires had been one in the same, but now it was becoming increasingly clear that providing one meant neglecting the other.
Miranda was demanding privacy concerning her feelings on the current state of affairs, but she wasn't a machine. Her emotional state was fragile and if she didn't accept some sort of aid in sorting through her feelings she would find herself weakening fast. Like it or not she had to understand that sometimes leaning on others could be just the cure she needed. Shepard was just praying that Miranda would come to that realization on her own and she wouldn't have to start pushing buttons. Getting Miranda to open up emotionally was quite like poking a sleeping bear in Shepard's humble opinion.
Deciding to wait it out for a time, Shepard accepted the offering that was presented to her. Her clothes were not unlike Miranda's, simple, inexpensive, and sure to keep her hidden in most any crowd. There was even a cap to hide her most notable feature from view, her untamable red hair. Miranda had seemed oddly proud to give her the hat for some reason Shepard couldn't begin to fathom. All in all, the ensemble was pretty solid and she would feel at ease roaming the streets freely.
Shepard didn't comment on how everything fit perfectly to the centimeter. She admired Miranda's memory and attention to detail as much as the next person, but sometimes her calculating mannerisms could come off a tad eerie.
"I feel really uncomfortable not feeding her."
Miranda rolled her eyes as Shepard fused over the child in the highchair beside the table. She had explained to the woman a thousand times that it wasn't an issue. They were at a quiet diner, one out of the way from major traffic and sure to help them keep themselves anonymous.
"She's fine," Miranda repeated, her patience quickly drying up.
Shepard dropped the topic, as she could quite clearly sense Miranda's irritation, but she was sure to heave a heavy sigh first. Though she didn't agree with Miranda's rather cavalier attitude in concern to ensuring Lilly was fed, Shepard was reluctant to irritate the woman any further. It wasn't fair to Miranda to be picking fights now. Not to mention that Shepard was positive Miranda understood the science of it far better than she did. The woman had already spent way too much time trying to explain to Shepard about the substance Lilly had been incubated in and the nutrients that had been supplied to her through it.
Shepard hadn't understood a word. All she knew was that normal babies ate food or milk or whatever and this one wasn't which was freaking her out.
"She'll eat," Miranda kept assuring her impatiently. "She's not ready. I will be when she needs it. And when she does need it, trust me, it will be a lot."
Scientific Mumbo Jumbo.
"May I go to the bathroom?"
Miranda and Shepard shared a look. They seemed to find themselves doing that most anytime the girl spoke up.
"Of course," Shepard allowed awkwardly, turning on the child beside her. "Gwen, you can do whatever you want. I mean, not whatever you want, you should ask us about some stuff sometimes, like, uh, maybe tell us when you leave somewhere so we know where you are and stuff, but, uh, please, go to the bathroom whenever you need to, okay?"
Gwen stared over at her blankly for a moment, perhaps trying to sort through Shepard's clipped and rambling response, before nodding politely and standing to make for the bathroom of the restaurant with confident strides.
As soon as the door to the woman's restroom swung closed Shepard leaned over the table towards Miranda. "She is so weird. Sometimes she's acting like a normal kid and then suddenly I feel like I'm her teacher." Shepard ran a hand over her face tiredly. "I don't know how to act around her."
"You're doing a better job than me."
For a moment Shepard wrinkled her nose at the comment, trying to remember an instance when Miranda had shown any bit of unkindness towards the girl since leaving the estate. She found herself struggling to recall any such interaction.
That was when it clicked. She found herself struggling to recall any interaction whatsoever.
Without Shepard realizing, Miranda had gone almost the entire time without interacting with the girl directly.
She wondered how much it hurt Miranda to look at Gwen, to hear her speak, to accept her existence. She wondered if that was even the issue at all.
Lilly wiggled in her chair, clearly searching for some sort of attention. Now that they had spent more time together, Shepard was getting used to her mannerisms. She had nothing to compare the girl to of course, but she felt as though Lilly was particularly quiet for one her age. There was always this sort of thoughtful expression on her face, and her eyes were in constant motion, darting wildly about whatever room they carried her into in a frantic effort to absorb every sight possible.
Perhaps this was common of all babies though, Shepard couldn't be sure. Still, she prayed it was normal, mind still on the potential side effects of pulling the creation out of her tank too early. If her actions had done anything to negatively impact Lilly's life, Shepard was going to have a hard time forgiving herself.
With a heavy sigh, Shepard shook her head. Whatever happened with Lilly they would see in time, for the moment she had to stay on topic so they could figure out what was best for Gwen.
