A/N: I own nothing except the laptop I wrote this story on.

We left Illium later that night, shortly after Thane gather what meager belongings he'd brought with him to complete this job, and after Joker confirmed with the rather ornery traffic tower that, yes, he was cleared for takeoff. But he'd better stop calling her "mission control." I don't know where Sis found the guy, but slowly and surely his cutting sense of humor is starting to win me over. Sis had managed to get a private and encrypted contact line for Liara. For "mission purposes." Right. And that time she needed me to pick her up late one night when we were teens – while she was hiding in a bush in her underwear – was because she'd "made a mistake." Sure. The only mistake made was not noticing that her soon-to-be ex had crazy eyes. I'd seen them the first time I'd laid eyes on her; it was a wonder that Sis missed them.

But I digress.

The two of us were sitting in the mess hall, and we could feel the magnetized locks disengaging and the Normandy beginning to drift in midair. I was cleaning the inside of one of my pistols, having taken off the casing and gently combing through the interior for dirt and other crap. I'd had a few misfires on Omega over the years that nearly blew my fingers off. I was lucky that it hadn't happened; now that I was capable of keeping my weapons up to speed, I wasn't about to keep tempting fate.

Sis is sitting next to me, her feet kicked up on the table. The glow of her omnitool illuminates her face with a pale blue color, and with her other hands she's typing away on the keyboard interface. There's a vacant smile on her face. She probably doesn't even realize that she's smiling. She is absolutely texting Liara right now. I can also hear the strains of a song comgin in through her earpiece. She's rocking her head gently to the beat, swaying from side to side. If I strain, I can hear the song too.

Oh, well I'm the type of guy who will never settle down

Where pretty girls are well you know that I'm around

I kiss 'em and I love 'em, 'cuz to me they're all the same

I hug 'em and I squeeze but they don't even know my name!

They call me the Wanderer, yeah the Wanderer.

I roam around around around around…

She glances over, and sees that I'm looking at her.

"What?" She asked. I chuckle.

"Interesting song choice, Sis. Pretty fitting for your current lot in life." She scowls, clearly thinking that I'm teasing her.

"That's rich coming from the guy who listens to 80s crap. Especially that fucking weird-ass song by David Bowie."

"It's by Midge Ure."

"What. Ever." Sis said, rolling her eyes. But there's a trace of a smile on her lips. She continues to silently mouth the words to the song that plays through her head, and she looks the happiest I've seen her in a while. I finish cleaning my gun, and place it back in my holster. I see that Sis isn't about to move any time soon, so I figure now is as good as any to leave her to her own devices. I hear her snicker to herself as I start walking away: Liara must have sent her something that made her smile.

I doubt that things are gonna go back to the way they were in the beginning, at least not right away, but at least when I screamed at Liara it looks like I was right: she was just playing the part. That doesn't take away the sting that Sis was no doubt feeling when they first saw each other again, but it's a start. I guess I can take that.

I'm too busy watching my Sis enjoying herself to notice that I've walked right into Miranda. Or, rather, she's the one that's walked into me. I'm about to apologize, but then I see she looks far too annoyed for someone who accidentally got bumped into. I clear my throat.

"Uh, do you need some hel-"

"My office. Now." She growls. Before I can say anything, she actually grabs my wrist and drags me off to her office like I'm some sort of badly-behaved kid. Jesus, she really is a mom.

…

We get into her office, and she lets go of my hand to stomp off to her desk. She finally whirls around, and crosses her arms over her chest while glaring at me.

"You are a complete bastard."

For once, I have no idea what I did to deserve that line.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. She just narrows her eyes.

"Maybe this will jog your memory." She clears her throat. "It ain't braggin' if you go out and do it."

…Oh god.

"I ain't what I used to be, but who the hell is?"

…She didn't.

"They x-rayed my head and found nothing."

That did it. I have to sit down as I start laughing. This does not help matters.

"Jay Hanna Dean was a baseball player!" Miranda snarls, as if I didn't already know that. "I thought you had discovered some obscure philosopher that I could read whenever I had some time off here on the Normandy, and instead you…you trick me into looking up some huckster farmboy from over two hundred years ago."

"That's not fair." I said. There's a silence. And then I speak again. "Dizzy Dean was one of the best pitchers of the 20th century, and certainly one of the funniest."

"UGH!" Miranda threw her arms up in the air. I can't help but laugh.

"Miranda, you are wound way too goddamn tight. You're gonna come apart at the seams at this rate. I mean, I didn't think you'd actually go through the trouble of looking up 'Jay Hanna Dean,' but I guess I said it because I knew you'd get worked up a bit if you didn't figure it out." I said. "Lighten up a little bit."

