Adjustment Disorder

Thane sat at his table, bracing his elbows against the metal surface, and clasped his hands in front of him. He stared out at the mass effect energy surrounding the drive core as he turned the events of the last couple of weeks over in his head. Despite clinging to the last of his battle sleep, he realized he'd developed feelings of some sort for the human commander. He examined them, ripping them out of himself and laying them out on the table before him, allowing himself to look at them objectively.

He'd spent ten years in solitude, only communicating with those interested in hiring his services or whose services he sought in aid of acquiring his target. He had no friends, no one to share any part of his life with … no lover beyond the very rare few hours he might spend in a stranger's bed, either because his contract required it of him, or because the needs of his flesh grew too loud to ignore. Empty encounters, void of any emotion or connection.

The last thing he truly allowed himself to feel was the depraved satisfaction in hunting down the men who murdered his wife. Before that, the agony of racing home only to find he was too late. The shame of seeing his son, distraught beyond all reason and unable to find it in himself to offer the child comfort as Kolyat strained to free himself, chase his mother's body out into the deep, tears streaming down his face, begging Thane not to let them take her away.

He bit down on the edge of his tongue, using the sharp pain and taste of blood to center himself in the present, refusing to allow those memories to escape into the monitored confines of Life Support. He'd felt so little for so few his entire life. How could he possibly hope to understand what it was he felt for Shepard? It wasn't like what he felt for Irikah, yet it was so unlike what he ever felt for those few he once counted among his friends. Regardless, he knew better than to trust any emotion sweeping in to drown him after ten years spent in a battle sleep. Everything felt stronger, more real, than if he'd remained accustomed to experiencing emotions over the last decade.

He'd told her of Irikah and Kolyat. Why? Oh, he didn't go into great detail, but neither did he hold back from revealing their connection to him when she asked. The thought of denying her the truth never really crossed his mind. He spent his life shrouded in lies, a necessity for an assassin. So why then would he so easily share with her what he held closest to his heart? How had he come to trust her so completely, so swiftly? And he realized he did.

She was concerned for him, for his family. Clearly, she thought it important they know of the dangers Thane faced joining her mission, regardless of already being terminally ill. There was something ….

"I left him in the care of his aunts and uncles," I say, unable to meet her gaze. Believing she might think less of me. I don't wish to see disappointment in her eyes. "Though he is a man now and has likely moved from their home. I haven't—" I struggle to give voice to my actions, to justify my choice to abandon my son. "I don't—I am no longer a part of his life, it is better this way." The words … they're meant for me, not her. "Safer, for him."

Less than a second passes before she responds. I think she must've already known exactly what she wanted to say. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked." Remorse fills her voice, and it shames me further. I want to reassure her, tell her she's done nothing wrong. After all, I made the choice to share, she did not tear the words from my lips. But I can't speak. Can't look at her. She takes a deep breath. Hesitates. The air in her lungs scrapping a small, crackle of sound from her vocal chords as it tries to escape. "I just thought," she says, hesitates again, "... nevermind, I apologize."

"What, Shepard? What did you think?" Thane whispered, moving his clasped hands against his mouth.

"Shepard is on a mission right now." EDI's voice filled the room, pulling him away from his musings. "Would you like for me to inform her that you wish to speak to her when she returns?"

He chuckled, lowering his hands to fold them on top of the table. "No, EDI, thank you. I was speaking to myself, lost in thought."

"I see," EDI said, and then as if considering his statement, she added, "I have found many organics speak to themselves when they perceive themselves to be alone."

"Indeed?" He raised a brow ridge.

"Yes. I have also found organics tend to speak to objects incapable of thought. For instance, Flight Lieutenant Moreau often speaks to the ship and the flight controls." Her tone shifted, taking on an almost humorous lilt. "At first, I believed he was speaking to me when he did this, but when I inquired as to why he persisted to call me 'baby', he laughed and informed me he was talking to the Normandy and not to me. I asked him why he would speak to an inanimate object, did he not understand the Normandy was incapable of response, but he only cursed and muted my speakers in the cockpit."