"What are we going to do about her?"Shepard breathed out softly, more asking herself than Miranda. She considered the walk over from the hotel. The mistrust in the girl's eyes that she directed towards every stranger passed, the blatant glares she had sent the few aliens that were scattered about. "I mean, nobody is going to want that kid." She hated herself for saying it. "At least not for a long time."
"Jane…" Miranda groaned out, running a hand through her hair.
"I know. I'm sorry," Shepard quickly cut it. "I'm sorry. I'm trying. I just…"
Lilly, who seemed to be feeling very left out, squirmed more furiously about her chair and leaned over the gap towards the table, pounding both chubby fists upon it with a displeased grunt. Shepard couldn't help but chuckle as she was sent an indignant glare.
"Yes, I see you," she replied softly, reaching out a finger to bump the child's stomach, "you're very cute."
Lilly let out a squeak and delightedly grasped the digit with both hands.
"We should talk to her."
Shepard glanced up at Miranda. "I know." She grimaced. "This is probably the first time anyone will have asked her opinion."
"Maybe," Miranda allowed. Her brow furrowed as her eyes fell towards the baby beside them. Lilly had pulled Shepard's captive finger into her mouth and was working on it with intense concentration judging by the expression she wore.
"Is she biting you?"
"Uh," Shepard began uncertainly as she evaluated the odd sensation, "more, um, sort of, gumming me, I think."
To her complete surprise, Miranda reached out and ran her fingers through the small bit of fuzzy light hair Lilly possessed. She clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she did so and to Shepard's amazement her finger was immediately released. Lilly let go and met Miranda's gaze quite seriously. They sat like that for a moment, as though appraising one another, before the child broke into a goofy smile and clapped her hands together cheerfully.
The spell broken, Miranda retracted her hand and turned back towards the other woman. "We'll have to get her something for that. I wasn't thinking when I went out this morning."
The waitress appeared before Shepard could reply, making polite conversation as she distributed the plates of steaming food about the table. She waved cheerfully at Lilly before departing, a kind gesture the child seemed to immensely appreciate. Gwen returned shortly after, sliding past Lilly back into the booth beside Shepard once more.
Miranda flashed her a look that to most would appear urging, but Shepard knew better. It was a pleading look, Miranda didn't want to be the one leading the discussion. Still, she waited before broaching the topic of Gwen's future, letting everyone make some headway on their meals. She did have to reach over Gwen's plate a few times however, as Lilly seemed determined to put anything her tiny fingers were capable of grasping from the table into her mouth.
"Gwen," Shepard began at last as she managed to successfully retrieve the napkin Lilly had in a death grip and place it beside her plate, "we've been discussing some things about the future." She paused to gesture to Miranda. "But we know you're very intelligent, and you're old enough to have your own opinion. Do you know what you want? Do you have any interests you want to pursue?"
Shepard had hardly finished speaking before Gwen was answering. "What do you want me to do?" Her voice was serene and untroubled. It was an eerily automated sound.
Miranda and Shepard shared a look. It was a discouraging response, though unfortunately not unexpected. Who were they kidding? They wouldn't know how to comfort and support the average child.
"We just want you to be comfortable," Shepard pressed gently, voice low and soothing. "We want you to be happy."
Gwen seemed to study her plate for a minute, fingering the toast on it absently. Neither Miranda nor Shepard pushed her for a reply, both content to let her sort through her thoughts on the matter. At length she looked up, eyes unfocused.
"I don't know what makes me happy." She didn't say the words sadly, though her tone did feel hollow.
Miranda was clearly less worried by the claim than Shepard was. She understood, she had been in that position before. Starting from scratch was never easy, especially when it was a more emotional than physical journey. At first it had been all about Oriana. It had been about ensuring her protection. That was the entire reason for her existence.
Slowly though, incredibly slowly, Miranda learned to allow pleasure into her life. Simple things at first, small things, but things that added a hint of happiness until she was ready to accept that it was okay to have a life beyond what her father had envisioned. A good book. Hot tea. The feel of real paper between her fingers. A wordless song.
Shepard.
"I want to figure it out," Gwen elaborated She seemed unable to look at either of them. "My purpose, my reason. What it means to...be." For the shortest moment her eyes flickered towards Miranda. "The same things you learned."
It was one of those awkward moments where it no longer felt as though they were dealing with a child. Shepard cleared her throat and scratched at her neck.
"Well, we'll make sure you get the chance to do that."
After all, it was all they feasibly could do at the moment.
When they finally were able to return to their rooms, Miranda and Shepard heartily agreed showers were in order for everyone involved. First though, Lilly was due for a bath.