She sits down in her desk, her arms still crossed across her chest in a rather pouty manner.

"I don't have time to lighten up. This is a critical mission, perhaps the most critical in galactic history and certainly in human history, and the Illusive Man would not be pleased if we were spending our time 'lightening up' instead of doing work." She said, though it sounded so stuffy I had trouble taking her seriously.

"Yeah…about him." I said. "Let's talk about him." Suddenly, Miranda raised an eyebrow.

"That's a remarkably sudden segue there, John. What's with the sudden interest in my employer?" She said. I just shrug.

"Consider it professional curiosity. I want to know more about this guy." At this, she just laughs.

"More likely you're plotting for ways to kill him." She said. "I saw the look in your eye when he called you 'Jonathan.' That is the look of someone who wonders whether his opponent would look better with their throat removed."

"I did threaten to choke him to death, so good observation." I quip. Miranda rolls her eyes, with a faint smile.

"It's a fool's errand. The Illusive Man is exactly as his name would suggest. He's illusive, and elusive. It's almost impossible to get a read on anything about him, and don't think that I haven't tried. I'm his best agent, and even I don't know what he's thinking half of the time."

"He had to have started as something." I said. "There has to be a trail."

"I'm sure that there is, but anything that I look for turns into a dead end." She said. "I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm not going to figure him out any time soon, but that doesn't bother me. He's the best and brightest that humanity has. He's our best chance at stopping the Reapers."

I snort.

"How many people do you think he's had killed to cover his tracks?" I asked, with perhaps a little bit too much of a sneer. She shakes her head.

"I wouldn't imagine many. The Illusive Man is far more…delicate than that."

"So he's had other people kill those other people?"

"That's none of my concern." Miranda said.

"It will be when he decides that you've outlived your usefulness."

At this, there's a brief flash across Miranda's eyes. To someone who wasn't looking for it, they wouldn't have noticed it. But I caught it. A brief flash of fear, like the sudden realization of an incredibly unfortunate truth.

"I'm too important to him to be considered expendable." Miranda said finally.

"I thought Cobra Unit was untouchable before Torfan."

It's out of my lips before I can stop myself. At this, Miranda suddenly looked intrigued.

"Where did that come from?" She asked. I feel cold and annoyed. I get up to walk away, knowing that I'm about a second away from a meltdown or a shutdown. I reach for her door, and press the button to open it and get out.

It's locked. She's got remote controls from her terminal. Gotta say, I'm impressed: bitch is quick at typing.

"Oh no. You can't run away from any and every conversation that makes you feel uncomfortable." Miranda said. I glare at her, and she just looks somewhat proud of herself. Smug, really.

I silently reach for my iDroid.

"Don't bother. EDI and I had that thing ghosted the moment you arrived on the ship. There's no way you can hack it."

I still make a point of trying and failing to hack through the controls. Finally, I hear Miranda sigh.

"John, I'm not going to make you talk about Torfan. It's just that I feel that I've told you a bit about myself, more than most people care to ask, so I just wanted to know a little something about you. Don't you think that's fair?"

I'm silent. So she speaks again.

"I just want to know how you got onto the Cobra Unit. That was a pretty special group."

I stare at her. And I sigh.

"Make me a fucking drink, and we'll talk."

…

She picked this really fancy brandy that I totally should have expected her to choose, and yet was completely unprepared all the same. I take a sip, and then cough horribly.

"Jesus, that shit is strong." I manage to choke out.

"Well, John. That's the first thing that you should know about me." She looked awfully smug. "I only settle for the very best."

I just roll my eyes. She chuckles, and then shakes her head.

"You know, for the older brother, you are awfully childish. Your sister isn't wired like you."

"Only because she's better at hiding it." I shoot back, finally forcing down a sip of the stuff. "Believe you me, Sis has her quirks."

"Such as?" Miranda asked. I narrow my eyes.

"Turn off the recording devices."

"What recording devices?" Miranda was a terrible liar.

"The ones that you've got planted in this room. I found one in my room last night, which isn't that bad because all the Illusive Man would have gotten was Zaeed ranting about how Charles Dickens was a 'goddamned overrated writer' and that Melville is only good for putting you to sleep. But this involves my sister a little bit, and this involves me. So shut them off."

Miranda sighed, and then shrugged. She pressed a button next to her terminal, and I noticed that one of the lights in the ceiling goes out, like it had experienced a power shortage.

Clever.

"I wasn't in charge of placing bugs on the Normandy." Miranda said. "I only have recording in my room for record-keeping purposes."

