"Daddy, daddy! Look, look what I found!"
It was the first time Kolyat had seen the ocean. At first, he moved tentatively to those sighing waves. He was curious, hand clutched insistently around his fingers, hands so very small in his.
Kolyat moved forward, bare feet sliding clumisly across the soft white sand. One toe touched the water, then his entire foot. Those big black eyes had turned up to him, wonderment, joy. Then he was splashing along those gentle lapping waves, gleeful giggles erupting from his tiny lungs.
And then he had found his first sea pebble, smoothed and caressed by the gentle waves. Beautiful colors-pink and orange, blue, violet, green, black, white... There were thousands in the sand and Kolyat was on the brave mission of bringing every single pretty pebble to his father. Smiling, Thane held his hands together, allowing his son to press each precious piece into his palms.
His hands weren't big enough for the world Kolyat was showing him.
It took him a long time to finally gather himself from the floor. In a sick way it was providing him with enough foundation to keep him from falling apart at the seams. Just feeling the cool, hard, unforgiving surface reminded him exactly what his life was. He was born to endure, conditioned to sustain. He was built to carry the weight of the world.
And now, he had a mission. One last mission. One last contract to fulfill. He had every intention of completing it. He was just ashamed his mind was so preoccupied with the past he couldn't see the future. Perhaps it was not entirely his fault. Not even the best teacher could tame the memory of a drell.
His time was short. But it was time enough to make the galaxy all the brighter. If not for himself, then for Kolyat. Kolyat was somewhere out there. And he needed a world absent of collectors and reapers, bandits and thugs. Thane had made a dent with his time so far, but with Shepard... He could achieve so much more. He could help shape a galaxy where Kolyat would have the chance to love and be loved. Enough time to leave no stone untouched.
Thane drew in several long, deep breaths as he sat on the floor, legs crossed, hands pressed together in prayer. Although his posture was picture perfect... For the first time in his life—Thane found himself at a loss of words. Never had he been unable to articulate his thoughts and ask for forgiveness or clarity. Or find himself unable to recite a single prayer.
Disturbed, he picked himself up from the floor and stared blankly into the drive core. "EDI?" he asked quietly. Shepard deserved an apology. Until that was achieved, he would be unable to think of anything else but that embarrassment that now haunted his conscious thoughts.
"Yes, Sere Krios?" the AI chimed gently.
"Where is Commander Shepard?"
"He is currently speaking to Mr. Moreau on the bridge. Shall I inform him that you request his presence?"
Thane mused quietly for a moment. "Yes. Please."
A pause. "Commander Shepard is on his way."
He did not move from where he had stood. Hands clasped behind his back, face shifted towards the drive core, looking and feeling much like a statue. The colors from the drive core danced across his vision. He often pretended it was the ocean back on Kahje. So unpredictably beautiful and energetic. He wanted to reach his hand out in the seemingly liquid blue, let his fingers run through its purity and be cleansed. His mind teetered on the edge of memories.
The door chimed and Shepard entered. The memories fizzled to nothing. Shepard was cautious. Not moving with the same lightness as usual. He seemed timid, nervous. As though he was intruding, despite the fact he had been invited.
"Hey, Thane... Feeling better?" Shepard asked awkwardly.
"Yes." Thane's face shifted towards the man, but his eyes could not leave those dancing blue streams of energy. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I have been unprofessional. It will no longer be a problem."
"Uh-huh." Thane finally looked to the man. Shepard looked unconvinced. Crossed arms, weight shifted to one leg, one eyebrow raised, a slight smirk—unintended for mockery, but more blatant disbelief. "Do you drink?" Thane started to answer but Shepard cut him off. "Doesn't matter, you do now. We're making a short stop in Illium tonight to resupply. I told the crew we get a few hours of shore-leave. You, me, Garrus and anyone else we get our hands on are going to the bar." Thane moved to object again, but once more, Shepard cut him off. "And that's an order." He nodded smugly, turned and sauntered out with a finalized wave over his shoulder.
Thane was left staring, lips parted, brow-ridge furrowed. Once again, speechless and at the mercy of his swirling thoughts.