After they had left the restaurant, they had taken care of the child as Miranda had suggested, as well as purchased a handful of other necessities. Now, she rested on the woman's lap, gleefully going to town on a teething ring. As Shepard had noted the night before, two little peeks of white had been poking through into her mouth, and Lilly had apparently been quite frustrated with the tenderness of her swollen gums. They actually felt a bit guilty, assuming that Lilly would have likely been kept growing and unconscious in her tank until she was past this stage of discomfort. Now she had to suffer through it.
Shepard knelt by the shower, hand twisting the knob to a decent temperature as she filled the tub. Miranda sat with Lilly on the closed toilet lid, patiently waiting.
"Not too deep," she reminded Shepard. It earned her an eye roll.
In the doorway stood Gwen. They had told her she was free to go into her room and shower there but she claimed she wanted to wait. She watched them carefully, out of the way and silent, as though studying them. Shepard noticed she seemed to always be observing their movements, keeping careful watch when Shepard had paid their bill earlier and when Miranda had been rung out at the store they had visited. Her eyes always held a look of deep concentration.
They would be lying if they said it didn't make them uncomfortable, but neither woman had the heart to tell the girl to back off and lighten up.
It took some time, and both Miranda and Shepard were rather damp by the end of it, but eventually Lilly was squeaky clean and quite joyful about it. Miranda showered first while Shepard sorted out Gwen, ushering her into the other room and making sure she had everything she needed to take a shower of her own. When Shepard had taken care of herself as well, she sat with Miranda and Lilly together on the bed, feeling the best she had since this whole debacle on Earth had started.
Gwen had yet to return to their room but they decided to leave her be. She deserved a bit of privacy. Plus, her absence gave them the opportunity to speak more openly with one another. As usual of late, their conversation centered around the same topic.
Both women sat cross-legged atop the mattress, the star of their discussion crawling about between them. Lilly had been unsteady at first, but she quickly got the hang of movement, and was much faster than Shepard would have anticipated. Her arms and legs pumped together with alarming speed and the child had to be rescued quite frequently when she strayed too near the edge, most often by Miranda who seemed to have a sixth sense for potential trouble.
Once again, Lilly moved near the edge and Miranda scooped her up, setting the girl between her legs and hugging her tightly to her chest. Well, to Lilly it was a hug. To Miranda it was a few seconds of relief from the child stumbling about all over the place.
Earlier they had sent a quick message to Liara informing her of their situation merely to keep their friend updated. In turn, the asari had informed them that both the car they had deserted and the estate itself had been taken care of. Now they needed to agree on what was to become of Lilly so Liara could set to work on making it happen. Shepard still had her reservations on the matter, and so they had spent the past fifteen minutes talking in circles, much to Miranda's frustration.
She sighed heavily as Lilly reached up to fondle her still-damp hair. Shepard was spouting some nonsense about childcare that Miranda really no longer felt like listening too. She understood Shepard's concerns. Hell, she shared them. But they had to commit to a decision. They couldn't hang around an Earth hotel in limbo indefinitely. It wasn't fair to Liara, just as it certainly wasn't fair to Lilly herself. She deserved a real family.
"That's great, Shepard," Miranda cut into the rambling quickly, "but we have to figure out what to do with her." She bounced the girl in her arms gently to accentuate her point. Lilly giggled and gazed up at her in delight. "This needs to be sorted as quickly as possible. She needs stability."
Shepard seemed hesitant for a moment, and then she gave Miranda the look. The one that usually meant Miranda was in for trouble.
"What?" Miranda snapped quietly, mindful of not startling the baby in her arms. Instinctively, she held Lilly protectively to her chest, not liking the way Shepard was smirking at either of them.
"It's not already sorted?" The question was said with the faux innocence Shepard reserved for whenever she was feeling particularly childish and in the mood for driving Miranda mad.
Her brow furrowed as Miranda found herself confused by the question, and then clarity hit her like a brick to the face, or more suitably, a Shadow Broker's desk to the head.
"Oh no," she practically spluttered. "No. No. No."
"Yes. Yes. Yes," Shepard amended with a grin.
"Are you out of your mind?" Miranda shot back, again mindful of her volume.
"Probably," Shepard admitted. "Not about this though. Come on, why not?"
Miranda's mouth fell open. Why not? There were a million and one reasons why not, and that was just covering the basics.
"I said she needs stability, not emotionally unstable convicts on the run from the biggest military force humanity has to offer."
Shepard laughed at that. "You make us sound like the bad guys."
"You know what I mean," Miranda hissed. "It's completely ridiculous. Now, help me figure out a real solution."
"I did," Shepard maintained. She sobered then, wanting Miranda to understand it wasn't a joke. "Miranda, the galaxy is about to be faced with one of the greatest battles it's ever known. Nowhere will be safe, no stone will be left unturned. She'll have the best chance if she stays with someone who knows how to defend themselves. This war is happening whether we accept it or not, there's no hiding from it."
