Chapter Twenty-Two: Mother Knows Best

Everything about the hospital waiting area was designed to be soothing, from the comfortable chairs to the smooth beige walls to the potted plants to the quiet music. But none of it seemed to have any effect on Thane. Deena watched helplessly as he paced back and forth, checking the time every few minutes, watching the door as though he expected the doctor to return with news at any moment. She had long ago given up on getting him to sit down.

Goddess, he looked terrible. Battered and bloody, he moved stiffly, favoring his right leg slightly. His eyes were glassy with exhaustion, his face drawn, his frills pale. He winced every time he coughed, pressing a hand to his ribs. The man was a mess—in more ways than one.

Finally, she couldn't stand watching him anymore. "Thane, you really should let someone take a look at you," she said. "You took a beating back there, and I can tell you're in pain. At least let them get you patched up."

But Thane shook his head, distracted and not even looking at her. "No. Not until I know Caia is all right."

"The doctor said she'll be fine," said Deena.

"The doctor said she was optimistic," Thane shot back. Now he did look at her, his jaw clenched, his eyes carefully blank. "I wish I could say the same."

"Thane—"

"I will live," he snapped. "Forgive me if I prefer to be certain my daughter will, as well."

Deena folded her arms and glared up at him. "And forgive me for trying to make sure you take care of yourself. If you keel over because you're concussed or bleeding internally or something, you'll be no good to her at all."

For a moment, she thought he was going to argue further. He stopped his pacing, returning her glare and opening his mouth as if to say something. But then he lowered his eyes, and with a heavy sigh sank into a chair beside her. Resting his elbows on his knees, he folded his hands under his chin and closed his eyes. There was nothing relaxed about his posture, though. Every line of his body spoke of tension and fear.

If she had to guess, Deena suspected he was worried about more than just Caia's survival. She'd been inside his mind; she knew exactly how he felt about his shortcomings as a father. He felt he was failing Kolyat, and he feared he would fail Caia as well. He was probably worried about how Irikah would react.

She hated seeing him like this. There had to be something she could do, something she could say.

"You don't have to do this, you know," she offered finally. "The way she was conceived… you have no obligation. No one would think less of you if you surrendered her for adoption."

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. Thane suddenly went very, very still, and he didn't open his eyes. His voice was quiet and cold as he said, "The circumstances of her conception are irrelevant. It is enough for me to know that she is mine. I will not abandon her."

"Okay," Deena conceded, glad he couldn't see her frown. "I just… I only want what's best for you. For both of you. You know that, right?"

But what was best for them? Though she had not a doubt in her mind that Thane loved Caia as fiercely as he did Kolyat and Irikah, sending her home with him seemed to Deena a rash decision at best. What kind of a life would she have? As an asari daughter of two drell, she would be orphaned before she was sixty. She would outlive her brother, and her brother's children, and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. On Kahje, she would be the alien, the outsider, the subject of whispers and gossip.

And that would draw attention to the family. Deena's breath stilled in her throat as the thought occurred to her. The very last thing Thane needed was for his family to acquire any sort of notoriety. Being connected to him made them targets already. Becoming the subjects of any further scrutiny would only put them all in even greater danger.

And how would Irikah react, presented with a child that was not hers? Deena knew what Thane hoped she would do, but that was a far cry from knowing the woman firsthand. What if she rejected Caia outright? What if she did accept her, but only for Thane's sake? Caia would grow up a second-class citizen in her own home. And it would stress Thane and Irikah's already-strained marriage, perhaps to the breaking point. It wasn't fair to any of them.

No, Caia should not, under any circumstances, go home with Thane. But if she survived… for all her doubts about Irikah, Deena knew Thane well. And he would not be convinced to give up his child.

She shook her head. "If I have to stare at the inside of this room for one more minute, I'm going to lose my mind." Sighing, she stood and started for the door. "Coming?"

Thane hesitated and glanced up at the door leading back toward the operating room. For a moment, she thought he was going to decline. But then his shoulders sagged, and he nodded slowly. "Very well." To the nurse at the desk, he said, "Call me if there is any news. Please."

"Of course, Mr. Nuara."

Deena hadn't been lying about needing fresh air. The atmosphere in the waiting room had been stuffy, heavy with disinfectants and dread. But as they stepped out onto the small balcony overlooking the city, a cool breeze drifted across her face and she closed her eyes, breathing deep.

She rarely took the time anymore to stop and really appreciate the sounds and smells of Nos Astra, but now she took comfort in them. The warm, spicy scents of exotic food drifted up from restaurants and street vendors. Pulsing music from nightclubs and bars blended into chaotic polyrhythms, muffled by distance and traffic to become the heartbeat of the city. The ozone tang of mass effect engines sat sharply on her tongue, and when she opened her eyes again, everywhere she looked was a riot of light and color. Deena leaned on the railing, taking it all in, letting it relax and ground her.

