Dislcaimer: I do not own Mass Effect.
AN: One-shot because I (heart) Thane. And I had fun writing his drell-memories.
Please read & review :)
He felt a hand upon his shoulder. It was soft; a woman's touch, but it was not hers. Such pleasures were a thing of the past. She was gone, and soon he would be too. He'd looked into her loving blue eyes as the life had fled from them.
"Thane?" Samara asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"
"No. But thank you for asking."
The Reaper lunges upward. She kneels behind the barricade, her form perfect and unflinching. Half of a thermal clip remains. She must make this shot, no matter the cost. And she does. As the final round leaves the barrel of her gun, its trajectory set – the fate of the world determined – the Human-Reaper Larva fires off a final, desperate blast of concentrated particle energy. I turn to look at her. She smiles, knowing that she is about to die again, for the last time, but that her shot was good. The particle beam hits her, launching her soul into the next world. Her body falls to the cold metal floor of the platform. Even still, the Reaper collapses. The world collapses around us. We will soon join Shepard in the afterlife.
"She loved you above all else," Samara continued, attempting to console the grieving drell.
"As I loved her. I suppose it is the gods' retribution that our time together was so brief."
"Despite your actions, I see the true colors of your heart, Thane Krios. You are not an evil man."
I awake to find my body crushed by a fragment of one of the Collector platforms. The krogan stomps clumsily over to me, freeing me from its grasp. I almost wish he would have left me there. And then I remember the look in her eyes as the life left them. The look of triumph, the look that demanded her story be told. The look that says "remember me."
The drell stood, walking down to the cargo bay. Lights still flickered; wiring still hung loosely. In the aftermath of the infiltration, destruction, and escape from the Collector base, little attention had been given to the state of the ship.
Five caskets stood neatly in a row. Thane slowly approached the casket in the center. Emblazoned in red on its silver surface were the characters "N7." Placing his hand on it, he dropped to one knee, resting his head on the cold metal that encased the body of his fallen commander – of his fallen lover.
The pain sears through my body as I rise to my feet. Still, it pales in comparison to the pain I feel in my heart – the pain I feel for her. I limp over to her crumpled form. I apprehensively place my hand on the dull white plating of her armor, gently turning her over to face me. I take her in my arms, but she is not there anymore. What I hold is an empty shell of the woman who gave me hope and comfort in a world filled with shit.
He looks around at the other caskets. Jack, who held off the seeker swarms with her biotic energy field, protecting Shepard and himself, even as they took her off to face a fate worse than death itself. Garrus, who fell when a bullet tore through his liver – a bullet that he jumped in front of to save the crew of the Normandy SR2 as they scrambled onto the ship. Mordin, who was blessed with a quick and painless death when a bullet from the Collectors pierced his skull as he tried desperately to close the door behind the squad as they entered the Collector base. And finally Zaeed, the man who'd he'd been at odds with for most of the mission, but who had proved himself by leading the distraction team to victory, even at the expense of his own life.
"Krios, we have to go!" The krogan yells as the walls crumble around us.
"My place is by her side," I reply, my rough fingers brushing her gentle face.
"It's not what she would have wanted!" He yells again, exasperatedly.
"I'm not leaving her," I reply, unwilling to let go.
"Fine!" He says. He picks her body up with one arm running off towards the Normandy SR2. I follow. As the base crumbles around us, he leaps into the airlock. I take a final look back towards the core – the enemy that took Shepard's life, even as she claimed victory. Her gentle voice rings in my ears.
"Remember me."
The entire crew was on edge as the Normandy SR2 eased into the docking bay on the Citadel. None of them wanted to look at Thane; they all knew how much Shepard had meant to him. He stood by the airlock, his belongings neatly packed into his leather satchel.
"What will you do now?" Joker asked.
The drell turned to look at him. He'd never been keen on the hotshot pilot's sarcastic sense of humor, but he respected him as a friend of Shepard's. "I will live out the time I have left as she would have wanted it. I will be a better man, to honor her memory."
