Disclaimers: I own nothing of either Mass Effect or Dragon Age. And I'm not making any money off of this ;)

He was dying.

The realization of this filled him with frantic, almost primitive panic. It brought adrenaline coursing through his veins like debris in a flash flood, leaving sharp awareness and exposed nerves in its wake. There was no defense against it, no rallying of thought or rationality.

He. Was. Dying.

He struggled, trying to move before he'd even processed a reason to do so. Fight or flight - but he wasn't allowed to do either. It was as if his limbs were weighed down by sand, held motionless and unresponsive. The immobility was suffocating, oppressive, maddening.

Even more so since he couldn't breathe. Each attempt brought flares of sharp pain through his chest. Like trying to pull silk through broken glass, everything that should have flowed, caught and shredded. He worked his jaw, the intubation tube that was forced down his throat pressing against the sides, pushing, bloating, bruising.

"I can't believe Dr. Monroe said that to Vanessa!"

"Well, it'd been such a long shift. And she was out of line."

The voices were not far away. In the hallway, at the most. He tried to open his eyes and failed - the darkness behind his lids flared with red for his efforts, but did not go away. Marshalling his will to try again, he held his breath to focus.

He had to get their attention. Even if the nurses couldn't stop the pain, even if they couldn't help, they would try. They had to try.

A thin crescent of light in his vision – the white of the hospital ceiling above him, and then…

The breathing machine beside him hissed and forced air into lungs that could no longer process it.

Pain whited out the darkness.

Oh, he hadn't known it would hurt like this. Amonkira, be merciful…

"Are you done checking on Keprals?"

"Yeah, he's all set for the night. Circling the drain, but unconscious. Come on. Let's head to the cafeteria. I'm starving." The voices began to fade, the nurses walking away.

No. No, please.

…Siha.

Oh, Siha… please, come. Please help me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He was dying, trapped and immobile, blind and in horrific pain.

And he now was alone.

"But that's not true!" a tenor voice protested, clear and close by his ear. "It's not like that at all. Here, look!"

Light bloomed across his field of vision, banishing the darkness to the corners of his hospital room. Thane found himself, eyes open, blinking in confusion. He instinctively drew in a breath, trying to steady his thoughts, rein back the fear now that there was light. Now that he could see.

Agony was his reward, knotting his stomach and curling him inward. He barely felt the pressure of hand falling to his shoulder.

"Stop that!"

The words were said sharply, an admonition with accented vowels. Human. Thane raised his chin to see a young man standing over him. The boy had extended one pale hand to rest on his shoulder while he glared at someone or something across the room. There were other details, like the way the boy's face was shadowed by a large hat and the presence of bladed weapons sheathed at his back but…these facts ran through Thane's mind like water through fingers. He couldn't hold onto them.

Instead he focused on the moment. He should try to look. To see who the boy was glaring at. Before he force himself to do this though, the pain stopped.

Completely and totally.

The sudden absence of the sensation which had been dominating his entire world made him sit bolt upright, shuddering at the void left by the reversal.

Immediately the young man snatched his hand away, "I'm sorry! I could have done it slower but I thought this was better. Like ripping off a bandage, though… you aren't supposed to do that, really…"

"Did we notify his next of kin?" the voice carried in clearly from the hallway. Thane gripped the bed with his fingers as he turned his head to look, still prepared for movement to hurt.

"Yeah, ages ago. Apparently, he said that he didn't care, his father deserved everything that was coming to him and for us to stop calling."

Rose and Threnody, the two nurses who most often handled this ward on the night shift. The glass walls allowed him to see them easily enough and the open doorway allowed their words to travel, dig in hooks, and then pull tight.

He'd always known that he'd hurt his son. He simply hadn't been there. Not after Irikah was murdered, and to a degree not even before then. And, he'd accepted that failing. He had understood that his separation from Kolyat was entirely his fault, and took the loss as penance.