"Yeah," Miranda replied, clearly beyond exasperated. "A war we'll be right in the heart of."
"I'll be right in the heart of," Shepard corrected her, losing all traces of her previous teasing tone.
She watched as Miranda's face darkened, not even revealing a fraction of the anger she was sure the woman was feeling. "Don't you dare," Miranda warned, her voice dripping with venom. "You're not doing that to me."
Shepard had the good grace to look apologetic, but she wasn't about to shy away from the topic, no matter how intimidating an irate Miranda could become.
"I'm not trying to bench you," she explained quickly. "I just think we should be cautious. It's not like we can figure anything out until we're caught up in the situation anyways. I only meant it's stupid for the both of us to charge blindly into the fray. You're the brains of the operation, it's likely you'll have to pull back with people like Liara and-"
"I'm not sitting back and playing housewife with someone else's baby while everyone else is fighting." Her eyes narrowed as she spoke. "I'm just as capable as you are."
"More so," Shepard replied honestly, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I'm not an idiot…well, not a complete idiot. We'll all be fighting, I know that. But already Liara said she needs you. If you guys figure this out…" Shepard trailed off. She had been considering this all day, and it felt right in her heart, it really did. Now that she was actually saying the words to Miranda out loud though, she couldn't help but feel ridiculous.
Backtracking, she tried a different angle, trying desperately to convey what she already so strongly felt.
"I don't mean a forever thing," she explained quickly, "I just mean for awhile."
Miranda scoffed loudly, interrupting her. Lilly looked curiously between them, somehow sensing the tense atmosphere that had descended.
"That's not fair to her. I understand what you mean, leaving her before the reapers come is a risk but keeping her is one as well. And look at her, Jane, she knows us." Shepard glanced down at Lilly who gazed back solemnly. "You want her to stay, grow attached, and then if we somehow win just get rid of her after what could be years? It's not fair. That's what you want?"
There was the other reason of course, the one Miranda wasn't saying. Already she was growing possessive, hardly ever putting the child down, and certainly never letting her more than a few feet away. There was no stopping it, she knew she couldn't fight the feelings stirring within her. Following Shepard's plan meant letting time pass, and time had never been her friend.
Time meant attachment for everyone involved.
Shepard groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Of course not. But listen, what would you do if we dropped her somewhere and it was attacked or destroyed? How can we just blindly pick some defenseless family somewhere in the galaxy? How can we make that choice?"
"I don't know," Miranda admitted. "But I think we have to."
"Do we?" Shepard pressed. 'I'm going to sound like an ass here, but honestly I would rather keep her safe than be fair to her."
Miranda didn't respond.
"Look at what sovereign did," Shepard pressed softly. "Look how many it took to stop him."
Miranda chanced a peek down at Lilly who had craned her neck up to stare at her expectantly, as though she too were awaiting to here the answer to her own fate. The woman considered the child for a time before returning her gaze to meet Shepard's.
"I want to call Liara," she said quite simply.
Shepard blinked at the abrupt change of topic, but nodded, understanding she had already pushed her share of limits for the day.
"Okay."
Miranda wanted privacy, and it had been hours since their last meal, so Shepard planned her next course of action rather easily. As Miranda busied herself with Lilly, Shepard moved towards the door that connected their room to Gwen's. She tapped her knuckles lightly upon it.
"Come in." The girl's words were muffled through the barrier.
Shepard entered, speaking as she passed under the frame. "I just wanted to ask-" she faltered, blinking rapidly.
Gwen was sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, feet firmly planted on the cheap carpet of the floor. Though she had dressed in the clothes Shepard had left out for her on the mattress, she looked as though she had been there for quite some time, staring blankly at the wall.
"Have you just been sitting there this whole time?" Shepard blurted out.
Gwen tilted her head quizzically. "You never came back and got me."
Shepard fought back and exasperated groan. "You didn't have to," she started before thinking better of it. She didn't want to make the girl feel bad on top of it. "Never mind," she corrected herself quickly. "Do you like pizza?"
"I've never had pizza."
Shepard hesitated for a moment and then sighed heavily. This wasn't okay. Gwen shouldn't sit alone in her room for an hour because she thought she could only be around when requested. Shepard had to establish more comfort between them, more trust. She had been going to call in ahead and pick up some takeout when it was ready, but maybe a walk and a wait was in order.
For just a second, Shepard let herself lament over how easy it had been. How smoothly her and Lana had gelled, how easily the child had captured her affections. It really was for just a second though, because all too soon her chest was tightening and she knew she had to bury those thoughts far into the recesses of her mind.
Gwen was here, Gwen had survived, and she deserved Shepard's full attention and respect.
