I was sulking. Really sulking. And Shepard wasn't listening to me. "Kaidan doesn't even like me, Shep. Why the hell would he want me to visit him?" I whined, pouting my lip as she tried to bundle me into the elevator en route to the hospital. "The last time you brought me to see him, I ended up drinking all of his brandy and he was pissed." I folded my arms, refusing to take another step.
"It didn't help you kept poking him in the chin and calling him 'Buttchin'," Shepard retorted, her grey eyes full of mirth. She was enjoying this, knowing I hated hospitals and me and Kaiden always ended up arguing. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy 'n'all, but he annoyed the hell out of me when he got all bossy; hence the need for the brandy.
"He does have a buttchin, and he was mean to me. It wasn't my fault I hurt his sore ribs." It had been really, I'd gotten frustrated at his cheating at the made up game Skillion Five, convinced he'd been making up the rules, so I kind of . . . punched him.
Shepard let out a long, weary sigh. "There's someone else I want you to meet." She jerked me inside the elevator while I was distracted trying to place his name. Jabbing her finger on the button, she looked at me. "He's a drell, someone I think can help. I wanted you to meet him before we go to Tuchanka."
"Why?" I asked, leaning my shoulder on the wall. I quirked my brow a little. I didn't understand her insistence on meeting this person, or the odd looks she'd been giving me over the past few weeks. "What's going on, Shepard?" I asked, keeping my voice soft. I knew she'd tell me, sooner or later, it was just a case of waiting until she thought it was the right time. Judging by the fact she hacked the elevator and turned to face me, now was that time.
"I found your data pads, Amiee. I know you've been losing your memories." She gave me a sad, pained look. "I know this is a game, and you're hooked into some device, but I'm worried something's gone wrong with it. I read them. Who's Kye, Amiee?"
"Kye's . . .." I froze for a second, pain slicing through my head. Struggling to focus, I blinked, tears falling from my eyes. "I . . . don't . . . He's . . .." My world rocked and I met her eyes, trying to force myself to remember. I couldn't. "Who is he, Shepard?" My voice trembled, a deep sense of loss echoing through me. Something was missing, some part of me I hadn't even known was gone. "Who is he?"
"He's your son, Amiee." She stared at me, her face falling. "I hoped his name . . .. It's okay, don't worry. We're going to figure something out, alright. We'll find a way for you to remember him." She said the words in a whisper, soft and gentle. I knew she believed them, but something told me it was impossible. If I could forget my son, how can a doctor bring that back?
What kind of person forgets their son? I . . . I don't even know his name. I thought about Garrot. I remembered him, the vorcha boy I'd practically adopted and another tear fell. He was gone now, heading out to burning planets, helping the recovery efforts. Had I replaced Kye with him? What kind of person am I? Shepard's arms came around me, holding me as I broke down. I couldn't stop the tears from falling, it was as if I had this hollowness inside me, and my body was trying to fill it with tears . . .. The hollow wouldn't fill, it stayed within me - a black hole in my chest.
Shepard rocked me, and I distantly realized we were on the floor and I was curled in her lap like a helpless child. Her hand wove through my hair, soothing me, trying to stem the flood of tears. "How can I forget, Shepard?" I asked, the fight going out of me in a rush of salty tears. "I . . . the data pads, I just find them on the bed, or James does. He's never read them, he said it wasn't right to. Did you read them all?" Shepard nodded, her cheek on my forehead. "What do they say? Why can't I bring myself to ever read them?" More questions hovered on my tongue, but I bit them down.
She brushed a tear off my cheek. "I'm no expert, but after speaking with EDI, I think the AI of the game is struggling with your memories. It's banks may be getting full the longer you're here, so it's saving them the only way it knows how. It's making you write them, then wiping them from your mind. You can't remember writing them, and the AI forces you not to want to read them because the memories will fill up more space." She continued stroking my hair as I digested this information. Once I'd calmed enough to stop the shaking, she helped me to my feet. "We'll fix this, Amiee."
I tried to feel confident and failed miserably. "Who is this person you want me to meet?" I asked with a sniffle as she set the elevator on course once more. I wiped my eyes, tying my hair back. Shepard had made me cut it after one of our sparring matches when she'd grabbed the waist-length braid and nearly snapped my neck. It fell to my chin now, flared out in a pixie ish way.