But, for some reason he thought that….he'd thought that it was different now. Thought that his son had been safe … that they'd talked … that it was… better between them. To hear that Kolyat had refused to come…

"It's a lie," the young man at his side spoke again. Pale blue eyes looked at Thane earnestly. "They are lying. This isn't what's really happening to you. They just picked up on the pain, pulled it close so they could taste it, and then blew on the embers. None of this is real."

"None of it except for you?" Thane asked, eyes narrowing to study the young man. His shoulders were too broad for how thin he was, and he was pale. Not enough food as a child, and still spending more nights than not going hungry even now. Little sunlight, too. Duct-rat? Perhaps a child he'd known, like Mouse, now older? But he knew the faces of all the children he'd employed and protected. This was young man was not one of them. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm Cole," the man said promptly. "And you are Thane Krios. You are in your hospital bed. You were hurt saving someone's life. You didn't want them here, or you thought you didn't, but you really did. Very much so. And, so they are here. They are standing close. He is trying to hold on to the words that comfort him. He's sad, but he is also happy that he got to be with you. She is trying not to cry. He told her what your prayer meant. It doesn't make her feel better yet and…it's not working. She is already crying."

It was like puzzle pieces sliding into place, memories that Thane hadn't even realized were missing returning to him. The attack by Cerberus, the assassin after the Salarian councilor. That final sword thrust that he hadn't been able to dodge…

And between one blink and the next, they were there, just as Cole had said they were.

Kolyat. Standing by the bed, outlined in light from the window.

And Shepard, expression resolutely impassive but eyes haunted, hands curled into fists.

They were both silent. Both stilled but not lifeless.

"See?" Cole was suddenly, inexplicably, standing next to Kolyat as he gestured. "I heard you screaming and I came. You need to know that you weren't alone. You aren't."

"But," Thane said, eyes still on Shepard's face, on the tears spilling down her cheek, "I am dying."

"Yes," the agreement was matter-of-fact. "And afraid. Even though you think you shouldn't be. It's okay to be afraid, you know. It doesn't make you a coward. And, they love you. You won't hurt them with that. You couldn't now even if you tried."

No one was supposed to know that. Supposed to know how he'd subtly, gently encouraged Shepard to distance herself from him, to focus on the Reapers and her duties, and leave him behind so she wouldn't have to be a witness to any of this. It was the least he could do to try and spare her pain.

Kolyat had been different, however. Thane had effectively abandoned his child when he'd needed him most, and he could not bear to do that again. Instead, he settled for making sure that nothing he did, nothing he was going through, would upset his son. He hid is pain as much as possible, and buried his fears beneath a calming mask of reassurance. Again and again he promised Kolyat that he was fine.

It was alright.

He wasn't afraid.

He was ready.

He had no regrets.

…most of the time it was even true.

"I see why you love her. Why she loves you," Cole remarked, "You both want to protect those you care that. But it doesn't work like that. You can't make people not care to try and keep them safe. People aren't safe. Not like that. They aren't meant to be."

"It isn't quite that simple.…" Thane began, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He placed his feet on the floor, testing his steadiness before standing.

"It's just plain selfish," one of the nurses said abruptly, voice edged. Thane looked at her, surprised, and found hungry eyes, restless and all too bright, looking right back at him.

"Now she'll only remember this, remember you lying flat and helpless, useless and spent, on a hospital bed," the nurse continued, and the words slithering beneath his skin to burrow and squirm, "Weak. Pathetic. Not what you want her to think of when she thinks of you."

"You aren't a mage," Cole said quietly, "But you still glow. Blue and smooth, tamed but not, force without connection. They were curious. It made them want you. But don't worry. They can't come in."

"Why?"

"Because you'd have to invite them," Cole said, as if this should be obvious, "Though, I really don't think you should do that. No. Don't do that. I might not be able protect you from them, then. I'm only a bit here, the rest of me is sleeping. And, they are strong. Despair is always strong."

Despair. The boy, odd in both presence and appearance, guarding him. Thane catalogued these things, as well as the few implications he could draw from them. He nodded, eyes lingering on the threat lurking in the hallway. "Thank you, though that isn't what I meant." He raised a hand to gesture, "Why are you helping me?"

