A/N: A different take on the relationship than what I have been doing of late. Shepard will have more weight to her than she has had in my previous stories, though she is still the same version of the character so of course she still will be a little shit when the situation calls for it. Character oriented, as usual, but this one shall be unlike the scenarios I have previously played around with.

Probably more serious than I'm used to, but no worries, I'm sure my immaturity will sneak in here and there. I tried my hardest to keep away from game dialogue, so things are more often described than related. If that doesn't work well for you guys let me know and I'll change it up in the future. I'll be zooming through the game's opening in this chapter so hang on, I promise chapter 2 will have more original stuff.

Jane Shepard opened her eyes, squinting at the intensity of the lights that bore down on her form, nearly blinded. Everything was unfocused, blurry. She had no idea where she was, and probably would not be able to recognize the room even if it was a familiar one. She panicked for a moment; vision was more than a little important in her line of work.

Slowly, the colors around her began to take shape, and as she became more aware of her surroundings she realized that circumstances were less than ideal. The ground appeared to be shaking, tremors disrupting the air around her. It was hard to completely focus on that however when her whole body felt as though it had been shoved through a meat grinder. The entirety of her being throbbed and it felt as though her limbs were made of lead. The skin of her face felt tight and stretched across her skull, as though it were a size too small. She lifted a heavy hand to tug at it in her discomfort, but was interrupted.

"Shepard, your scars aren't healed but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack."

The voice was filled with authority and swam through the air around her. Instantly she felt calmer, more at ease. She knew that voice, had been soothed by it in a long forgotten dream. Reluctantly, she moved, rolling off of the table and onto the floor, unsteadily finding her feet. She barely managed to stand, and stumbled with the first step, having to reach out and grab the table for support.

Shepard winced at the sudden stab of pain that traveled through her body like a wildfire, beginning in her toes and blazing relentlessly until it blurred her vision once more. She gasped and clutched her head with the hand that wasn't gripping the table beside her. She felt like death.

"There's a pistol in the locker on the other side of the room. Hurry."

At length, she managed to straighten up a bit. She took a few careful steps forward, testing how much weight each leg could hold with tentative movements. Apparently, there was no time for such caution.

"I know it hurts, but you don't have time to wait around, Shepard. Grab your weapon and armor."

Shepard paled at the idea of donning heavy armor. Her own bodyweight was difficult enough to sustain at the moment. Scanning the room carefully until she found her target, Shepard moved forward with steely resolution. Every step was like a dagger digging into her calves, begging her to fall to the ground in agony.

She wished she could speak to the disembodied voice but found speech near impossible. Her throat was raw and thick, it burned when she swallowed, as though it had not been used in years. Silently, she followed the commands she was given. She was alone, disoriented, and more than a little on edge. There really was no choice but to trust the voice implicitly, it was the only familiarity to grasp onto in this new world of unknowns.

The armor was a burden at first, but it became easier to bear with each step she took. The more time passed, the more she was growing accustomed to her body being wracked with pain. The throbbing dulled a bit, more likely due to her being distracted with taking out mechs than with any real healing going on.

She moved along relatively well considering her condition, only getting pinned down once or twice on her travels. With the help of her guardian voice she was able to navigate through the more difficult situations. That was why it was such a blow when it was taken from her. She was alone then, in a strange facility with not another human life to be found. Shepard pushed on; though she was shaken and growing weary. The adrenaline of the situation was beginning to wear off, leaving her with little but pure exhaustion. It was more than a small relief when she ran into a man who later introduced himself as Jacob.

"Shepard. What the hell? What are you doing here; I thought you were a work in progress?"

She tried to respond but the words caught in her throat. He looked at her with sympathy, but the moment was interrupted by a fresh wave of mechs entering across the room. Jacob impressed her considerably as they worked together to take them out, and she felt more comfortable with him as a result. He explained as much as he could about how she had gotten there, about the attack on the Normandy and the aftermath of its destruction. It was a frustrating conversation, as Jacob clearly did not have much knowledge on the whole situation.

The news of her death was unsurprising. In fact, the most unnerving thing about it was how unaffected she felt by the revelation. It felt right when he said it, she knew it in her gut. She remembered the notion; remembered the moment when she had known it was going to happen. It was fact.