Thane grinned, letting out a light laugh. The AI was also growing on him, despite knowing she made reports to the Illusive Man. Her curiosity and the conclusions she drew at times amused him. "Have you come to understand why organics behave this way?"

"I searched my databases and came to the conclusion that it serves the purpose of aiding in thought process and problem solving," said EDI. "At times, it also helps to stave off the effects of social isolation."

"That sounds like an accurate conclusion." Thane dipped his head.

"Are you feeling socially isolated, Thane?" EDI asked, her tone soft, conveying a compassion she claimed to be unable to feel, yet inquisitive. "You do not often leave Life Support unless you are called on to take part in a mission, and you only speak with Shepard with any regularity."

The question surprised him, leaving him blinking while he processed her intentions. "I—Not at the moment, no. I suppose I am attempting to problem solve."

"Then may I be of assistance?"

He thought about it for a moment and then smiled. "Perhaps … consider the conversation I had with Shepard in her cabin regarding my family. I am trying to understand what Shepard might have been thinking when she said, 'I just thought … nevermind, I apologize.' Have you any suggestions?"

"Analysis of Shepard's body language, facial expressions, and biometric scans from that moment indicate there was something more she wished to say but was reluctant to express herself. My databases indicate this is often the case when an individual doesn't wish to upset the person they're speaking to, or they fear punishment for breaking a social norm." She paused for a moment, and just as Thane was about to speak again, she said, "Given the context of the conversation and the human tendency to attempt to reconnect with those they have distanced themselves from in the final years of their lives, as well as the tendency of humans to consider the preservation of familial bonds as a moral imperative in life, I suspect she thought the same thing I did in that moment: you should reconnect with your son and inform him of your illness and the nature of our current mission while there is still time."

"Ah." Thane brought his hands back up to his mouth. "Of course. Thank you, EDI."

The AI's hypothesis carried an uncomfortable ring of truth. He wouldn't be surprised at all to learn she successfully narrowed down Shepard's thoughts on the matter. Undoubtedly, Shepard didn't feel comfortable giving voice to her opinion because of his obvious discomfort, and the way he handled things when she attempted to persuade him to reconsider her offer of medical assistance.

"You are welcome," EDI said, pulling him back out of his thoughts. "Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

"Indeed, I wonder if you have told the Illusive Man of my conversations with Shepard." At the very least, he suspected the AI wouldn't feel any need to lie to him. "If he has been informed of the nature of our discussions."

"I have not. Relationships and conversations held outside of active duty times are given low priority unless they relate to, or have the potential to affect, the mission against the collectors. When a report is filed regarding such activities, it is succinct, including only those details of higher level importance." There was a pause of a few seconds before EDI added, "Conversations and actions which seem to indicate a psychological disturbance are reported, in minimal detail, to Yeoman Chambers."

Thane considered her words for a moment, finding it likely EDI had informed Ms. Chambers of the things Shepard spoke of, her fears of not really being alive. But what else might the AI have interpreted as a sign of 'psychological disturbance'? "I see, and what have you reported to Ms. Chambers in regards to my conversations with Shepard?"

"Yeoman Chambers has been informed that Shepard has expressed thoughts and emotions which may be indicative of an adjustment disorder, anxiety, and depression," said EDI. "She has expressed distaste at discussing these things with Yeoman Chambers but appears to be seeking regular counsel with one of the crew members." She paused. "I have been asked to monitor Shepard for indicators of worsening symptoms or the expression of suicidal ideation. Should Shepard display these qualities, I am obligated to notify Yeoman Chambers."

"Has … has Shepard mentioned a desire to commit suicide?" The thought battered at his battle sleep like waves crashing against Kahje's shores during a storm, the undertow threatening to pull him under completely.

"I cannot answer that question." Her tone sounded almost regretful. "However, I can tell you that overall, her mood appears to have improved since you joined the crew. I believe time spent with you is beneficial for Shepard, as such, I have given an increased priority to these times, rerouting non-vital communications to her messaging system and informing crew that if their needs can wait, it would be best if they not disturb her."