He was not accustomed with the sound of booming music, hooting and hollering, bodies twisting and shoving, pushing together and grinding. The smell of alcohol nearly suffocating and wafting from every mouth. Sweat pooling down withering bodies, hands grasping and touching, finding comfort in the arms and lips of perfect strangers. There were too many people, not enough exits. Anyone could be an assassin in disguise, ready to plunge a knife into him—or his companions. His eyes couldn't move fast enough to follow all the chaotic movements. The vibrations of disembodied voices and music pounded together so loudly his head was beginning to ache. He wanted to leave. But by direct orders, he was to stay.
He sat stiffly at their booth, back strategically to the wall, eyes locking every suspicious face into memory. Damn near everyone on the crew had taken advantage of the shore-leave. Thane wasn't much of a jealous person, but he currently envied Samara, Mordin and Miranda who were all absent and no doubt finding more productive things to do with their free time.
For the first time, Thane found the voices of his crew and squadmates to be overbearingly annoying. Accents, dialects and languages were lost in the translators as more alcohol fumbled words beyond recognition. Even technology had its limits.
"Krios!" Garrus was trying to yell over the sound of the club and Thane was doing his very best to pretend like he couldn't hear him. "Take a god damn drink! We're here for you!" He pointed enthusiastically to the drell's untouched beverage. "I promise, it's not poisoned!"
"Garrus is right!" Shepard said. Thane's gaze narrowed and shifted to his commander. "Don't give me that look. Drink it. It's an order."
Thane thought of disobeying. Or coming up with an excuse-his medication wasn't compatible with alcohol. For some reason, he had the feeling Shepard had already combed Dr. Chakwas for such facts and would call him out. He did not want to be marked as a compulsive liar.
Holding back a sigh, Thane took the glass. It was sweating, cold to touch and wetted his finger tips uncomfortably. It tasted sweet, but had a bite. He squeezed his eyes against the assaulting taste. It burned and left his tongue tingling.
Despite Garrus' proclamation, alcohol was, indeed, a poison. Fun fact.
"All of it, Krios!" Shepard demanded. Again Thane gave a dark calculating glare that only made Shepard grin wider. Already on his fourth drink, the smoldering scowl of a certain assassin could only bring boyish giggle of defiance from his lips. Thane finished his drink and Shepard gave him a hard pat on the back. "Atta boy, we'll getchu another round." Thane attempted protest, but, apparently, his protests fell on deaf ears. Abuse of power, anyone?
One drink turned to two, then three-it got easier to stomach the more he drank-four, five and six. Now on seven, the world was beginning to swirl and sway dreamily. His senses felt choked, but at the same time his body warmed to the chaos it was introduced to. The faces of his companions were contorted with laughter and smiles. He blinked blearily at them, trying to recall a time in which their expressions were all so animated. Was this what it was like to drown away worries? Let's forget about the pain of yesterday and the horrors of tomorrow. Just drink and drink and we'll laugh and laugh and for now everything will seem okay.
Had he ever been drunk? No. Had a few drinks, sure. Felt the warm buzz of alcohol, the flush of blood pulsating under his scales, the pleasant numbness on his lips... But never had the world felt so... surreal.
"So, Thane." Shepard elbowed his way closer, practically yelling into Thane's ear. The vibrations of his voice were low, pleasantly deep, drawn out syllables that distracted from the question asked.
Thane blinked slowly. "...What?" He was, genuinely confused. Unable to even recollect the words that had been spoken. Since when did he find Shepard's voice pattern, pitch and tone so mesmerizing? Maybe that was why the Illusive Man had resurrected him. He had a nice voice. It demanded attention. Thane swayed slightly where he stood, trying very hard to focus. Shepard had blue eyes. Electric. Fierce, but so very gentle. How was that possible?
Shepard laughed. "What is right! You feel better?"
Thane splayed his fingers slowly on the table before him. He acknowledged how the surface was slippery and untextured. Unremarkable. No, he wanted to say. Nothing has changed. The memories are still there, just currently drowning in a sea of alcohol and tonic. Tomorrow everyone will remember what we face and what is at stake. When we are sober, we will resume being crushed by the weight of our uncertain tomorrow. But, thank you. Because for a moment, the pain is dulled.
Instead, his face hit the table and he surrendered to that sea of alcohol and tonic.
A/N: I am so very sorry this took so long to post (and that it's so short, I'm actually embarrassed /weeps) and that it is kinda random ass chapter. I have been so ungodly busy between summer classes and work.
I don't think Thane would be good at drinking...
As always, thank you for reading and reviewing.