Honestly, the most surprising thing about the idea of her own death was the fact that at the moment she found herself so undoubtedly alive.

Clearing her throat, Shepard tried once more to speak. It felt like she was gargling gravel, but at least she managed to form words. "Are you with Miranda?" She had picked up that name not too long ago; having done some rushed snooping in a couple of the terminals she had found scattered throughout the base. "She was talking to me when I first woke up. We lost contact just before I ran into you."

He cringed at how raspy she sounded, swallowing hard to soothe his own throat. "Miranda Lawson is the station's ranking officer," he explained quickly from where they crouched together in the small bit of cover the railing offered. "She led the Lazarus team."

Shepard's brow furrowed. "Lazarus?"

Jacob looked apologetic. "I forgot this is all new to you right now." He hesitated. "It was her job to bring you back to life, no matter what. You said you lost contact – could you tell what was happening?"

"There was some gunfire and an explosion right before I lost her," Shepard offered lamely, knowing it was less than comforting information she was sharing.

Jacob nodded. "She knows how to take care of herself, but I hope she's okay. Did she-"

They heard the doors burst open as yet another five mechs burst through and took aim at them. Jacob cursed under his breath before straightening up to open fire. Shepard moved to mimic him, but suddenly found herself unable to function. A bullet struck a mech dead on in the chest, and the machine exploded, taking the one alongside it in its wake.

It was a familiar pattern, the explosion, one she recalled with more clarity than she cared to. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt herself suddenly being thrown out into the void. The dark abyss of space, cold and utterly alone. She started gasping. There was no air. She couldn't breathe. The professional white of the facility slowly faded around her as her vision once again dimmed. She made to scream, but nothing escaped her lips as she folded up into herself on the ground and began clawing at the back of her neck frantically for something that wasn't there.

Jacob finished off the last mech before turning down to face her, concern etched over his features. The very woman they had been working to rebuild, the one he should be protecting, was curled up in the fetal position rocking violently back and forth. Jacob called out to her a couple of times, but received no response. She seemed to be hyperventilating, panicked in such a way that left her unable to respond. The skin on her neck was growing red from where her own fingernails were repeatedly digging in and he was worried that soon she may draw blood. He really wished Miranda were there.

"Shepard," he called out once more, holstering his pistol on his belt to free up his hand. He grabbed each of her arms and pried them away from her neck. "You need to calm down. What's happening?"

She looked up at him, eyes wide with fear. Although there was no recognition in her gaze, the physical contact seemed to soothe her to some extent. Jacob knew something must have gone wrong somewhere along the lines of reconstruction and there was only one woman in the universe who could possibly fix this. It was imperative that he get Shepard to the shuttles, and he could only pray that Miranda would be waiting for them.

The woman let herself be pulled to her feet, and her breathing was returning to normal, but she showed no signs of being able to answer him. Jacob kept a hand on the small of her back, and the other on her forearm, guiding her along the halls of the facility. Three times he had to stop, dragging her down behind cover when mechs attacked. Luckily, he was more than a match for the simple creatures, and she never ended up proving as too much of a burden for him to handle. Still, it was a relief when they bumped into Wilson and he knew he would have another gun on his side.

"What's going on with her?" Jacob asked as he patched up Wilson's leg. He figured the man would be able to explain what had happened just as well as Miranda could, given his clearance.

Wilson took the woman in. She crouched next to Jacob, looking on at him blankly, not seeming particularly inclined to speak. Shepard was carefully studying Wilson with a piercing gaze, as though she recognized him from somewhere long ago.

He felt nervous under the woman's intent stare, as if she knew what he had done. Glancing away, he grit his teeth. "I don't know. It doesn't matter now; we have to get off this damn station."

Shepard's eyes flashed in recognition at the sound of his voice. "I know you," she whispered. He had been talking, she had heard him once in another life a long time ago. There had been the face, Miranda's. Miranda's face, and then...

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

Both men looked up at her in surprise. "Shepard?" Jacob asked, hope creeping into his voice. Maybe it had just been a fluke. A short misstep in her recovery and now the real Shepard was back.

