His eyes flutter open. His chest, his lungs are burning. Tiny pricks of fire is spreading through him. It's reaching down to his stomach, creeping further into his legs; curling up into his arms.
He knows what comes next. He can't stop it. He wants to keep his coughing quiet.
He doesn't want to wake her. She's been fighting so hard.
Soon he's on his knees on the floor, choking, spluttering, and gasping for air between the coughs that come on in crushing waves. He can't help but wonder if this is how it will be when he dies… Fear takes root in his heart. No, he knows it will be much worse.
The spreading fire still burnt him. He can't keep it quiet anymore.
"Thane…"
Her hands are on him, soft and soothing. A blessing against his raging body. She pulls him up from his crouching over. He is too weak to refuse her help. He lies against the bed, riding out the last of the fit.
As quickly as it comes, it goes away. The fire crackling through his body dies down and almost leaves his feeling empty and cold. He can breathe again. Every muscle, every rib aches. Shepard is holding on to him. She's shaking, afraid.
They both know this would have come eventually.
With his last bit of strength Thane reaches for her hand. He feels so weak. He feels weak for wishing that death would be granted to him soon. For her sake. But he can't stand the thought of leaving her; of her being alone.
Sleep overtakes him. For a while he has peace again.
In the back of his mind, he knows his peace will only be like a small drop in the ocean. The ripples of his illness have already started to expand and grow.
He does not know what his future will hold, or how rapidly he will descend into the dark of his sickness.
All he knows is that all time he has left is hers to take.