"Oh!" Cole perked up, "Because Shepard is my friend. Or she will be. Time is… odd in the Fade. Odder with you and her. If she's my friend and she loves you, then that makes you a friend, too, doesn't it? And, besides," his voice lost any tentativeness and became strong, certain, "you were hurting. I could help. That's what I do."

"The Fade," Thane repeated, turning the name over in his mouth. "The place for fading moments between life and death, I take it?"

"Yes! Or, rather, no. Not really. Kind of?" the young man seemed flustered and he shifted nervously, "You are unconscious. Dreaming. Don't worry though, it's just for a moment. Soon you'll see the sea and the other side of it. They won't be able to reach you there. You'll be safe."

Ah. That explained it. This was a dream. That meant that Kolyat and Shepard were only here as a part of his memory.

And his memory would, very shortly, cease functioning.

Thane stood, legs strong, head clear. There was no dizziness, no muddle about the edges of vision. All of the ways his body had betrayed him in the last few months seemed to have been undone.

It only took a step to bring him to Shepard. She was right there, rendered with all of attention to detail that his eidetic memory could give her. The light from the window made the tears on her cheeks shine. He reached out, fingertips ghosting along warm skin to trace them, before finally settling along the curve of her jawline.

Her teeth were gritted.

So careful with what she could show, and to whom. Even now.

"If all else whispers back into the tide, know this for fact…" Cole's voice was a reverent murmur, his accent all but absent as he mimicked Thane's intonation and cadence.

That was right. Shepherd knew. She knew that he loved her.

He'd made certain of it.

Thane lowered his hands, encircling those clenched fists gently. "Just remember, you are a fierce protector, Siha. But some things are out of even your control. Don't regret. Live. Find joy."

But she wasn't real. He had to remind himself that. For some reason it was …difficult. His brow furrowed and he looked over his shoulder to his son.

There were some things he'd told Kolyat, and some that he hadn't dared to. There were sentiments, liberties that he hadn't deserved. But, here and now, did it really matter if he took them? "I am… so proud of the man you've become," Thane started, almost hesitantly, "And I am so sorry…"

"It's your fault! She's dead because of you!"

The accusation, delivered in Kolyat's voice as a boy, whispered through the room. Thane remembered the look on his son's face when he'd said it. Remembered how shattered he'd been to realize Kolyat was absolutely right.

"He doesn't blame you anymore," Cole said from where he sat criss-cross on the bed. "He knows tha-"

Cole's jaw snapped shut mid-word and he scrambled to his feet, standing on the bed. His eyes fixed, filled with alarm, on the dark hallway.

Thane followed his gaze, hand dropping to the grip of his pistol in caution.

Beyond the glass walls, there was only darkness.

Emptiness.

Both nurses had retreated, one to each end of the hall. They lingered there, barely in sight. What he could make out of their forms were no longer as defined as it had been. There was blurring, the suggestion of misshapen and distorted features and limbs. No matter what they looked like now, though, expectation and anticipation radiated from them both like heat.

"Oh, no. No, no!" Cole twisted his hands together, backing up to the edge of the bed.

"Cole. What's wrong?"

"He's trying to rip it. He wants to bring them through. And they... they want to go!" the words tumbled from his mouth in a torrent.

And just as the last syllable left his lips, the hallway exploded into white light.

Thane instinctively shielded his eyes with one hand and drew his pistol with the other. A dull rushing sound thrummed and then pulsed out into the room. He felt it through the ground and in his bones as it passed through like a shock wave.

He reached out to pull Cole down, to bring him into some form of cover behind the bed. Thane's fingers tightened on nothing. He looked sharply and found Cole was already right beside him, shrinking back against the window.

And in the hallway, right through the door... the air was ripped in two, bleeding out light.

"Wait, he's there? Right there? I-I need to go, wake them up, warn them!" Cole straightened, fear transforming into urgency that overflowed in his voice.