She glanced at him, as if only just realizing he was there. "Jacob." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened back there."

"Don't worry about it," he offered honestly. "Let's just make sure it doesn't happen again and get out of here in one piece."

Shepard nodded in agreement, feeling her senses return to their full potential. It was as if her whole body had gone through some sort of power surge. She had felt so weak, and then out of nowhere it was as though her strength had come flooding back into her system. Shepard stood in front of the two men, and helped Jacob pull Wilson to his feet. They pressed onward, steadily making their way to freedom.

Well, everyone except Wilson. He soon met an unfortunate end in the form of Miranda. Any excitement Shepard had felt at seeing she had made it out of her own predicament unscathed vanished as soon as the woman pulled the trigger on the unsuspecting man.

Shepard kept her pistol trained on the woman, even as she explained Wilson's apparent betrayal. She was glad Jacob seemed to hold the same reservations she did. In the end however, Miranda's story seemed to add up and she did not seem inclined to harm them in any way. It was Jacob's acceptance combined with the heavy weight of her arms causing her hands to tremble that lead to Shepard finally dropping her guard. Miranda had apparently brought her back and had certainly gotten her to the shuttle unharmed, that was enough for Shepard in the state she was in. All she wanted was a long sleep.

As soon as she agreed, Miranda led them both onto the shuttle. A part of Shepard was screaming at her to go back and search for survivors, but she knew that in the state she was in she would only wind up getting herself killed, again. Shepard fell to the seat gracelessly, regretting the clumsy motion immediately as it led to a stab of pain shooting up her spine. The dull ache in her body was intensifying once more as the shuttle took off and the threat of death was disappearing behind them. She could fully focus on the pain now, on how her joints resisted every bend and her every bone seemed to creak. There was a pounding at the base of her skull, seeming to expand throughout her brain with each thud.

Miranda and Jacob sat side by side in the shuttle across from her. Miranda watched carefully as she questioned Shepard on her past, despite Jacob's protests. The commander seemed to remember her history in vivid detail, never faltering from the facts. Her demeanor was more than a little concerning however. Frequently, Shepard's face would scrunch up in pain, and more than once she raised a trembling hand to rub at her forehead.

Miranda halted her other inquiries for a moment. "Do you have a headache?" she asked. Shepard grimaced at her professional tone, knowing any interest the woman had was clearly in her project being a success and hardly in Shepard's personal wellbeing.

"I wish that was all," she joked, and Miranda's eyes narrowed at the comment.

Shepard should be feeling sore, yes, her body being used so thoroughly after remaining on an operating table for so long, but besides some tenderness there really should not have been too many problems. Miranda scooted forward in her seat to kneel on the ground, reaching up to hold Shepard's face between her hands.

"What hurts?" She asked as she held open Shepard's eye with her thumb, gazing intently to examine something or other Shepard couldn't fathom. She was a soldier; it was more about shooting things than studying them. Doctors usually ended up simply leaving the woman confused. Chakwas had had her in this position more than once, Shepard remembered fondly, and more often than not she had ended up being scolded for never sitting still.

"Saying what doesn't would be a shorter answer," Shepard offered with a grimace, hoping to earn a laugh.

Miranda seemed far from amused while she checked the other eye. "I'm going to have to give you a proper examination as soon as we dock. It was far too early for you to be mobile, let alone taking part in firefights." She sighed heavily and returned to her seat, earning a smirk from Shepard.

Her pain was nothing but an inconvenience to the woman. She settled back in her own seat, as Jacob gave Miranda a sideways glance. "Actually," he said softly to her, "maybe we should go up front. I need to talk to you about something."

Shepard fought hard against the impulse to roll her eyes as Miranda nodded and they moved to the front of the shuttle to whisper quietly amongst themselves. She knew Jacob was most likely relaying her little episode to the woman, which would only end up in more poking and prodding for her. Great, Miranda would be thrilled to hear she was emotionally unstable as well physically below her expectations.