"You know what?" Shepard let out as casually as she could manage. "Why don't you come with me?"
Gwen had the body of a sixteen year old, which was quite deceiving. Intellectually, she was far beyond that. Socially, she was far below. Emotionally, well, there really was no telling.
That's where Shepard found she was having the most trouble when dealing with the child. She couldn't treat her like the average teenager her age, but she also never wanted to come off as condescending. It was a fine line, and she was having difficulty straddling it as they walked along the sidewalk together.
She was nervous, sure, awkward even, but Shepard was determined to make an effort to connect to the girl.
"So have you thought about anything?" she tried carefully as she dodged a man speed walking past them in the other direction.
Gwen looked confused by the question. "I think about many things," she responded simply.
"I meant future stuff," Shepard elaborated with patience. "Remember this morning when I asked you about your interests?"
There was silence for a time as Gwen considered her words. Shepard thought she had said the wrong thing as they had travelled on together, perhaps offended the child in some way. Suddenly though, her question was rather quietly answered.
"I like to read."
Shepard smiled softly. "That's good," she replied gently. "Me too."
Again, Gwen was quiet for a time. She seemed to choose her words carefully before speaking. Shepard imagined it came from having been brought up without many chances to have her voice heard. When you only were given a little of something, you made the most of what you had.
"Does Miranda like to read?"
That had her chuckling. "Yes. She does," Shepard answered happily. "Very much so."
Gwen seemed quite pleased by the information. At least, to the extent her abnormally blank features could allow. Shepard was actually charmed. It seemed Miranda had yet another admirer.
Again, Shepard was struck with the image of Lana and she had to bitterly ward the child away from her thoughts. It soured the entire interaction.
"I can also do this," Gwen said suddenly, and without warning her body was outlined in a familiar blue hue.
Shepard was on it in an instant. "Woah," she exclaimed in alarm, waving her hands in front of her young companion. "Okay, not in the street. We don't just do that in the middle of a crowded street." The biotic power hadn't truly flared up and the girl hadn't been braced for battle but Shepard was rather alarmed by just how much energy she had felt.
Immediately, it disappeared, and Gwen's eyes fell to the floor. "Sorry," she offered quietly.
"It's okay," Shepard laughed out uncomfortably, "you've just got to be careful." She glanced around the streets to ensure they hadn't gained too much unwanted attention. "Wow, so, I haven't seen you really cut loose but that felt like it had a lot of power behind it. You're pretty good, huh?"
"Yes," Gwen replied matter-of-factly. "I was the best of those of us he was training, father said."
That was certainly something Shepard would run by Miranda when the time was right. She had figured most of the girls would have biotic power, but hadn't really considered it much since everything that had happened. They'd likely have to keep an eye on Lilly as well. Who knew what the 'perfect' specimen was capable of.
They had reached the small restaurant Shepard had been aiming for. A family owned Italian place with charmingly rustic design. It was sure to be quiet and safe from prying eyes. They entered the building and Shepard guided Gwen into a side room, one used for customers who intended to bring their food home.
The large man behind the counter greeted them from behind an unkempt mustache. Shepard quickly placed the order and was told they would have to wait a good fifteen minutes or so. She led Gwen to one of the benches that were supplied for waiting patrons. Only one other one on the far side of the room was filled. It was an elderly gentleman wearing out of date summer clothes, a fuzzy white beard that obscured most of his face, and sunglasses despite the late hour. Beside him was a teenage boy, tapping his feet impatiently.
Shepard smirked as she inconspicuously watched him. He had glanced over at them with a bored expression when they had at first sat, but had quickly preformed a double take. His attention was on Gwen, and he was doing a poor job of hiding it. She fought back a laugh at his sloppy attempts at disguising his interest.
"Uh oh," she whispered softly after a few moments of witnessing his struggle.
"What?" Gwen questioned, instinctively matching Shepard's volume.
"Cute kid, two o'clock, totally checking you out."
"What?" Gwen repeated, clearly mystified.
Shepard laughed softly. "Take a quick peek towards that bench by the counter. Next to that old guy who looks like Santa on spring break there's a kid your age."
Gwen craned her neck curiously and blatantly made eye contact with her admirer. Shepard fought the urge to groan loudly, smothering it down to a simple cringe. She quickly jabbed her elbow gently into the young girl's side.
"Don't stare," she admonished lightly when she regained Gwen's attention. "Have some tact. Aren't you girls supposed to be coy?" It was a teasing remark, a joke, but Shepard was quickly kicking herself when she saw the shamed expression on Gwen's face.
"Hey," Shepard said softly, "I was just fooling around."