"You know, you're always welcome on the Normandy," the pilot said.
"No," Thane replied, his black eyes meeting Joker's. "This ship holds too many painful memories."
Nervously, I open the door to the captain's quarters. She's sitting at her desk. Her uniform hugs the curves of her body. She looks up from her datapad. I stare intently into her blue eyes, trying to discern meaning.
"Thane?" She asks, the look in her eyes becoming one of concern as she meets my own.
"Siha…" I begin. I try to find the words. "I've known I will die for many years. I've tried to leave the galaxy better than I found it. You helped me achieve more than I thought possible. I've righted many wrongs. I've spoken to my son. I should be at peace—"
"Stop." She grasps my arm. Her touch is gentle as she pulls me closer to her. She brings her hand up to touch the roughness of my face – a face defined not by my accomplishments, but by the sorrows of the life that I've lived. I brush her hand off.
I turn away from her in hopes that she will not see the tears that now glide down my cheeks. Tears of sadness and hate – hatred for being cursed to finally find love again, only to be overshadowed by the knowledge of how short our time together will be.
"…I'm afraid, and it shames me!" I curse the fate I face.
"Thane," she whispers, her soft hand sliding into mine. "Be alive with me tonight."
They went their separate ways, at least for the time being. For those who survived, the events that occurred beyond the Omega-4 relay had put things into perspective. The threat of the Reapers was still omnipresent, but even as they faced it, they came to know what mattered to them in life. Miranda had arranged a weekend with her sister on a peaceful human colony in the Skyllian Verge. Grunt had returned to Tuchanka to serve Clan Urdnot in hopes of helping Wrex achieve his goal of uniting the krogan clans. Tali somberly returned to the Migrant Fleet, wanting to give her father a proper burial. Jacob stood with no goal, no ties to bind him, but a good heart to guide him. He would return to fight the Reapers when called to the task, but he needed time to discover himself.
The drell stepped out of the airlock into the dimly lit hallway of the Citadel.
"Thane Krios?" A woman's voice greeted him. He knew in an instant to whom the voice belonged. The familiar tone brought back the memory of the first time she spoke to him. Fighting the urge to relive such a happy moment in his life of sorrow, he turned to the woman.
"Captain Shepard," he said.
"I… I don't really know what to say. My daughter died a hero, Thane Krios. As a soldier, I should honor that, but—"
"It was an honor to serve at her side, Captain."
"That's not why you're here."
"No, it is not. I loved her. Regardless of what you may think of me, of my profession, of my species, know that my love for her was pure and true."
The woman looked up at him, tears beginning to fill her blue eyes. Shepard's eyes. "I'm glad she found someone who brought her happiness in her final days."
Her arm lies gently across my chest. I feel the warmth from her body as she sleeps peacefully at my side. Temporary warmth in a cold world, but warmth nonetheless. It is moments like these that can make a dead soul feel alive. Shepard is my Siha, my rock in a sea of madness, my light in the suffocating darkness.
We may die tonight. We probably will die tonight. If this is the last good memory I have before marching off into the dismal horrors of battle, before venturing into the unknown, then so be it. Perhaps this memory will be enough to keep me alive through the hell that awaits us.
The drell approached the C-SEC office, unsure of how his son would see him now. He'd changed much since their brief meeting a mere three months ago. It's amazing how much war can change a man, the drell reflected. And how much a woman can change a man.
The younger drell appeared in the doorway, clad in the dark blue trainee's uniform.
"Dad?" he asked uncertainly.
"Kolyat," Thane replied. "I … I wanted a chance to speak with you, under more ... favorable ... circumstances."
"Yeah," Kolyat said dryly, recalling their past meeting with embarrassment.
"I know there are a lot of times when I should have been there for you, and I wasn't," Thane continued. "There's nothing I can do to change the past, son. But I can offer you what little time I have left."
"To what purpose?"
"You're young, Kolyat. Your life is yours – soon I will be gone from it. What you do with it is up to you and you alone. I only ask of you one thing."
"What, father?"
"Be a better man than I was."