"His name is Thane Krios. He's a drell like I said. Drell understand memories and how they work. They have something called eidetic memory, meaning they never forget something they've experienced, seen or heard. They can go back into the memory and relive it. I'm hoping that he can help you keep yours. He used to meditate, coping mechanisms for the memories and things. I think between him, Javik and Liara, we should be able to save some of your memories." She sighed heavily as the door opened and held out her hand.
The gesture was so unlike Shepard. I stared at the offered hand for a moment, before clasping it in my own. I drew strength from the contact, letting her determination to save my memories fill me. I nodded, showing her I was ready, and stepped out of the elevator and into the hospital. The family waiting room bustled, more so than last time. People clung to one another, some sobbing, some looking completely lost while others paced, sipping coffee and growling at the harried looking nurses. This is what war does . . .. It breaks so many people, pulls families apart, and leaves the chill of death in the air.
Shepard tugged my hand gently, pulling me back into focus as she led me to the right of the doors. Standing before the window with his back turned to us, was a green-scaled man in skin-tight leather. If it hadn't been for what Shepard had just told me, I might have appreciated the sight. But right at that moment, I wasn't in the mood. He turned as we walked up to him, his movements fluid, like water over time-worn stone. Huge, black eyes scanned us and full green lips tilted into a welcoming smile.
"Commander Shepard, I'm glad you came," he said, surprising me with his voice. It held a deep double note, a little like Garrus's, but . . . deeper, richer and with a subtle hint of something I couldn't place. He turned to me, bowing a little, his hands behind his back. "Hello, Amiee. My name is Thane. Shepard has informed me of your . . . affliction. I will do my utmost to help you." His voice once again took me back, but this time because of the sorrow in the tone, not because of the sound his vocals made.
Shepard put her hand on my shoulder. "I'm going to visit Kaidan. I'll be back soon, okay? Stay, listen to Thane and trust him. I trust him with my life and I promise he won't hurt you." She squeezed my shoulder before walking away, leaving me alone with this drell who hadn't taken his eyes off me.
I stared after her, my mouth dropping open. What the hell, Shepard? Leave me with some randomer I don't even know and just . . . I'm gonna need that brandy. Thane chuckled at my discomfort, only to cough. It was that little sign of weakness from him that brought my barriers crashing down. I put my hand on his leather clad back as he wheezed, trying to catch some air. I rubbed softly until he straightened up and bowed his thanks. "So . . . uh . . .." I waved helplessly to the chairs, thinking he needed to sit down. "Are you alright?"
The drell nodded in affirmation. I studied him quietly, saying nothing while I did so. Black markings and pink frills drew my attention, before the diamond shape of his scales caught my eye. He looked so alien, and yet . . . human. A little unnerved, I looked away, absently watching out the window as he sat down. Following him, I let my gaze move to his hands, noting his strange dual fingers. Bet that makes tying shoe laces tricky, I thought, my eyes dropping to his feet. Well, never mind that. He wore laceless boots anyway, so I guessed tying his laces wasn't a problem. Realizing I was going off on a slightly random path, I met his eyes. "So . . . uh . . . I guess I . . .." I broke off, not knowing what to say. How do you explain to a complete stranger that you can't even remember your son's name or face?
"It's alright, Amiee, Shepard told me everything. You need not worry about explaining." He looked away, focusing on the window, seeming to sense my unease. "Though I find my mind struggling to comprehend that this world is that of make-believe, and that you are an avatar within a game. I trust Shepard, and know she would not ask for help unless the need were dire." He steepled his fingers. "I am unsure how I can help you, however. Drell memories do not work in the same way as human memories do. I can not teach you how to store memories as a drell would. What I can offer you, is some assistance in meditation. Calming yourself and compartmentalizing memories that would only take the place of recollections you wish to keep."
I let my breathing fill the silence that fell after he finished speaking, thinking over what he'd said. "I can't remember my son. Shepard says I have one, and I can feel what she said is true, but . . . he's gone, Thane. It's . . . it hurts and it's been hurting for a while, I've just didn't know why. I want him back. I want to know him, this child I can't even see the face of." My voice cracked a little, and a cold, scaled hand caught mine. "Please, help me." Fresh tears fell down my cheeks and I could do nothing to stop them.