"I see." He hesitated, weighing out the new information, examining the stirring of whatever emotions he felt towards Shepard. It sounded as if the AI and Ms. Chambers expected much of him. He felt inclined to want to help Shepard, regardless of whatever else he may or may not feel towards the woman, but he didn't feel qualified to have such a delicate matter rest on his shoulders alone. Nor did he approve of the idea of those around her conspiring about how best to handle her mental health without her knowledge. "Is she aware of this … arrangement?"

"No, but there is no mandate preventing her from being informed," EDI said.

He tilted his head. "I believe she would want to know."

"Very well. I will compile a report to send to her messaging system." EDI fell silent for a moment. "The report has been sent."

He had much to consider, but still, EDI hadn't given him all of the answers he sought. "Have you not filed any reports about me in specific?"

The AI didn't hesitate before saying, "Reports were filed regarding your explorations of the Normandy. You did not attempt to access any secured areas or information, so the threat was deemed negligible and you were allowed to continue."

They consider me a threat? Interesting.

"Nothing else?" he asked.

"Not to date." Her voice took on a light, almost teasing tone as she asked, "Is there a specific subject you would like for me to file a report on?"

Thane chuckled. "No, not at all. I would prefer no reports regarding me were filed, but I understand you are required to fulfill your duties." He sat back in his chair. "How is Shepard's current mission going?"

"The mission is complete and the shuttle will reach the Normandy in two minutes and thirty-two seconds," EDI said.

"Indeed?" He found himself on his feet before he even realized he intended to stand. "Thank you, EDI. This conversation has been enlightening."

Thane made his way down to the hangar, an uneasy apprehension guiding his feet. He dreaded seeing her return with wounds still bleeding, feared what it might mean for her if she continued on with her practice of bloodletting. Both in regards to her well-being and what it might mean to Cerberus, what they might do if the Illusive Man decided his mandate to bring Shepard back exactly as she was had been unsuccessful. EDI held the elevator once it reached the hangar, informing him she would open the doors as soon as the airlock seals were restored.

When the elevator opened, he saw the shuttle lowering itself to the hangar floor. He stepped aside to watch, taking up station next to one of the coolant system fans to wait for Shepard. Jacob was the first to exit the shuttle, and the look on the man's face as he marched toward the elevator urged Thane into the shadows. Clearly, the distress signal on Aeia had not been what Jacob hoped for, and Thane didn't know him—nor trust the Cerberus operative—well enough to attempt to console him in any way. Indeed, the human had also made his distaste for Thane and his profession clear the night Thane joined the Normandy. Better to let the man pass uncontested, unaware of Thane's presence.

Glancing around the corner, he saw Garrus headed for the elevator. Shepard, on the other hand, sat down on the open edge of the shuttle, feet on the hangar floor. She placed her helmet between her feet and braced her elbows on her knees, scrubbing her hands over her face. Garrus glanced back over his shoulder, clearly expecting to find Shepard not far behind, and he stopped when he realized she wasn't following him. He didn't yet seem aware of Thane's presence, either, though Thane knew a few more feet and the turian would easily pick up on his scent. He found himself pressing further back into the hangar, questioning his own sanity. What reason did he have to hide himself from Garrus?

Garrus turned back, making his way towards the shuttle once more as Thane watched from the shadows. The turian stopped in front of Shepard, looking down at her, and she up at him. "Hey, Shepard. Are you alright?" Garrus asked, voice trailing back to Thane, all but echoing through the cavernous hangar. "You seem, hmm," he said, pausing, shoulders expanding as if he'd taken a deep breath. "Spirits, it's so hard to get an accurate read on you now, your scent is all tangled up in the smell of metal and hot circuitry."

Silently, Thane crept a little further down the hangar, parallel to where the two talked. He stayed to the shadows and the environmental equipment, knowing the metal and oils would help disguise his scent. How would he explain his behavior if Garrus caught wind of him?

