Author's Note: This story is a spin-off from "Compromised," detailing the events Thane flashes back to in Chapter 13. It's not necessary to have read that first, but I'm doing this one in a very similar style. Hope you enjoy!

Prayers for the Wicked

Prologue: The People Lost

"Thane? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Thane set down the datapad he'd been reading—a translation of The Divine Comedy, an epic poem from ancient Earth—and turned at the sound of Kasumi's voice. She sounded hesitant, almost nervous, a far cry from her usual confidence and bravado. Even her body language suggested uncertainty. "Of course," he said warmly, and gestured to the chair across the table from where he sat. As she gratefully took a seat, he asked, "What can I do for you, Kasumi?"

"Well, I was hoping I could ask you a kind of… personal question," she said slowly. "About memories."

Curious, Thane folded his hands under his chin, resting his elbows on the tabletop. "What is it you wish to know?"

Kasumi fidgeted, and wouldn't meet his eyes. "You told me about what happened to your wife. I… wanted to talk about your memories of her. If that's okay."

"Ah. A personal question, indeed." He studied her thoughtfully: normally bright eyes downcast, head bowed, shoulders slumped. She looked… tired, in more ways than one. Of course. "This is regarding Keiji's graybox, isn't it?" he asked gently.

If that was the case, as he strongly suspected it was, it made sense that she would come to him. Her lover's fate had been distressingly similar to Irikah's, and she had sought revenge on his murderer in much the same way Thane had. And now, much as Thane's perfect memory would forever preserve in perfect clarity every moment he had spent with his wife, Kasumi was in possession of the neural implant that had recorded all of Keiji's experiences of her, and could play them back at will.

Miserably, Kasumi nodded. "Shepard thinks I should destroy it. Keiji wanted me to destroy it. But I can't let him go." Now she did look at him, something in her face pleading for understanding. "It… it hurts, replaying his memories. It hurts so much. But I can't stop." Her voice cracked as a tear slid down her cheek. "If you could… forget Irikah—no, not altogether, I mean… just… let the details fade. Would you?"

Thane sat back, momentarily stunned by the question. "I had… never considered the possibility," he murmured. But the possibility did not bear much consideration, and he shook his head. "No. Painful though they may at times be, the memories are all I have left of her. I would not give them up."

"Are they still?" Kasumi asked plaintively. "Painful, I mean? After all this time?"

Thane recognized what he saw in her: the desolation of love torn apart, the cold ashes of revenge taken, the need to escape the emptiness left behind. It brought back uncomfortable memories of his own.

(just give me one reason)

But where Thane had briefly thought to drown his suffering in the ocean, Kasumi had Keiji's memories in which to lose herself. And unlike the waters of the Encompassing, those memories could one day be a source of comfort. "They can be," he admitted. "To lose someone you love… is to lose a part of your own soul. It is a wound that never truly heals. But in time, the memories can become a place of solace, if you allow them. And the pain itself becomes a memory of the love that was."

Kasumi smiled despite herself. "I hadn't thought about it that way. Thanks, Thane. That… actually helps." She drew a shaky breath, letting it out slowly as she bowed her head to wipe the tears from her face. When she looked up again, some of her old irrepressible spark was beginning to return. "I've been going through some of the heists I ran with Keiji. We made a great team, he and I. We had fun together." She tilted her head to one side and regarded Thane curiously. "What about you? Did you ever work with a partner?"

Thane blinked in mild surprise at the question—it wasn't something anyone else on the crew, not even Shepard, had ever thought to ask him—then nodded. "I did. In the early years of my service to the Compact, I was eager to work alongside another, and often took partnered assignments." He hesitated, then added softly, "That… changed."

"Sounds like a story."

"Indeed," he reluctantly acknowledged, "though it's a long and… perhaps a somewhat embarrassing one."

Kasumi smiled brightly. "Even better. Come on, Thane, dish!" she wheedled. "I won't tell a soul, I promise. And I could use a little cheering up."

Thane raised his eyebrow ridge skeptically. "You intend to laugh at my expense?"

"Maybe," Kasumi teased, eyes twinkling. "What else are embarrassing stories for?"

"Hmm." Thane pressed steepled fingers to his lips as he allowed the memories to surface. "We shall see."