Thane let out a soft hum, a bit like the ones Garrus does when he's upset or had argued with Shepard. I'd often sit in the main battery, just listening to him make those sorrowful little grumbles, soothing him as much as I could. Now Thane was soothing me, trying to halt the relentless flow of tears. "I will help you, Amiee. What little time I have left is yours." He reached out, taking my hand. "Close your eyes." He waited until I'd done so before continuing, his thumb stroking the back of my hand. "Now, take slow, even breaths. Let your body calm itself. Feel the ebb and flow of air in your chest, let out your pain with each exhale."
In the beginning, my breath came out in hiccupping little gasps until, slowly but surely, the sobs began to ease and my breathing came easier. I still hurt, but I could breathe. "Thank you, Thane," I whispered, not quite ready to let go of his hand. "How did you know what to do to stop my panic attack?" I asked him after another moment of quiet breathing.
"My son used to have them as a child. Whenever I would leave, he would cry and sometimes he would grow frantic," he explained, his voice lowering. "I would tell him to breathe, to keep breathing until I returned." Dark eyes met mine again. "I lost my son, Amiee, through faults and mistakes of my own. I will help you find yours, as Shepard helped me reunite with mine."
"You're coming on the Normandy with us?" I asked, hoping he would. It would be nice to have him around. His presence soothed me, like a spiritual healer almost.
Thane gave me an encouraging smile, which I took strength from and returned. He cleared his throat, a wheeze escaping him. "Shepard understands that I cannot be far from the hospital, but she also said that the Normandy will be docking here regularly. I will meet with you every time it does so, and I will help you learn to keep your memories. But for now, I must rest. My treatments are . . . extensive and tire me easily." He tapped on his omni-tool for a moment. "You have my contact details, all you have to do is send me a message if the pain becomes too much and we will meditate together."
I opened my mouth to thank him, but the words in my head just didn't feel like they were enough. I hardly knew this person and yet . . . he'd just given me something precious. He'd given me hope. I was suddenly in his arms before I'd realized I'd even moved. Hugging him tightly, I held on for dear life. "Thank you, so much, just . . . thank you." He patted me on the back before gently removing me from him, his face pinched and a little pale under the scales. "Oh god, I hurt you! I'm so sorry," I whispered, moving back as Shepard came out of the visiting rooms and he waved me away again, telling me that he was fine. Shepard didn't look happy, but when she saw my face, she let a soft smile drift over hers.
"Everything all right?" she asked, joining us. Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder. Once we'd both said we were okay, she let out a soft breath. The sound drew my eye, concern for how tired she sounded making me frown.
"What's wrong?" I asked, covering her hand with my own.
"We're leaving again. Wrex has asked me to go and help some of his men. We're heading to the Attican Traverse," she explained, a concerned frown on her face. "The loss of the Primarch's son has everyone tense, I want to get them off the ship and away from one another as soon as possible."
I flinched a little. I hadn't been on the mission to Tuchanka. I'd still been recovering after Sur'kesh, but from what Liara and James had told me, he'd died trying to fix a mistake his people had made a long time ago. I felt bad for the Primarch. Once you got over the his stuffiness, he was a really nice guy. He'd lost his son and I couldn't remember mine. The thought made me even more sad for him. My memories were dying, but his would make him relive every moment of his child's life. Remembering his son, only to know he'd never see him again. Life just isn't fair.
"When do we leave, Shepard?" I asked, wondering if I'd have time to grab a few essentials. Traynor had recommended a new toothbrush that I wanted to pick up, as well as a few things James needed too. I smiled at Thane, a little sad to be leaving him so soon. I didn't understand why, but I felt a strange sense of calm around him, kind of like the feeling you get when you're in a church. Tranquil, restful and soothing.
"Go find James and pick up whatever you need. But be back on the Normandy in two hours," she said, making no move to leave.
Seeing that she wanted to spend some time with Thane, I said my goodbyes, promising Thane that I would contact him if I needed to and left the hospital. Standing in the elevator alone, I stared down at my hands, listening to the soft hum of machinery and the pings of each floor passing by. No one intruded into my solitude, something I was grateful for, as it gave me the time I needed to collect myself.