Gwen likely hadn't been exposed to many people her age when under her father's care. Shepard felt bad that she wouldn't really be eased into the process. With the way she looked she was going to be a head-turner, especially around young boys.
Shepard tried to get the girl to relax. "Don't listen to me, I'm like the least tactful person around." She scrunched up her face in deep thought, searching her memory. "I used to run around with this pack of kids here on Earth and had a major crush on one of the boys when I was about your age."
Gwen tilted her head, interest thoroughly peeked.
"It wasn't the, uh, gentlest crowd," Shepard continued, wincing at the past, "so I couldn't exactly walk up and tell him. It got bad though. I was terrible, absolutely lovesick. I followed that kid around like a puppy. Eventually I knew I would just burst if I didn't say anything."
"You told him?" Gwen supplied quietly.
Shepard bit back a snort, surprising herself by how embarrassed she still felt by the memory. "I tried," she admitted at length, reaching up a hand to rub at her neck. "I, uh, chickened out though."
With a laugh Shepard dropped her hand back into her lap. "I actually started to say 'I love you' but freaked out a word and a half in and shouted 'I lo…st my'," Shepard faltered, her memory failing. She hummed thoughtfully. "I actually don't remember what I said. I lost my something." She shrugged. "Anyhow, then I said, 'and I know you took it' before socking him right in the gut and sprinting away." She punched the air with a grin. "It was two weeks before I could even look in his direction again." Shepard chuckled. "It never really worked out."
Shepard sure had been an idiot. An angry orphan with a hearty helping of social issues running with a disgusting gang of misfits. At least it had left her good at hitting people, which was how she had gotten a job with the military. Though honestly she wasn't much more emotionally stable now. Smothering everything down with stupid humor probably wasn't healthy.
Thank God for Miranda.
When she glanced over to see if her story had succeeded in cheering the girl up, Gwen was making an expression that Shepard couldn't figure out. It was a sort of pained look, one filled with confusion and apprehension. Shepard's heart broke when she finally deciphered it, though she fought to keep that from her face.
"It's okay to laugh," she soothed quietly. "It's funny, I'm a total dork."
For a moment Gwen recoiled from the words, unsure of what to do with them. And then she smiled. That was all she managed, no laughter bubbled out from within the girl, but it was still the most genuine expression Shepard had witnessed from her yet. In that instant she promised herself she would earn the real thing.
Shepard leaned in close to her companion, laying it on rather thick. "Now I'm going to tell you one of the galaxy's greatest kept secrets, Commander Shepard is actually a massive nerd." She gave Gwen a hard look. "Now don't tell anyone," she whispered before she allowed a look of panic to flash over her features for the child's benefit. "Especially not Miranda. She needs to think I'm cool."
And there it was. It was small, practically inaudible, but it had happened all the same. Shepard had actually produced a laugh.
"I won't," Gwen promised through a giggle.
"Good," Shepard replied.
They waited for their meal in comfortable silence for a time, but Shepard could feel Gwen shifting beside her all the while, clearly anxious.
"What's up?" she questioned softly.
"What happened to that boy?" Gwen replied quickly. She had clearly been waiting for an invitation.
Shepard smirked, glancing at the boy across the room. He still sat next to the elderly fellow, though his feet were tapping along the tile floor much more quickly now and his head was bowed low. "I think you freaked him out to be honest, kid."
Gwen blinked. "In your story. You punched him. Then what happened?"
The story had been meant to make the girl relax and open up. It hadn't been deep conversation. Shepard shifted uncomfortably. "I dunno. Once I got entangled with the Alliance I cut all ties with everyone from the old days. They were kind of horrible people. Kept me alive, sure, but I'm not really proud to have known them."
"I mean with the two of you," Gwen clarified. Her deep blue eyes were searching. "You said you loved him."
Shepard laughed a bit too loudly. The phony Santa glared at her from his bench. It probably wasn't the best idea to explain how she had been brainwashed into idolizing the leaders of her petty street gang to a girl who had also been brainwashed all of her life in the middle of an Italian restaurant.
"Sure, in my own head I did. Not really though. I was just a kid." Shepard thought again about how she was attempting to sound anything but condescending. Perhaps it would be best to backtrack. "I mean, sure, it happens, yeah, but in this instance, no, that wasn't real love. Just a crush."
Or an obsession, to be honest. She had done so much for those people, had given more than she cared to admit. But then she had been discovered and cared for and she slowly began to realize that she didn't belong to anybody but herself.
"Oh," Gwen replied, studying her hands intently. "And now?" she questioned shyly without looking up.
The words hadn't been said but Shepard knew what the child was getting at. She shook her head with grin. "I can't say that yet."