"Right." I replied. "And Nixon taped his conversations in the Oval Office so he could better write his memoirs."

Miranda actually looked genuinely offended at that one.

"Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of shit?" She hissed. It might be a little bit of the alcohol, but I'm thoroughly enjoying riling her up. Also, her accent makes the way she said that pretty funny. Far too posh for such a dirty line.

"Well, it's either that or I call you a ratfucker."

She throws a crumpled up piece of paper at me. I laugh.

"I'd prefer you keep the obscenities to a minimum. Or at least don't be vulgarly creative, like Subject Zero."

At this, I frown.

"Her name's Jack."

"Somehow I doubt that." Miranda said. "I still think that that's a codename."

"Probably because the Cerberus scientists working on her stripped that piece of her identity away from her." I said. At this, Miranda looks somewhat defensive.

"If they did that, then that was an unacceptable breach of protocol, not to mention a travesty of ethics. A rogue cell like that does not comply with the overall mission of Cerberus."

"Keep talking, I don't have enough for the propaganda film." I said, pantomiming that I was using my iDroid as a camcorder. She looks annoyed.

"I'm being serious, John. Cerberus is dedicated to the advancement of human interests in the galaxy. We aren't the bad guys that everyone claims that we are."

"You know, I'd almost believe that if there weren't a troublingly high number of Cerberus cells that were either rogue, gone dark thanks to my sister shutting them down, or gone dark because they went poking their noses in the Lost Ark like the Nazis."

"…I'm afraid I don't get the reference." Miranda said somewhat helplessly. I snort.

"Jesus, you need to watch more movies."

"I don't have the time for movies."

At this, I burst into laughter.

"You don't have the time for movies?" I'm hitting that stage of drinking where everything out of my mouth is either what I'm feeling that moment or the brutal and honest truth. At this point, who the hell knows what I'm gonna say next.

"What is there to watch?" Miranda asked. "Most movies are blatant attempts at pandering to fanbases, cliché-riddled action films, shameless franchise cash cows or…disappointing rom-coms."

Wait a minute. She looked a little hesitant when she said that. Is that…disappointment in her eyes?

"You still looking for the perfect story that tugs at your heartstrings?" I asked. "The kind that sets your skin tingling and puts your heart aflutter, and leaves a warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach?"

"No." Miranda said.

Yes, said the brief look in her eyes. She then scowls.

"Wait a goddamn minute, we were supposed to be talking about you and the Cobra Unit. How the hell did we go off on this bloody tangent?"

"'Bloody?'" I asked. "Clearly you're hanging around Zaeed too much."

"Stop it!" Miranda said. "Or so help me I'll biotically crush your last pack of cigars."

"You don't know where I keep them."

"I'll find them."

Good lord, this is too easy. She's cracked like an egg, for someone that's supposedly the ice queen of Cerberus. Well, then again, I was always excellent at getting under peoples' skin, whether I was a member of the academy's training team or when I was with the Cobras.

…Aw, man.

"So I joined the Alliance right out of high school." I said. "Barely passed my entrance exam, to the point that the trainer recommended that I do the make-up the next month. With Sis encouraging me and helping me every step of the way, I didn't just ace it – I placed top of the class. Especially in the hand-to-hand portion."

"Is that where the job as a trainer for the academy came in?" Miranda asked. "Because you seemed awfully young for such a position."

"I was." I said. "But think of it as a part-time deal. While I was getting deployed to planets around the galaxy, that was my 'active duty.' Whenever I got leave, I'd just fly back in to the academy and use my 'shore leave' as an on-call instructor. I got a lot of people, mostly because there are a lot of wannabe badasses out there. Some of them flame out, especially when I'm giving them shit in addition to beating them up. Others, like Mutt Williams, roll with the punches and become iron-tough."

"When you were on duty, what were you doing?" She asked. She was leaning forward now, hands resting under her chin. I shrug.

"It depended. Sis was in officer school and training and then she got into the N7 program. So she often got to deal with things in the 'cleaner' sense of being in the sky or in naval battles. She had a few ground engagements, but it wasn't until Elysium that she showed the world that when the chips were down, you cannot kill my sister with conventional means."

Miranda smiled.

"Is it true?" She asked. "Did your sister really save the colony in nothing but her pajamas?"

"Gospel." I said. "She'd been planning for a lazy day with her significant other at the time, just watching movies and eating ice cream all day. And then at about 8 in the morning she gets woken up by the first shell strike, and didn't sit back down until around midnight, when the counter-strike happened. I was on the fleet that came in to relieve the colony. I swear on my father's grave…Sis was in a panda bear t-shirt and wearing red flannel pajama bottoms with those fluffy slippers that girls like. The sight of her dressed like that…coupled with the still-smoking assault rifle in her hands…I went from terrified that she'd been hurt to laughing hysterically. The major thought I'd gone section eight."