And then he simply disappeared.

Thane had no time to linger on the apparent desertion. The nurses reacted almost immediately.

With unnatural howls, they rushed forward to the tear, the breach. They weren't bothering with their faces or forms anymore. Arms were placed backwards in their joints, faces were pale as porcelain, dripping with color and…. glee.

Vicious, victorious, glee.

The first bullet that Thane sent through the hallway glass shattered it, and then tumbled slightly off-course as its trajectory was altered. As a result it only winged the creature beyond. The next three that Thane fired were true, and each one hit center mass on that first of the nurses.

It reeled, falling back as black blood gushed. Turning to Thane in fury, it surged for the doorway. It's skin bubbled as it did so, expanding as its form grew outward.

Yes, Thane had gotten it's attention.

The other creature, however, hadn't hesitated in the slightest. In the scant second it took for Thane to get a bead on it, it was already flinging itself into the breach.

There was a flare of light, and it disappeared.

Immediately Thane's aim snapped back to the first creature just as it charged through the door. The pistol clacked three times in quick succession, as Thane leapt forward to place himself between the enemy and the memory of those he loved. The creature wailed, drunkenly twisting in on itself as it stopped its forward motion, receding slightly like the tide.

Thane placed a final bullet in its head.

It collapsed, melting in on itself.

Silence. For a moment, there was only the rush and whorl of the gash in space chewing up air and spitting out power.

Then unearthly cries from at least a dozen twisted throats echoed through the hallways.

Between one breath and the next, the hallway was filled with distorted forms. Rushing, clamoring, fighting, every one of them struggling to reach the breach and fling themselves in it.

Thane braced himself, prepared for the onslaught to head his way if it came to that. He had a limited amount of ammo, but he suspected his biotics would work just as well.

Patience.

Wait.

Not a single one of the creatures tried to cross the threshold into his room.

Whatever, whoever, was on the other side of that breach was apparently more vulnerable, more enticing prey than he was.

...People.

People that Cole had mentioned were sleeping.

Even as Cole, or part of him anyway, was apparently sleeping.

Despair is strong. Despair is always strong.

And by Thane's guess, at least twelve of those things had already gotten through.

He curled the fingers of his free hand into his palm and biotic energy flared. Bright and electric, it sent it's own vibration of power out into the room.

And as one, the twisted forms stopped in their tracks and turned to look at him. Blue light reflected in at least six pairs of gleaming eyes...

Thane smiled very faintly.

Then he moved.

Lunging forward, he crashed his way into the hoard. They swarmed over him, clawing, gnashing. Like rabid beasts, they lacked coordination or strategy, they just attacked and overwhelmed.

As a result, for a few moments, he was able to hold his ground. He dodged, quicksilver and precision, landing kicks and punches where, on a humanoid, they would do the most good.

But then claws caught his coat. They only sliced leather, but the pull threw off Thane's balance. Another strike connected, this one along his forearm, and blood flowed. Thane's eyes snapped from the tear in space, only a few yards away, to the hall doorway.

... He was finally beyond the glass walls.

The drell's guard dropped.

The creatures threw themselves forward to take advantage of the opening.

Then Thane's free hand, sheathed in blue, swept out in a broad gesture. Biotic energy exploded and sent the twisted creatures tumbling back, violently.

Thane didn't wait to see what damage was actually done. He pivoted and, his path now clear, dove into the breach and whatever awaited him on the other side.

Author's Notes: So this has been in my head since the day I finished chapter 2 of "In Her Dreams". I put it aside because I honestly wasn't sure how to follow through on it. I'm still not. I don't know if I can continue this particular story line when it's been so long since I've tried to get into Thane's headspace. Not sure I can do him justice again without replaying ME2 :P That said, a beautifully amazing story by Unseen Daydream called "Do Not Go Softly" (on A03) was so well done it inspired me to take this shot. I promise I'll try to continue this if the interest is there - but I can't promise I'll succeed. Let me know what you think?