Shepard let her mind wander as she waited for them to return. Her thoughts drifted back to the Normandy, to the friends she had made and the adventures they had shared. It was scary; being on a shuttle to god knows where with people she knew little about after being dead for what they claimed to be two years. She wondered why she didn't feel more panicked about the whole situation. Perhaps she was used to it after chasing myths across the universe for so long, the fantastic never really felt very fantastic anymore. Though that was certainly true, it was more likely she was just utterly exhausted and unable to properly process all of the information being thrown at her.

Miranda and Jacob returned to the back of the shuttle just minutes later to discover her passed out against the seat, slumped over gracelessly, and twitching slightly with unsettling dreams.

Shepard took a tired step back out into the hall, she felt sluggish and at a loss. Instantly she was being called upon, forced into the fray. Some new danger was out there, harvesting human colonies with ruthless efficiency. She was expected to trust this organization, this 'Illusive Man' blindly. He had appealed to her sense of honor shamelessly, constantly telling her she was the only one capable of saving thousands of lives.

Of course Shepard was drawn to the cause, but she had seen enough of Cerberus in her previous travels to know that they were far from a trusted ally. She was fairly affable throughout the meeting, relenting enough to let the man hear what he wanted from her, but her sole focus was on getting back into the hands of more familiar superiors.

The Illusive Man had claimed the Alliance was denying everything, was ignoring this new threat as well as the impending arrival of the Reapers, but Shepard took every accusation with a grain of salt. The leader of a terrorist organization was far from a reliable source of information. She listened to the Intel the man offered with an open mind, storing it all away to later pass on to the Alliance. Getting back where she belonged, finding Anderson, Hackett even, that was what she needed to do.

The man had dismissed her rather suddenly, asking her to send in Miranda after herself. He had said it was not long ago that a colony had been hit, and he wanted Shepard to be there to see for herself if his words had any truth behind them.

Though she did not say it, Shepard hardly doubted the validity of his claims. There was no question that if someone or something was harming innocents she would be there to combat them, Shepard was just dead set on making sure that when she did so she was wearing Alliance colors. The first chance she got, she was planning to slip away.

As Shepard passed out of the room and motioned for Miranda to head in herself, the woman took her project in with a careful eye. Jacob's tale had more than disturbed her. She had known there would be repercussions from Shepard's early awakening, but his story suggested deep psychological trauma. There was no way of knowing if this problem would have arisen if everything had gone as planned, it's not as though someone had ever been successfully revived before. With a heavy heart, she stepped into the circle on the ground, transmitting her image far across the reaches of space to where the Illusive Man sat waiting. He was not going to be pleased with the stunt Wilson had pulled.

He waited until she acknowledged that Shepard was indeed out of the room and the door was securely shut before speaking. "Miranda, I must say I found the reports rather concerning. You had been working quite closely with Dr. Wilson."

Unconsciously, her fists clenched at her sides. He was really asking why she had not noticed his betrayal before the event had taken place, how she had been so careless as to let things escalate to the point they had. "Despite the circumstances Shepard was functioning in battle at her peak capacity. The project was a success." Miranda decided to keep Jacob's revelation to herself for the time being, she already was dealing with enough allegations being thrown her way. She would see to it personally that whatever problems Shepard was having would be sorted out promptly, her employer being none the wiser.

"We'll see about that," he said before taking a sip of his drink. Miranda bristled at the clear accusation in his voice. "Either way, there is nothing to be done about the matter now. Shepard is awake, and our enemies are moving."

"What do you need from me?" She stood a bit straighter, eager to prove she was far from expendable even though Shepard was off of her operating table.

The Illusive Man gave her a hard look, carefully scanning her projected image with a guarded gaze. "I've already informed Shepard that you and Jacob will be accompanying her to the latest colony hit. Keep a close eye on her, as expected she has more than a few reservations about working with us. If the worst should happen, I trust you to be on top of the situation. Sedate her if necessary, though I expect that alternative to be a last resort."

Miranda nodded before stepping out of the projection, the dismissal in his voice had been clear.

A/N: This chapter was just a starter, so I know it wasn't absolutely thrilling. I'm excited to move on though. We're going to follow the basic plot, but as the title suggests this will be a character interaction story. It will be slightly different than the way I've portrayed them before. The story shall be mostly quiet and always intimate. Thus, most game moments with be mentioned and described, but rarely spelled out for you. Visit youtube if you need a refresher :p