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“Why don’t you just kill me?” He growls.
Shepard doesn’t respond, choosing instead to just continue watching the man in silence. The man glares back, his face twisted with equal parts contempt and hate. But there is also something else there, in his eyes. Something Shepard hasn’t quite been able to place yet.
The man shouts frustratedly, struggling against his restraints. “Why? Why couldn’t you just let me die?” He yells.
“Why do you want to die so badly?” Shepard asks, speaking for the first time.
“Why would I want to live?” The man shoots back. “There is nothing for me. Nothing!”
There it is again, in his eyes. What is that?
He held the man’s gaze for a long moment before asking, “How do you know? Have you looked?” The man just snarls. “You’re my clone. You look exactly like me. Have my face, my body, my voice. All of it is completely the same.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that?”
“But,” Shepard continues unperturbed, “That’s where the similarities end. You and I are completely different people. The way we move, the way we speak, the way we think, it’s all unique.”
While his expression doesn’t change, he turns himself more completely towards Shepard, interested. “Get to the point already.”
Switching tactics, Shepard asks, “What do you know about Miranda Lawson?”
His double blinks stupidly at him, confused. “What?”
“Miranda was genetically engineered by her father to be perfect in every way,” Shepard smiles slightly, “Which I think is debateable, but that’s not my point.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Her father also had Miranda cloned.”
Clone Shepard goes completely still, his face blank and completely devoid emotion.
“Her name is Oriana.”
“Name?” The man echos warily.
Shepard decides to go for broke. “They both consider themselves to be sisters.”
The clone laughs bitterly. “So you think we can be, what? Brothers?” He laughs again. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Why not?” He counters. “Like I said, we’re completely different.” He grins goofily, actually enjoying the idea. “We could be twins.”
“Not on your fucking life,” the clone spits.
Which only serves to make Shepard’s grin widen. “Think about it. You could be your own person, have your own identity, your own name. Not John, obviously, because that clearly didn’t work out for you.”
But the clone wasn’t listening. “Name?” He whispers to himself. That same look flashes through his eyes again and- oh.
Oh.
That’s fear.
The man’s head snaps back up to resume glaring at Shepard. “Why? Why would you do any of this after everything I’ve done? What the hell is your game?” He yells, sounding manic. So it was more than just fear, it was terror.
“If I had known,” Shepard starts sadly, “I would have come and got you.”
“Shut up!”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that that bitch got to you first, made you into her puppet.”
“Just stop,” the man pleads weakly.
“But you have the potential to be so much more. You could be great.”
Shaking his head violently, the clone scoots away from Shepard, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as he can, and Shepard knows that there isn’t going to be anymore progress today.
“Think about it,” he says, his words firm but gentle, and reluctantly leaves.
-
“Garrett,” the clone says immediately when Shepard goes to see him next.
“What?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
He meets Shepard’s eyes, the terror from before gone, replaced with a determination that Shepard is all too familiar with.
“My name,” the man says, his jaw set, “is Garrett.”