"She's pretty unbelievable." Miranda said. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I saw a hint of jealousy in her face. But then it was gone. "So. Cobras."

"Right. I'll stop giving you the run-around." I said. "So, for whatever reason I got promoted to sergeant major of my unit in the aftermath of Elysium, and then got recommended by my commanding officer to apply to be a 'mustang.' You know, a former non-commissioned officer that goes up to a commissioned officer?" She nodded, so I continued. "Well, the unit that they placed me in was the COmbat Battle Recon Assault Unit. Or the COBRA Unit. I was at the very bottom of the totem for the first year and a half. The leader was Major Kyle, and he wasn't really the guy to whip people into shape: he liked things prepared for him. Right below the Major was the Captain in charge of training the FNG. That was…her job." I trail off. Something wells up in my throat, and I feel that melancholy that signals the never-ending sadness to come. "…I should go."

I get up and walk out the door. I notice that it's not locked. I guess she's more considerate than I considered.

…

It's way later that night, and once again I find myself sitting in the mess hall. There's no one around, not even Mess Sergeant Gardner. Apparently we're headed to the Haestrom system to pick up one of Sis' many, many old friends. Most of mine are gone. And that conversation with Miranda just reminded me in a painfully bitter way.

Jack had come up recently. She's been a lot more conversational lately. Hard to believe it, but Kelly thinks that me withholding sleeping with her (despite the very luminescent blush it gave the Yeoman) gave Jack a reason to trust me a little bit more: I wasn't just in this to use her. She'd gotten her food, grumbling that everyone was a pussy for not bringing it down to her, and then she'd seen me sad-sacking around. She patted me on the shoulder.

"Don't feel down, Doc." She said. "Shepard plans to take the two of us into combat when we hit Haestrom. You'll be ready to fuck shit up, right?"

I half-mumble in the affirmative, and she leaves with a satisfied little smile on her face. I stare at the coffee that's sitting in front of me. I'd like another drink, but I don't feel like getting knocked out yet. That might come later, though, if I keep thinking about all of the shit that bubbled up from my subconscious. Miranda really did mean well, but goddamn did that hurt.

I become aware of a presence right next to me, standing up by my shoulder.

"I apologize, John. I didn't realize that you were up as well. I would have come over sooner."

I look up. It's Thane. He's holding a cup of something. It doesn't smell like coffee.

"You don't have to." I muttered. Thane tilted his head to the side.

"As you wish." He turns around.

"Wait." I said. "I didn't actually mean that. I just…ugh…" I bury my face in my hands, rubbing my forehead like I'm trying to massage a headache. "It's been a really trying night. And I didn't mean to piss you off, Thane."

"I am unfamiliar with that phrase." Thane said, taking a seat across the table from me. "My translator glitched a bit. But I understand if you're having a dark night." He looked melancholy, as he stared at the drink he was cupping in his hands. "I have those every now and then, too."

"About killing people?" I ask. Thane is silent for a moment. And then he speaks.

"Among other things." He said. He then raised an eyebrow. "Are you familiar with the nature of Drell?"

"I've met a few." I said. "Never for very long. They weren't nearly as…refined as you are." Thane gives a small, sad smile.

"When my people were pulled into the stars by the Hanar years ago, a large sum of us recognized the golden opportunity that this gave us to rectify the mistakes we'd made as a population. And yet…" He sighed. "There is still a rather sizeable amount that don't really recognize the gift we were given."

He's pretty poetic, I'll give him that. I gesture to the drink.

"What's with the tea?" I asked. He looked at it, and then back up at me.

"Oh. I suppose I might as well let you in on what I told your sister during the briefing." He said. He sighed. "I have Keprel's Syndrome. It's a respiratory illness that affects Drell. Think of it as the Drell equivalent to how pervasive cancer is to your species. The difference here is that there is no treatment." He sighed. "Tea is good for airing out my lungs. It doesn't do much, but it does keep the coughing at bay."

"How long do you have?" I asked.

"I was supposed to have three months to live when I received the final diagnosis." He gave a small smirk. "That was six months ago."

I just blink at him.

"Holy shit. You really are unkillable." I said. Thane chuckles.

"I do not share the same optimism as you, John. But I appreciate the hyperbole." He sighs, and takes a sip of his tea. I just stare at the man.

"How are you so calm in the wake of this?" I asked. Thane shrugged.

"There is no point in despairing over the inevitable. My body will eventually expire, but when that moment comes I will rest knowing that my soul shall cross the sea."