Thane, on the other hand, didn't seem comforted at all. He, too, leaned on the railing, hands gripping it as if for dear life. He stared down into the undercity, his gaze unfocused, his shoulders hunched and tense. Deena could imagine all too well what he saw, what flashbacks danced before his eyes, what worried plagued his mind. Her heart ached for him.

There had to be some way to make him understand. To make him see that Caia would be better off growing up in an asari family on an asari world. That she would be safer and happier that way. That his family would be happier. That this solution would ultimately be the least painful for everyone.

But she didn't know how to even broach the subject. So a silence filled the space between them, a silence that pretended to be companionable, a silence that ignored the tension and expectation that arced through the space like electricity. A silence full of questions without answers, and answers without questions.

An idea sprang to mind, a way that she could solve this conundrum. A way that would have the added bonus of making sure Thane got the medical attention he needed, too. But she dismissed it immediately. It crossed too many lines. She couldn't possibly—

"Mr. Nuara?"

Deena and Thane both turned to see the nurse from the desk at the door. "Yes?" said Thane, and the plaintive note of hope in his voice brought a lump to Deena's throat.

The nurse smiled. "I've just heard from the doctor: Caia made it through surgery. She's not entirely out of the woods yet, but she is stable for now. Would you like to come see her?"

"Yes, of course," Thane breathed, but Deena caught his arm to stop him.

"Give us a moment," she said to the nurse, who nodded and went back inside.

Thane glowered at her. "What?" he demanded.

Rather than meet his anger with anger, Deena reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders. "Are you sure about this?" she asked. "Are you certain this is what's right for her? For your family?"

But Thane was resolute. He held her gaze steadily, jaw clenched, eyes hard. "I have never been more certain of anything in my life."

Deena swallowed hard. She was out of options. She knew what she had to do. Though she wasn't really sure how, and the very thought of it made her sick, she had no choice but to try. "Oh, Thane," she sighed, bowing her head, "I hope you can forgive me."

Thane's brow ridge furrowed in a frown. "For what?"

"For this." Deena slid her hands off his shoulders to grip his upper arms tightly. He stiffened when she met his eyes, and she knew hers had turned black. "Embrace eternity, my friend."

The meld was an entirely different experience when it was forced.

The last time she'd done this, she'd had his permission. She had entered his mind as a guest and trodden lightly, tracing lines of memory with a gentle hand the way an explorer traces lines on a map. But this time, she barged in uninvited, striding through his memories like an invading army. And her mission was seek and destroy.

He tried to fight back, but he didn't really know how. She pushed through his defenses as gently as she could. There would still be pain; there was no getting around that. But she wasn't a monster. She was doing this to protect him—and Caia, and Irikah, and Kolyat—not to hurt him.

She tried to reassure him of that, but still he fought. Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead, sifting through his memories, seeking the stretch of time she intended to erase. Door slammed in her face in what would have been an effective visualization, if he'd been asari, but he just didn't have the psychic strength to back it up. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she thought as barrier after barrier crumbled before her.

Shock and betrayal and anger reverberated through the meld as Thane struggled to throw her out. No! Deena, stop!

But she couldn't stop. It was too late. She had committed to this course of action, and had no choice now but to see it through.

Thane felt her determination and redoubled his efforts, but to no avail. Deena found the memory she wanted—only moments ago, the nurse's reassuring words. She pictured it like the page of an old-fashioned book, and tore it free.

Dimly, she felt him flinch under her hands as his cry of pain and terror echoed in her mind. No!

Back further, pacing the waiting room. She ripped that one away, as well.

Stop!

Arriving at the hospital, refusing treatment for his own wounds. Another page gone.

Don't do this! Deena, please!

Caia's tiny body nearly lost on the stretcher as the paramedics loaded her into an ambulance.

I beg you, stop!

Ceris's black eyes, fading back to pale gray as she fell.

Deena, why?

Thane, I'm sorry. It's for your own good.

And then she removed the memory of the meld, too. He would recall nothing since confronting Ceris—and he would have no idea Deena had done it.

It was the perfect crime.

Thane collapsed the moment she released him. She managed to catch him before he hit the floor, but he was out cold, dead weight. She staggered and fell.

And for a long moment, she just sat there, her friend unconscious in her arms. Goddess, he looked so young, so vulnerable. What she'd just done was nothing short of monstrous.

He would not remember any of this, but she would never forget. She would have to live the rest of her long, long life with the knowledge of how she'd violated him. With the echo of his mental voice begging her in agony to stop. With the lie she would tell him when she woke.

Whatever friendship they maintained from here on out would be a sham, sustained only by secrets and a trust she no longer deserved. But keeping secrets, well, that was what she did. And if it kept him safe, kept his family and Caia safe, then it was worth it. What was a few centuries of guilt compared to the better course of four lives?

Right now, though, it was too much. Tears poured down her face, and deep, shuddering sobs wracked her body. She clutched his motionless form tightly. "I'm sorry, Thane, I'm so sorry," she whispered, though he'd never hear her apology.