Gwen cleared her throat, clearly nervous of pushing any boundaries. Shepard couldn't blame her. Henry Lawson clearly had a short fuse.
"Why not?"
"Because it's Miranda." Shepard couldn't help but laugh at her companion's befuddled expression. "She'll tell me when I'm allowed to be in love."
Gwen's face twisted up in confusion and she said something quite out of character. "That's weird."
Shepard laughed loudly at that as she settled back more comfortably into the bench. "Don't I know it, kid," she replied after playfully returning another angry glare from the old man across the room. "Don't I know it."
It was after many things that Shepard was woken up.
After they had returned to the room, bearing a rather delicious smelling pizza, and after Miranda had crossed her arms and spoken to Shepard quite severely.
"Tomorrow morning we're meeting with a contact and then we're getting on a public shuttle." Shepard had opened her mouth to question the claim but Miranda didn't offer her the time. "This isn't a permanent thing," she explained quickly in a harsh tone. "This isn't even a long-term thing. This is a thing where we have to leave because we are pushing our luck and you are going to get one day to see sense before I start making decisions with Liara on my own. Got it?"
Shepard certainly had gotten it and had nodded quite vigorously. Gwen had seemed quite amused by the interaction, sensing that there was little true malice to be found there. Shepard actually appeared quite pleased to her.
And Shepard certainly had been, because if she dug deep enough into the words it sounded quite like she was getting her way.
"Good," Miranda had replied smartly. "Now eat."
They had eaten then, and though Miranda had wanted to attempt it in the morning, Shepard had begged and pleaded with her to try feeding Lilly as well. As Miranda had expected, Lilly took no interest in anything that was offered to her, pushing away everything from formula to mashed vegetables with a scowl.
Miranda seemed quite smug at the development, leaving Shepard to brood for the next couple of hours before everyone took to their beds. Lilly was out like a light as soon as she was put down, clutching the small plush Shepard had purchased for her earlier. Gwen had moved into her room soon after.
Shepard stood in the doorway for a moment, hesitant, and then she attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Uh," she tried softly, "I'm gonna close this, but, uh, if you need to open it during the night don't worry about it. You can just do it without asking, okay?"
Gwen had offered up a grateful smile. "Thank you."
"Sure," Shepard returned rather lamely before closing the door softly and moving to Miranda's side.
Yes, it was after many things that Shepard was woken up.
It was a soft noise, and later Shepard would be certain that if her body hadn't realized it was Miranda who was making it, she would have kept on sleeping. As it were, however, Shepard's eyes fluttered open and she slowly adjusted to what was happening around her.
Though Miranda seemed to be able to tell Shepard had awoken, she said nothing, and it was left up to Shepard to whisper through the dark.
"Are you crying?"
"No," Miranda replied in a watery voice that betrayed her.
Despite the ache in her chest, Shepard smiled softly. "Okay," she sighed out, "my mistake. What's up?"
It was a stupid question. Shepard knew what was up. Well, not exactly, but she could certainly guess the gist of it.
Miranda had been lying on her side facing away from Shepard, but she turned then, and the other woman moved closer in response.
"I was horrible," she announced at last, though she kept her voice low for Lilly's sake.
"What?" In all of their time together, that was never a word that had ever crossed Shepard's mind when considering Miranda.
"Before they," Miranda began, but quickly faltered. She shook her head along the pillow. "I was horrible," she repeated.
Shepard waited patiently for the elaboration. She needed Miranda to finally let out whatever it was that was going through her mind, no matter how incoherent and disjointed. That was her job in that moment.
"And I knew it too," Miranda continued. "I knew the whole time but I just couldn't…I hated them so much."
Though she wasn't completely sure who she was talking about, Shepard wrapped a reassuring arm around Miranda as the woman rolled into her.
"It was all my fault," Miranda hissed out bitterly. "I knew this would happen. I knew. I was standing there with her in front of the machines." She burrowed her face into Shepard's chest. "I had plenty of time to destroy everything but I didn't. I could have stopped all of this and I didn't."
Shepard cringed as she could feel Miranda crying into her. "Hey," she soothed quietly, "nothing that happened was your fault." She moved her hands in what she hoped were comforting patterns along Miranda's back.
"I know it feels like we destroyed everything," Shepard whispered, echoing her own torn emotions on the matter, "but Lilly was almost done and that's all he cared about. He was going to destroy them, all of them, and they would have had no warning."
She pressed her face into Miranda's hair, clutching her more tightly. "It hurts to even think it, I know, but at least we gave any of them a chance. And Gwen, I think it will take a long time, but she'll start to recover. Lilly? She's going to have a chance at a normal life, a real chance. You gave her that."
"You gave her that." The words were fast, angry. "I tried so hard but I couldn't…They just made me so angry."