"I have to admit, you lost me there." I said. Thane smiled.

"I apologize. I forget that not every species is familiar with Drell religious beliefs. We hold that our body and our 'self' are two separate entities. When we are 'whole,' that is when things are balanced and our lives are good. When either of the two is in disarray from the other, then it is upon us to correct and restore the balance."

"Sort of like Buddhism." I said. Thane nodded.

"That is a somewhat fitting comparison. The difference is that while your Buddha never proclaimed to be a deity and only very fringe groups would suggest otherwise, in our religion we have several gods. Closer to a mix of Hinduism and Buddhism, if you can follow."

"Yeah." I said.

"There are many, many gods and goddesses, but there are three in particular that most know about. There is Amonkira, Lord of Hunters. There is Arashu, the Goddess of Motherhood and Protection." Thane then spoke slightly more reverently. "And then there is Lady Kalahira, Goddess of Oceans and Afterlife. In time, I will see her soon."

"What's the deal with the Ocean?" I asked.

"It is an evolution of Drell life, I suppose." Thane said. "A metaphor for our existence, both prior to and after the Hanar intervention." He took a deep breath. "Our former homeworld was Rakhana, an arid and dry land filled with deserts. We warred over many things and many natural resources, but the most precious of them all was water. Water was worth its weight in all the finest jewels you could imagine, and what little bodies of water Rakhana possessed were protected with a near-religious zeal. To desecrate or drain a great body was tantamount to blasphemy…though that did not stop some of the more industrially-driven governments." He shook his head. "And now we have a sort of irony: all our lives we have attached a spiritual connotation to water and its scarcity, and the creatures that should save us turn out to be from a planet that is almost entirely covered in water. Coincidence might be a scientist's word for chance, but there is something remarkably profound about the timing and situation that we found ourselves in before and after our rescue."

I have nothing to say. Nothing to snark, nothing to quip back at him. For once in my life, I find myself somewhat impressed by what I'm hearing.

"I've always liked water." I admitted. "Sis hated swimming and would threaten me with bodily harm should I ever push her into a lake or a river, but I was never bothered by it."

"Kalahira would be very pleased to hear you say that." Thane said with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, well I dunno if Kalahira would take kindly to a dirty human singing her praises. Or Amonkira or Arashu, for that matter."

"I think that they would be flattered." Thane said with a chuckle. "But I suppose that that's none of my business."

He then takes a rather obnoxiously drawn out sip of tea. I have the sneaking suspicion that he's having fun at my expense, but right now I'm too tired to care. I sigh instead.

"I wish I was whole."

I say it before I realize. Thane pauses mid-sip, and then sets the cup back down.

"What makes you say that? Do you not believe that you are whole?"

"I don't believe it. I know it." I said. I know part of this is the result of drinking too much, but it's still coming out. I reach into my pocket for a cigar, and have it half lit when I look at Thane. "Shit, I forgot-"

"It is quite alright." Thane said. "Keprel's Syndrome is the result of being around too humid of an environment for too long. Smoking isn't going to bother me. And at this stage in my life, it does not matter." He then looked serious again. "Do you wish to talk about it?" He then sighed. "Though I must confess, I am not the best at working out personal issues. It is as much a struggle for me as it is for the next person."

"Thanks for the honesty." I said. "But if you can't talk to me, who can? Kelly is too flustered to be around me ever since I had that drink with her, and Miranda is the next best thing to a shrink on the ship. And I do not have the patience for that."

Thane looked pensive for a moment.

"Perhaps it is not a therapist you need to see right at this moment. Or, at least a traditional one."

I frown.

"Where are you going with this, Thane?"

The Drell smiled slightly.

"I am sure that, after we reach Haestrom, Samara would be happly to help you."

"She barely knows me." I said. Thane chuckled.

"Samara is an Asari Justicar, trained for centuries in the act of deductive reasoning, and is also blessed with a phenomenal trait at figuring out the nature of people around her." He said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she knows everything about you down to your favorite ice cream."

We both chuckle a little bit, but it rings hollow in my chest. He's wrong.

Samara doesn't know anything about me. She can't help.

But then, deep within me coming from a place that I didn't know existed before, I can almost hear a little whispering in my ear.

Not until you let her, bud.

A/N: Someone in the comments mentioned that Samara and Thane might be John's "Garrus and Tali" over time. I have had major plans for the three of them for a while now, so it's rather amusing to see someone guess it right. There was also another review that postulated about a plot point that has not been touched in this story yet.

As always, stay tuned…

Also, be sure to check out the poll I have on my profile! Vote if you can.