Puppet (Odds and Ends of Breeder, part three) Explicit, warnings for non-con

[ashacrone]

Odds and Ends:
Puppet, part three

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and Electronic Arts, not me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Warnings: adult language and situations, dub-con and non-con, mentions mpreg, sexual situations, gender-bending, and the Illusive Man being creepy.

Characters/ pairings: Colonist War Hero Paragade ManShep/Illusive Man, Miranda Lawson, Wilson, others mentioned.

Summary: The Illusive Man's investment in Shepard was immense. So when he heard something had caused 'complications,' he decided to make a personal visit to Lazarus Station.

~*~*~*~*~
Miranda had never intended to spend so much time between Shepard's legs.

This was due to her serious reservations about letting Wilson do it. As a result, she had become Shepard's de facto gynecologist as well as his obstetrician. No one but herself or Wilson was allowed into the bio wing where Shepard was housed. They had restricted access to Shepard's body after...

Well, the best she could refer to it was the incident.

She had learned, long before leaving her father, how to compartmentalize. Cerberus went to extremes to protect humanity. They made the hard decisions that civil governments were unable to formulate, let alone carry out. They continued to prepare humanity's place in the galaxy, up to and through the invasion of the Reapers. It was why the Illusive Man had chosen to... had chosen to...

She allowed herself a small frown. There was no physical proof. Oh, Shepard's pregnant and damaged body was there, but they couldn't identify the attacker. Nor had anyone appeared on the security feeds.

There was only one person on Lazarus Station who could have done this. What she didn't understand was why. If the Illusive Man genuinely wanted an offspring, and felt the need to use Shepard's genes, there were any number of ways to achieve it without...

She pulled herself back to reality, walling those thoughts away as she watched her readouts on Shepard's body. Her own stomach knotted up as she watched a contraction force him to bear down.

"At least you aren't aware of the pain," she told Shepard. Of course he didn't answer, instead straining as he pushed. Sweat poured down his blank face, deep red staining his chest and belly. She sighed and patted his shoulder like a he was a prize mare.

It had been a constant battle to maintain a healthy pregnancy. Shepard's body had struggled with the changes occurring: his bloody pressure would shoot up, he would vomit and get dehydrated, or his bloody sugar would spike dangerously high or low at a moment's notice. If they hadn't kept him constantly monitored, the fetus forced on him would have miscarried.

They were approaching the end of fifteen hours of labor since they had chosen to induce. Miranda had contacted the Illusive Man, asking if he wanted updates, or even a video feed.

He had said no.

Miranda was reminded of when her sister, Oriana, was 'born.' Her father hadn't bothered to see her, instead leaving her in the hands of his chosen groomers. Like Miranda herself. Oriana was not to be allowed to see the man who created her until she was deemed worthy of his attention. Ironically, this lack of interest was what had allowed her to rescue the girl at all.

Her stomach twisted again before she felt a surge of excitement. "She's crowning!"

Wilson, who had been silent through most of the labor, nodded.

A few more pushes, a cut, and a loud groan from Shepard heralded the newcomer's arrival, who howled in indignation at her change in environment. Miranda caught her in a blanket, wiping her eyes and mouth as she arched her back to continue crying loud enough to wake the dead.

And somehow, she did.

A small alarm bleat in the room as she looked up from the baby's very blue eyes. "There- on the monitor!"

"He's reacting to outside stimuli," Wilson said, choking on his words. She whipped around, the baby in her arms, as she saw Shepard's blinking blurry eyes around the room. Eyes, that for the first time since the Lazarus Project had begun, had sense to them. "He's showing an awareness of his surroundings- without the VI interface. My god, Miranda, I think he's waking up."

The man was gasping for air, and she could only imagine the amount of pain he was in. He was looking at them, and at her, and reaching up for something.

Not for something. For her. No.

For the baby.

"Damn it, Wilson, he's not ready yet! Give him the sedative!" She looked down at Shepard, taking his grasping hand. "Shepard, don't try to move. Lie still. Try to stay calm."

"Heart rate is climbing- brain activity is off the charts," Wilson muttered after the first dose of sedative. "Stats pushing in the red zone. It's not working!"

Miranda exhaled, and put the baby on Shepard's chest, directing his hand over the squalling infant. "Another dose. Now." Just that small gesture of giving him the baby seemed to make him calm down. Already his pulse was falling as he held his daughter to his chest, her small mouth rooting for a nipple to take.

The second dose of sedative started taking effect even as she latched on, and Shepard's look of distress eased into something more calm, even as he slipped back into unconsciousness. Miranda caught him as he fell backwards, and closed his eyes.

"Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range," Wilson announced, unnecessarily. He glanced back at Shepard and tried to conceal a shudder.

Her chest was heaving like a bellows as she let the infant finish suckling and delivered the afterbirth. Her... mother... continued to sleep, but it was real sleep. Not the twilight consciousness of the VI driving his body. Shepard had finally risen from his own ashes.