Pulling my hair from my ponytail, I let my bangs fall around my face as the elevator took me down to Purgatory. James had said earlier that he'd be there, so I wanted to at least appear like I'd made an effort to look good. I hated bars like the Citadel bar. I always felt so . . . out of place. I knew I looked okay, I mean, my black fitted tank top and combat pants were 'subtle 'soldier' enough to be considered hot. Team that with combat boots and the many chained bracelets I wore, I looked like a stereotypical biker chick, so I ended up feeling pretty confident.
Walking into the club, I flinched as my ears were assaulted by sound, and my eyes closed for a second against the flashing lights. Taking a small breath, I walked towards the tall frame of my boyfriend, his mohawk visible over the heads of the other patrons. I couldn't help but wonder about their attitude. They all looked happy, drunk and having a good time . . . until I looked closer. Joker always said that kind of dancing was 'Forget your troubles' dancing, not happy dancing. He always pointed out the arms, saying that a guy that dances that way is more interested in forgetting something than what he looked like . . .. I had to agree with him.
Their eyes gave everything away. Fear, pain, death, confusion and loss lingered in their eyes, a sign that war had finally reached the Citadel. I weaved in and out between waitresses, dancers and drunkards, putting my hand on James's arm as soon as I had broken through the crowd around the bar.
"Hey," I greeted, standing on tiptoe to kiss the corner of his mouth. He kissed me properly, releasing a little growl before pulling away and looking down at me. "You okay?" I asked, taking him in. He wore his customary grey shirt-the fabric clinging to his muscles and making my hands itching to touch him-combined with his combat pants and the ever present military tags.
"Muñeca," James whispered, drawing me into the circle of his arms. "Just chillin' out down here, seein' what's going on. Your friend, Jack, is over there. She looks pissed, though." He nodded across the room, drawing my eyes to the inked up woman. "You gonna go say hi? Or spend some time with me?" He nuzzled against my cheek. "I missed you."
"I missed you too, babe," I whispered. I hesitated for a moment. "I spoke with Shepard. She explained that my memories are dying and she's trying to get me some help. I dunno, I hope Thane can help." I sighed, pressing my forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry I've been worrying you so much. Why didn't you tell me?"
James kissed the top of my head. "Because you've been under so much stress, I guess I didn't want to make it worse. I can deal, don't worry." After a long moment of just holding me, he pulled back and handed me a drink. "Got you this, tell me what you think." His eyes took on a hopeful cast, almost bashful.
The boyish look on his face had me taking a sip of the bright pink concoction, and after tasting it, I swallowed and grinned. "It's energy drink and . . . something else. I can't put my finger on it. What is it?" I asked, scrutinizing the glass. The pink liquid swirled as I moved it, little gold flecks spinning in the bottom. "Is that . . .."
"Goldschlager," James finished, pride in his voice. "Shepard said small things like your favorite drinks will help jog your memories." He kissed my forehead, silently wiping the tears that sprang from my eyes and stained my cheeks. "No crying," he whispered, wrapping his arm around me. Pulling me out of the bar area, he led me to the dance floor and began to sway us gently, his big body fluid against mine.
I let him dance with me, sobbing quietly into his chest, the music filling me and pushing down my sorrow. I may be forgetting, but memories like this . . .. I began to dance, letting myself be free of the sorrow for one moment and just savoring the safety of his embrace. My tears stopped falling and my eyes closed as we moved. He was distracting me, trying to show me that though everything was dark, there could be some joy.
"Yo, Fuckers!"
I jumped at the sound of Jack's voice rocketing off the walls over the music. Turning, I couldn't help a grin from spreading across my face. "Jack!" I called back, taking in her outfit, or lack of one. She wore her leather bandeau top and jacket all teamed up with her combat pants and ass-kicking boots. Her hair was tied back, showing off the tattoo's at the sides of her head. "How are you? How are the kids?" I asked her, raising my voice over the music.
"No time for talking, Ames. Time for dancing and none of that teary-eyed, romantic, swaying shit either. We're gonna party so I can actually have some fun on this hunk of crap of a Citadel," she responded, catching my hand and dragging me to the center of the room. "Now shake your damn ass and don't show me up!"
I laughed out loud, realizing that she too had been recruited to cheer me up. I began to dance as James came to stand behind me. His hands found my hips and his chest brushed against my back. "Ready to show her how we dance, Action Man?" I asked, arching my back and snaking my hips.
"You bet, Muñeca," he whispered into my ear, and responded by grinding against me. The music fueled me and, for a while, I willingly let myself forget.