Shepard felt Miranda shift in her grasp and pulled back a bit so the woman could look up at her. She could just barely make out Miranda's face by the dim glow the streetlights offered from outside.
"I looked at them and I just…" Miranda shook her head and her grip tightened where she had been clutching Shepard's shirt. "He's just so fucking disgusting and I…"
She let out a watery laugh that Shepard had to fight not to recoil from. It was a poisonous sound, laced with a venom Shepard had never heard from Miranda before.
"Was. Was so fucking disgusting."
She stretched up and leaned forward, letting their foreheads meet. "I shot him. He was begging in the end. I never thought he would. I imagined it so many times over the years, and I never thought he would beg."
There was silence for a time, too long, but Shepard was afraid to break it. Instead she lay in the dark holding the other woman, trying hard not to think about how very much Miranda would be sure to regret this confession in the morning, no matter how much she needed it.
"I never saw him like that before," Miranda continued suddenly. "I don't think anyone has." Her voice held more wonder than anger then. "You know, there was always that part of me that respected him, but in the end…" Her eyes narrowed. "He begged, Jane. He was on his knees. He begged and bargained, and threw everything he could in my path."
Even in the dim light Shepard had a perfect view of the way Miranda's face twisted up in agony. It nearly destroyed her.
"He sent her back, that other one, that one like Gwen. She fought until her weapons were useless, you know?" The way Miranda was speaking, the way her eyes glossed over, Shepard knew she wasn't really in the present anymore.
"She kept going just because he asked her to, and I don't think there was anything inside her that could make her stop. She just kept coming at me, over and over and over and I…" Miranda's left hand released it's hold on Shepard and flew to her mouth in attempt to disguise a choked sob.
"Jane, I never meant to," Miranda stammered through her fingers, eyes watering. "He made me. He wouldn't let her go. He could have, but he didn't, and I had to…"
She returned then to hiding, once again digging her head into Shepard's chest. "I think if he asked her she would have stopped," she mumbled into the now wet fabric, "but he just couldn't. He had to keep living, and in the end it didn't matter."
Shepard brought up a gentle hand to run along Miranda's hair. "You had to defend yourself. It was never your fault."
"I was horrible," Miranda repeated once more, and Shepard wasn't sure if she hadn't been heard or was being ignored. "You weren't. You were so good." There was a bitter sort of snort. "I was mad at you, you know. It's so stupid but I was. I was jealous. They were so happy with you. They barely even knew you, but it didn't matter." A heavy sigh then. "I could barely even look at them. I was just so angry."
Miranda stiffened. "So angry."
And Shepard knew that the person Miranda had been most angry with was herself. She had been positively disgusted. There were all those miniature versions of herself suffering everyday and she could have put a stop to it before it had even began. She could have saved them by never letting them exist in the first place, but she had turned her back, and Shepard was sure Miranda had known.
She hadn't realized it at first, but now Shepard understood. Miranda had always had it on her mind. From the day she had rescued Oriana, she had thought about all of the data that had been left behind. Before they had even been born her other sister's had been sacrificed for Oriana's sake, and after all those years of denial Miranda had finally had to face that truth. She had had to actually look at the living, suffering, embodiment of her decision and she hadn't been able to handle it.
"Jane?"
Shepard swallowed. "Yeah?" she answered roughly.
"I…I hate myself for it…but I…" Miranda paused, shifting. She went at the confession from a different angle. "I'm…I'm glad he's gone," she started again, tone resolute. "And I'm sorry if that sounds cold."
"It doesn't," Shepard assured her quickly.
Miranda continued on as though no comfort had been offered. "There's this part of me though that I just hate because, I'm just…sad." She sniffed loudly. "I'm sad," she repeated. There was a heavy breath. "I'm sorry."
"Don't ever be sorry."
Miranda didn't reply. They lay together for a long time, Shepard remaining long after she had grown stiff and the arm Miranda rested over had gone numb. She didn't speak out of fear of disturbing the other woman should she be on the cusp of sleep, and frankly wasn't sure what she would say anyways. No, it was better to remain silent. It was better to let Miranda do what she needed on her own time.
"I'm not crying," Miranda mumbled into the damp patch she had wept into the other woman's shirt. It was the last thing she said before sleep finally overcame her.
"I know," Shepard agreed, and she tightened her hold on Miranda, praying that somehow it was enough.
A/N: Just finished reading. Boy was that hefty. Thanks for the continued support everyone. I refuse to let this story get close to a year old and be unfinished so I'm going to take a crack at making the next chapter. Let's finish this puppy. First though I'll try to update my other story.
I'd say two chapters probably before the 3rd game starts. And then honestly we'll zoom along quite quickly.