Miranda picked the baby up as Wilson scurried away; his lack of comfort with Shepard's intersex nature had been obvious from the beginning. Like it somehow threatened his own masculinity. She grunted to herself as she started hum while tying and cutting the baby's umbilical cord.

"Hello, little one," she murmured as she washed the now calm infant. Bright blue eyes looked up at her with pouty exasperation under a dusting of orange hair. She took after her mother's mother, if what Miranda had found about the Shepard pedigree was true. "I'm going to take you to meet your father."

~*~*~*~*~

Miranda's appearance on the QEC was hardly a surprise to the Illusive Man. Nor was the bundle wrapped in her arms.

He took a drag off his cigarette. "I take it things went well?"

"Yes," she answered, looking down at the baby. Already, she was enchanted. That was something he could use. "But there was a complication. Shepard woke up."

"Really?"

"We sedated him, but his conscious mind fought to the forefront. We're going to cover all traces of his pregnancy from his body, but it's possible his subconscious will remember this. We're going to have to be careful from now on. He finds out about this..." she trailed off, and the Illusive Man nodded. They would lose control. While they could threaten the infant in a worst-possible-situation moment, it would have to be as last resort. Any willing cooperation would go out the airlock, but if they needed a blade on the man's throat... they had it.

But it would only work once.

Did he want to do that to his daughter?

He took a swallow from his ever-present whiskey glass. "See that she's put in the best care, Miranda. I trust your judgment here." His own involvement, or lack thereof, was never in question. He could not show any interest in her life.

Miranda nodded, putting one of her fingers in the newborn's grip.

"Do you want to name her?"

"I didn't think it was really my place," Miranda said, cautiously. "I mean..."

"You've taken care of her, and made sure she survived to birth. I believe you're more than worthy," the Illusive Man answered. "What would you pick?"

Miranda was quiet for a moment, freeing her finger to draw it over the babe's fragile cheek and nose. "Chandra. The moon."

The Illusive Man lifted an eyebrow. "Does that make you the ogress?"

Miranda looked up at him, eyes narrowed, before stepping off the QEC pad. There was nothing left to say.

~*~*~*~*~

"Don't you even want to say hello?" Shepard asked, as Miranda fought to keep from plucking at own sleeves.

"It's not about what I want, it's about what's right for her," she explained, heart rate speeding up. Her lungs fluttered. But it was what she had fought for, all this time. To see Oriana, her warm and bright sunrise, with the family that had loved and raised her. Given her everything that Miranda had always wanted. "The less she knows about me, the better. She's got a family. A life. I'll complicate that for her." She deserved to remain innocent of her soiled sister.

Shepard put his hand on her elbow. "She doesn't need any details. But would it really be so bad for her to know that she has a sister that loves her?"

Miranda looked down at Shepard's hand. Her stomach twisted, the memory of a small body in her arms. "I guess not." Oriana was still so beautiful. So innocent, and loved. Standing with her parents and foster siblings.

Shepard gave her a nudge. "Go on. We'll wait here."

Miranda could step into a board room, a scientific conference or a land war in Asia and be comfortable. Yet somehow she never quite remembered crossing those steps. The words she used to introduce herself were lost in a haze. All that mattered was that the person she had sacrificed so much for was before her and more perfect than she remembered.

Yet, the moment that Oriana's foster family walked over to Shepard and Garrus drew her attention like an electromagnet.

"Now, who is this beauty?" she heard Shepard coo. Her head whipped to the side, heart and lungs slamming to a stop, before thundering with horror.

Oriana's mother, Talia, was holding a six month old infant in her arms. One who clearly liked to flirt with all and any who would smile in her direction. Her hair was red as fire, and with eyes blue as Illium's ever-present neon. Eyes which fixed on Shepard as soon as they approached.

She could hear introductions in the background as she tried to focus on Oriana, but even Oriana was distracted by the sight of Chandra leaning out of her foster mother's arms. Nor could anyone in the spaceport ignore her peels of bright, bubbly laughter as she fell towards Shepard, who caught her with a yelp.

"Well, look at you!" She grabbed Shepard's nose. "Look at that hair." He stroked her wispy curls. "And those teeth!" Chandra's laughter started again as Shepard tickled her chin.

There were so many things Miranda could say at that moment. A part of her was tempted to reveal everything. To beg forgiveness. To tell Shepard that this was the child he mourned, not the miscarriage that haunted him. She wanted to thank him for the chance, however brief, to know the person who was the closest to being the child she would never have.

Then there was so much she left unsaid, hours later, when she walked into the lift with Shepard to return to the Normandy.

And when she cried, it wasn't just for herself.


The End
(Of 'Puppet.' More Odds and Ends later.)
Comments, criticisms and questions welcomed and encouraged.