Finally, she looked up through the still-open door toward where the duty nurse sat at the desk, oblivious. "Help!" Deena cried, startling the nurse into action. "Please, somebody help me!"

His senses returned one at a time.

A sour taste in his mouth.

The sharp smell of antiseptic in the air.

The beeping of monitors above and around him.

A hard bed beneath him. A cool, crisp sheet spread over his body.

He opened his eyes.

Harsh white light seemed to spear directly into his brain, and he turned his head away with a hiss, squinting against it while his vision adjusted. He struggled to remember where he was, and how he'd gotten here.

His memory stopped somewhere during the raid on Ceris's hideout. He remembered cradling Caia, limp and cold, in his arms. He remembered the blind rage that had filled his world with ice and fire. And then… nothing. Emptiness. A horrifyingly familiar void.

Merciful Kalahira, not again, please.

"Thane?"

A familiar voice cut through his bewilderment. A feminine voice, soft and tremulous and worried. Deena.

He blinked the last of the glare away and looked up to meet her eyes. Her brow was knotted, and she wrung her hands so hard he feared she might break her own fingers. Her face was drawn and pale.

"Deena," he croaked, his voice hoarse. "What happened?"

Deena drew a deep breath and met his gaze steadily even as tears gathered in her eyes. "H-how much do you remember?" she asked softly.

Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath. "I remember… I remember springing my trap," he said. "Freeing you, taking down Ceris's bodyguards. She… she threatened Caia, and…"

The memory of the battle welled up to flood his consciousness, and he made no attempt to fight it. "Everything happens at once. Deena Pulls Caia from Ceris's arms. Ceris fires on her, misses. I charge toward her. Her Singularity catches me lifts me, off the ground. It's tearing me apart. I'm trapped.

"Only one way out. 'Deena, take cover!' I detonate the Singularity with a Warp.

"I hit the far wall hard. Pain and dizziness, but no severe damage. Ceris doesn't move, unconscious or dead, I cannot tell. For the moment, I do not care.

"But Caia is wounded. Still and cold, alive, but barely. I cradle her in my arms even as white-hot fury floods my brain and scorches my soul. I advance on Ceris, weapon drawn. She stirs, looks up at me, and…

"And…" Pain speared through his head like an ice pick behind his eyes, obliterating everything that came after. "And then I can recall nothing until awakening here." His stomach turned as he came to the obvious conclusion. "Deena… did she…?"

Deena nodded grimly. "Ceris tried to… she forced another meld on you," she ground out. "As soon as I realized she had you, I shot her. In the head. She's not coming back this time, I promise."

"Good." It was done, then. It was over. Ceris would no longer threaten his family, nor anyone else's. But before he would allow himself to feel relief at that, there remained one more thing he needed to know. "Where is Caia?" he asked.

Swallowing hard, Deena stared down at her hands. Her shoulders began to tremble, and the first tear slid down her cheek.

Thane's blood turned to ice in his veins. A numb, hollow emptiness spread through the pit of his stomach. He felt dizzy, hollow. And still he refused to believe it. Not until she said it out loud.

"Deena," he insisted, his voice flat and robotic even to his own ears. "Where. Is. Caia?"

"She… I'm so sorry, Thane," Deena whispered. "Her injuries… she didn't make it."

He didn't know what he'd expected to feel, given the terrible news. Grief, of course. Anger. But not this… nothingness that settled over him like sand at the bottom of the sea. A cold, dark stillness that swallowed anything that dared disturb it.

"I want to see her," he said dully.

But Deena shook her head. "No. Thane… you don't want to see her like this."

"She was my daughter, Deena. I would say goodbye properly. Hold her one last…" He swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat. "One last time."

Deena disentangled her fingers to take both of his hands in hers, and met his eyes again. "Wouldn't you rather remember her as she was?"

"I will always remember her as she was," he snapped, pulling his hands away and glaring at her. "Let me see her."

With a sigh, Deena pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down. "I didn't want to spring this on you the moment you woke up, but… you can't."

"What?" Thane sat up straight, ignoring the soreness and vertigo the sudden movement caused, and growled, "Explain yourself."

"Hospital administration won't let you. Believe me, I tried." She shrugged helplessly. "The trouble is, there's no way to prove she's yours. Legally, she's an orphan. Was an orphan. A ward of the government."

"Surely there must be something you can—"

But Deena was already shaking her head. "I can pull a lot of strings, Thane, but without her biological mother to vouch for you, there is nothing I can do. If there's one thing asari hold sacred even on Illium, it's our children. I'm so sorry, but they've already taken her away."

"I… I see." Thane stared down at his hands, clasped tightly in his lap. The hollowness inside him had grown so pervasive, he was vaguely surprised they didn't crush each other to dust. "Just… please, if you have any influence at all, don't let them burn her body."

Deena blinked, frowning. "If I may ask… why?"

"It's considered a grave desecration among my people," Thane replied flatly. "I know she wasn't drell, but…"

"I will do what I can. I promise."

It was cold comfort. But it was all he was going to get.