She scoffed, face contorting into a mask of contempt, shaking her head. "You'd think that'd make it easier for you to actually talk to me, you seem to prefer the company of machines." Wincing, she dropped her gaze and shook her head again. "Damn it, I'm sorry, Garrus. I shouldn't be snapping at you, I'm not upset with you."

He hummed, moving to crouch down in front of her, one arm braced against his knee, the fingers of his other hand pressing against the ground. "No, I probably deserved that. But, it's not you, Shepard. I'm just not in a good space right now." Moving his hand from the floor, he reached out and settled it on her shoulder. "What's going on with you? Talk to me."

Thane stilled, watching as she shifted, leaning into the contact a fraction. He felt … sweet Arashu, what did he feel? Torn. He felt torn. Some part of him selfishly wished she'd brush aside Garrus' questions and tell him everything was alright, sharing those parts of herself with Thane alone. He wanted to be the one to comfort her, though why and how he found himself in such a position was beyond his understanding. Then again, another part of him wanted her to share her fears with the person she considered her closest friend. Perhaps she'd find an anchor she seemed so desperate for, perhaps then he might find his own peace in returning to the shadows of her life, trusting she'd be looked after by someone else.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow. "I guess I'm just not really in a good space, either. I'm still wrapping my head around being alive again—if I even really am alive again—and what that means in the face of war, but then I run across complete assholes like Jacob's dad, and I just … some people make it really hard for me to not kill them."

Thane's brow ridges twitched. So, they'd found Jacob's father alive? Interesting. He wondered what the man did to so clearly anger Jacob and make Shepard wish to harm him.

Garrus chuffed, mandibles fluttering lightly. "Yeah, I know the feeling." Shifting his weight on his toes, he pivoted, turning to sit next to her on the open shuttle. "What do you mean if you're really alive again?"

She turned her head to look at him and shrugged. "It just doesn't feel real sometimes. How can it be? I died, Garrus. And I've killed way too many people in my career to not know how permanent death is." Sucking in a deep breath, she held it for a moment. "Except for things like what Saren became at the end—and husks."

Ah. She hasn't spoken of this with me, not yet. Perhaps EDI and I have both overestimated her comfort with me. Or perhaps these are thoughts she's only now finding the courage to voice.

Letting out a low growl, Garrus held her gaze and shook his head. "You're not like Saren, or the husks, Shepard."

She stared at her helmet on the ground for a long moment, letting the silence stretch. "I think they used reaper tech to bring me back." She turned a hand over, showing him her empty palm. "We know they've meddled with it before, experimented on husks. And there was a hell of a lot of tech floating around the Citadel after we killed Sovereign. It makes sense." She glanced up at Garrus, that fear filling her gaze once more.

The layers to her nightmares just kept unfolding, revealing something new and perhaps more terrifying with each word. Thane's chest tightened, and he fought the urge to rub at the ache, taking slow, deep breaths to ease the pain. Her thoughts weren't irrational, from what he read about the reapers, and what he'd seen with Cerberus … there was certainly a chance they'd used reaper technology to resurrect her. But did that mean she would become like Saren? He didn't understand exactly how the indoctrination process worked, but it appeared in her reports as if an individual needed to spend a significant amount of time around an unshielded artifact, or as with Saren, with an actual reaper. Would the pieces of Sovereign—if that's what they were—implanted in her hold such power? Her reports on Saren's statements indicated it was a slow and insidious process, but when he looked at Shepard, Thane couldn't imaging the vibrant soul he saw within her ever becoming so corrupt.

Garrus let out another low growl. "You're not like Saren. Saren was insane. He wanted to help the reapers. Last I checked, you still want to kill them. So, unless that's changed …."

"No," she said, shaking her head, "it hasn't changed, but what if it does? I mean … what if Kaidan's right? What if by working with Cerberus, even to defeat the collectors, I'm already losing myself, and I just don't realize it yet? And you're here with me, surrounded by people who, for all we really know, would happily perform insane experiments on you to advance humanity. All because you had the unfortunate luck of believing in me."

