At the Edge of Heaven
folder
+M through R › Mass Effect
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
33,704
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+M through R › Mass Effect
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
33,704
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do now own the copyright for Mass Effect or its associated characters. This story is simply for fun and I do not make any money from this work.
A Crack in the Ice
“You were supposed to be monitoring him, damn it!” Miranda’s arms trembled as she leaned over Shepard’s unconscious body, her shallow and panicked breaths shaking her body. “What the hell went wrong?”
She glanced up at and glared at Wilson’s back as he punched in various diagnosis programs on the nearby terminal. Miranda took several deep breaths, trying to calm her frazzled nerves and straighten up before he turned around.
“Everything reads clean.” Wilson shrugged “There is no way he should have woken.”
“Well he obviously did. Find out why before it happens again. He is too damn important to lose now.” She straightened her shoulders and stared right into Wilson’s eyes. “Actually, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Before hearing his reply, Miranda simply spun around, her hair whipping in a furious arc, and marched out the door. It hissed shut behind her and she stopped to take a deep shuddering breath before exhaling forcefully. She heard the muted strains of “heartless bitch” and “ice queen” through the door as Wilson loudly complained again. She shook her head, deflecting the familiar jibes and quickly set off down the hall, her heels loudly clicking in the silent corridors. She didn’t need anyone’s approval. She had a job to do and she did it. Failure simply was not an option for her.
She calmly strode down the corridors with her familiar confidence. She was one of the best and she knew it. The Illusive Man would not have trusted such an expensive and volatile project to anyone else. The clicking of her heels gently reinforced her briefly shaken confidence. She had taken the project this far. She had rebuilt Shepard, bone by bone, muscle by muscle, inch by agonising inch. She had brought him back from the dead. It was her hard work. It was her determination. Who cared if some jealous subordinate hated her? She was only doing her job. She was ensuring humanity’s survival.
But she had almost failed. The abrupt and jarring thought shot through her body and Miranda stumbled in her usually strong and sure gait. Her legs grew unbearably weak and her knees trembled beneath her, struggling to hold her suddenly exhausted body up. Her right arm shot out and her hand firmly pressed into the wall as she doubled over. Her chest was tight and her shoulders shook with each stubborn breath. She had almost failed.
“Damn it.” She whispered once and wiped her face with her free hand. Two long and hard years of work had come a hair’s breadth from exploding in her face. The choked words, the painful spasms, his fearful and confused eyes darting around the room… everything she had worked for had started to crumble right before her eyes. Shepard had almost died right there, in front of her.
With one tired sigh, Miranda turned and leaned her back against the cold metal wall. Her legs still trembled beneath her as she took several deep breaths to calm herself again. But her body refused to stop shaking. Every breath fought her, her chest and shoulders shuddering as each breath came in halting gasps. She shut her eyes and let her head fall backwards to rest on the wall. She just couldn’t stop shaking. She slowly sank to the floor, her bottom hitting the cold metal with a soft thump.
“Pull it together.” The chastising words rang hollow as she continued to tremble even as she bent forward and wrapped her arms around her thighs just under her knees. She hadn’t failed, Shepard was still alive and the Lazarus Project was going strongly despite the hiccup. There was no reason to fall to pieces now. The job was almost done. “Come on, pull it together!”
But her body refused to listen. Still shaking, she buried her head between her knees and sighed. She might not have failed, but she couldn’t get Shepard’s face out of her head, his frantic eyes briefly shining before darkening with confusion. Though she refused to admit it to herself, those few moments of frightful panic had shocked her.
So the stoic and composed “ice queen” sat huddled on the floor in the secluded corridor and trembled. The human face of a man refusing to disappear and fade. He wasn’t just a project anymore, but a hurt and confused man who had just woken from a nightmare. She didn’t know how to handle that.
She glanced up at and glared at Wilson’s back as he punched in various diagnosis programs on the nearby terminal. Miranda took several deep breaths, trying to calm her frazzled nerves and straighten up before he turned around.
“Everything reads clean.” Wilson shrugged “There is no way he should have woken.”
“Well he obviously did. Find out why before it happens again. He is too damn important to lose now.” She straightened her shoulders and stared right into Wilson’s eyes. “Actually, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Before hearing his reply, Miranda simply spun around, her hair whipping in a furious arc, and marched out the door. It hissed shut behind her and she stopped to take a deep shuddering breath before exhaling forcefully. She heard the muted strains of “heartless bitch” and “ice queen” through the door as Wilson loudly complained again. She shook her head, deflecting the familiar jibes and quickly set off down the hall, her heels loudly clicking in the silent corridors. She didn’t need anyone’s approval. She had a job to do and she did it. Failure simply was not an option for her.
She calmly strode down the corridors with her familiar confidence. She was one of the best and she knew it. The Illusive Man would not have trusted such an expensive and volatile project to anyone else. The clicking of her heels gently reinforced her briefly shaken confidence. She had taken the project this far. She had rebuilt Shepard, bone by bone, muscle by muscle, inch by agonising inch. She had brought him back from the dead. It was her hard work. It was her determination. Who cared if some jealous subordinate hated her? She was only doing her job. She was ensuring humanity’s survival.
But she had almost failed. The abrupt and jarring thought shot through her body and Miranda stumbled in her usually strong and sure gait. Her legs grew unbearably weak and her knees trembled beneath her, struggling to hold her suddenly exhausted body up. Her right arm shot out and her hand firmly pressed into the wall as she doubled over. Her chest was tight and her shoulders shook with each stubborn breath. She had almost failed.
“Damn it.” She whispered once and wiped her face with her free hand. Two long and hard years of work had come a hair’s breadth from exploding in her face. The choked words, the painful spasms, his fearful and confused eyes darting around the room… everything she had worked for had started to crumble right before her eyes. Shepard had almost died right there, in front of her.
With one tired sigh, Miranda turned and leaned her back against the cold metal wall. Her legs still trembled beneath her as she took several deep breaths to calm herself again. But her body refused to stop shaking. Every breath fought her, her chest and shoulders shuddering as each breath came in halting gasps. She shut her eyes and let her head fall backwards to rest on the wall. She just couldn’t stop shaking. She slowly sank to the floor, her bottom hitting the cold metal with a soft thump.
“Pull it together.” The chastising words rang hollow as she continued to tremble even as she bent forward and wrapped her arms around her thighs just under her knees. She hadn’t failed, Shepard was still alive and the Lazarus Project was going strongly despite the hiccup. There was no reason to fall to pieces now. The job was almost done. “Come on, pull it together!”
But her body refused to listen. Still shaking, she buried her head between her knees and sighed. She might not have failed, but she couldn’t get Shepard’s face out of her head, his frantic eyes briefly shining before darkening with confusion. Though she refused to admit it to herself, those few moments of frightful panic had shocked her.
So the stoic and composed “ice queen” sat huddled on the floor in the secluded corridor and trembled. The human face of a man refusing to disappear and fade. He wasn’t just a project anymore, but a hurt and confused man who had just woken from a nightmare. She didn’t know how to handle that.