He almost always returned at night. A habit, really. Disappearing in the dead night to return in that same abyss of black. He was always silent. The moons outside Kahje illuminated the sleepy village with soft hues of blue and white. The air was dry, as it was in these domes. His lungs sighed with content, soothed. His last contract had left him tangling in the tropics of an asari planet—always wet and thick with humidity. An unkind gesture from his contractor, but he did not have the luxury to refuse.
He slipped in through the front door. The room scanned him—a precaution he had set immediately upon returning to his work. The soft light of the scanner filled his body with lines of silver.
Identified. Thane Krios. The VI would not wake her.
The room fell back into darkness. Stillness. It was nearly tangible.
His eyes adjusted as he moved silently through the room. He needed no light to find his way across his own home. Drell memory made it possible. He could paint the memory of every corner with striking vividness.
His body moved like liquid, feet making no noise, furniture undisturbed, the room exactly as he had left it. He took a slight step to the right, padding silently around the kitchen table. His left hand trailed across a chair. He could smell Gralidiya—a beautiful flower of gold, sweet to the senses and native to his homeworld. She always placed a fresh one when she knew he was coming home. A smile crept to his face, the thoughtfulness moving his heart. His battlesleep drifted away into nothing. He was home.
Kolyat was sleeping—as he should be. Curled tightly into a ball, blankets surrounding him, looking almost suffocated. His face was soft with sleep, but a tenseness knitted his brow. Thane bent over the bed, disturbed by that tension. He drew the back of his hand gently across his sons cheek. Kolyat did not wake but he shifted towards the touch. Thane pressed a kiss to his sons forehead. The tension ceased.
For a long moment Thane strayed. Wanting nothing more than to gather Kolyat into his arms and reveal that he was home. Kolyat would know by morning. For now, he must sleep. Thane's chest constricted painfully as he stood. He waved his hand in a slow arc and the dim-light Kolyat slept with fluttered into darkness. It was the light that left his sleep so fitful. But he refused to sleep without it. Thane made a habit of turning it off every night when he was home after Kolyat had fallen asleep. Kolyat did not ever notice.
He shrugged off his jacket as he moved down the hallway. His feet were bare now. The carpet beneath him was coarse. He enjoyed the contrast on his skin. He entered their bedroom silently, but she sensed him. She always did. A slight shuffle as her body shifted. He could feel her eyes on him.
"Thane...?" Her voice was tired, but welcoming. His knee hit the corner of the bed as he climbed to it. Her hand reached for him, fingers curling behind his neck as she guided his mouth to hers. She turned fully to him, her arms snaking about his body, pressing them close. He settled into the bed. His arms fitted around her perfectly, each of their curves pooling together, melding as one. She was asleep instantly.
He held her for many hours after, memories threatening to reach his voice, until finally slipping into sleep.
The memories were not bad ones. They simply left a longing in his chest that hurt worse than the disease slowly drowning him. The drell lay in his cot, hands folded neatly over his stomach, staring blankly at the ceiling above. Finally he forced himself to his feet.
Sleep had never come easy.
The ship was quiet at this hour. Save for a few wandering crewmen that, by this time, were use to finding Thane ghosting about the ship after hours. When he had first arrived two months ago there had been more than a passing glance of suspicion. He did not blame them. He would not trust himself either in their position.
He moved about the deck with numbing disinterest. Hands clasped behind his back, shoulders squared, each step light, silent. He stopped at the window of the med-bay. His gaze shifted right—silver orbs floating in the oily black flickering to find his own reflection. He looked tired. He felt tired. He took a slow breath and his lungs expanded painfully. He felt a crackling in his chest. He wondered how many more days he had left. And why he cared.
He heard footsteps but did not turn. They were heavy, messy. Someone as tired as he. Victim to the thought that they too could find comfort within the steel walls of the Normandy.
"Thane?" The voice belonged to Shepard. Curious, the drell turned to face him. Thane nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "What are you doing up?"
Thane did not answer immediately. Choosing instead to pick his words carefully. Shepard, instead, answered for him.
"Are you feeling sick?" Shepard gestured to the med-bay. "Should I call Dr. Chakwas?"
"That is not necessary, Commander." Thane offered a smile. "I am just restless."
"Yeah. You and me both." Shepard sighed heavily and dug his fingers into his growing locks. Thane noted the gesture. Shepard did it a lot. Mostly when he was nervous. "I've got a lot of shit to think about. Did you hear what Jack wants to do?" Thane nodded once. Everyone had. Word traveled fast in such tight quarters. It also helped that Jack would prowl the halls practically screaming at anyone she came across what she was going to do to Cerberus and the Illusive Man "when this was all over". "Fucking Cerberus, I swear to God." Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply.
"Are you worried?" Thane asked.
"Hell yeah I am. I got a psychotic biotic downstairs ready to tear a hole in the hull. I mean, I don't blame her. It's just..." Shepard sighed loudly and glanced to the med-bay. "Are you sure you're all right."
"Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. I am fine."
"You don't look fine." Shepard gestured to the drell. "You look like you haven't slept in days." And he had not. "Meditation isn't working?"
"I tend to..." Thane struggled for words inwardly, but outward-appearances indicated he was as calm and collective as usual. "Slip into memories."
"Yeah... That drell thing." Shepard itched at his cheek absently. Humans were so expressive in their gestures. Most of them unconscious, but interesting to note nonetheless. "You know, that would have really been helpful back when I was a kid. It took me forever to memorize the Alliance Fleet song. Mom was always getting on my case. Remembered it. Forgot it."
"They did not resurrect you for your memory?" Same silky, calm, deep tones but a hint of a smile found Thane's lips. Shepard noticed and he laughed.
"Thane Krios! Are you making a joke?" He gave a playful jab to Thane's shoulder (that took every muscle in Thane's body to not react instinctively to with an elbow-shattering deflect). Instead he simply tensed, eyes following Shepard's fist, eyes darting to the man's face—noting the lack of hostility there—and then he forced his body to relax. His body absorbed the impact as though it had not happened. "In all seriousness, about Jack... I guess if it helps her bury that grudge and clear her head, then..." He shrugged slowly. "I don't care if the Illusive Man gets pissed off or not... I just don't know how I feel about planting a bomb on some random ass planet." Shepard's eyes drifted away in thought and Thane numbly wondered if he carried that same vacant expression. Shepard's eyes snapped back to life. "I still need to find a third person."
"I offer my services," Thane replied instantly. "I could use a distraction."
"All right. Sure. Just get some sleep then. We'll be there in..."
"Eleven hours," EDI offered.
"Eleven hours," Shepard said, gesturing mystically in the air towards EDI's voice.
Thane nodded. "Understood."
A/N: I plan on making this very angsty. I just enjoy writing such and Thane is such a good character for it. I'm also very fond of male!Shep/Thane... and it will eventually work its way there.
There will be a lot of "flashbacks". I find Thane's "former life" fascinating...