Thane began to understand why she only turned to Garrus with those thoughts. Who knew her better? Who could tell her if she was behaving in a way untrue to herself? Who else but Garrus, who had witnessed the betrayal she endured by her lover—someone they both knew—could assuage those specific fears?

"Hmmm. I'm only alive right now because of you, Shepard," Garrus said, looking sideways at her. "Back on Omega, before you showed up, I knew I wasn't getting out of it alive. I even called my father to apologize for not listening to his advice, but then I saw you through my scope, and I knew I'd survive. So, I'd say my believing in you has brought me pretty damn good luck."

So Thane had that much in common with the turian. If not for Shepard's arrival, he would quite likely have died in Dantius Towers.

Shepard snorted, pressing her face into her hands. "That must've been an awkward conversation."

"It was," Garrus said, voice dry. Flicking a mandible, he hummed and leaned over, bumping his shoulder against hers. "But, it could've gone a hell of a lot worse."

"You mean like taking a rocket to the face?" She glanced up, giving him a half-smile.

Thane hadn't yet heard the story of what happened to Garrus to cause half his face to be wrapped in bandages. If what Shepard implied was in fact true, then Thane was impressed by the turian's resilience. Then again, he'd heard rumors of the turian on Omega calling himself Archangel long before he met Garrus, if half of them were true, then perhaps Thane shouldn't be surprised at all. Shepard did seem intent on surrounding herself with the best in everything.

Garrus chuffed, fluttering his mandibles. "I think it makes me look … distinguished."

"That it does." She leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder.

The ease with which Shepard and Garrus talked and touched one another left Thane longing for that same level of companionship. He reminded himself he had that once, and so much more, but he abandoned it—abandoned his wife and child. Irikah died because he wasn't there to protect her, he didn't deserve to have companionship—in any form—not truly, with anyone else. Yet Shepard had given it to him again, anyway. No, perhaps not the same as she shared with Garrus, but companionship nevertheless. Indeed, it must be that void, having been given a taste and howling for more, which left him so confused and drove him to such inappropriate thoughts and behavior—such as lurking behind an environmental fan in the hangar, spying on her as she shared an intimate moment with her dearest friend, as if she were a target he intended to eliminate.

Garrus let out a confused sounding trill, but then shifted, throwing his arm over her shoulder. "Hmm. So … how badly do you think this mission screwed with Jacob's head?"

"He'll pull it together, but—yeah," she said, shrugging the shoulder pressed against his side, "I can't imagine what he must be going through."

"I thought he was going to shoot Ronald." Garrus flared his mandibles. "Didn't look like you were going to stop him, either."

She turned a little to look up at him, and he met her gaze. "Should I have?"

"I wouldn't have, but, uh, hmmm." His mandibles fluttered, and he gave her a light shake of his head. "I may not be the best person to talk to if you're trying to calibrate your moral compass, Shepard. You know I've never exactly been a by the book kind of turian."

She laughed, the sound echoing off the hangar walls. "You just had to slip 'calibrate' in there somewhere, didn't you, Vakarian? I think you may have an addiction."

Garrus chuckled, but Thane didn't quite understand the joke. "Maybe. But, it keeps me focused on something else, you know? Keeps me out of my own head."

"Yeah …." She smirked, looking up at Garrus again. "Maybe I should go calibrate the guns, then."

He chuffed. "You stay away from my guns, we actually want to hit our targets when the time comes."

She snorted and slapped his armored chest with the back of her hand. "Don't give me that shit, Garrus. We both know I'm the better shot."

"Ha!" Garrus' sudden bark of the word thundered across the hangar, making Thane blink in surprise. "In what reality are you a better shot than I am?"

She arched an eyebrow. "In every reality."

"Uh huh." His mandibles fluttered with his humor, mouth plates shifting into a smirk. "When this mission is over, you and me, we're hitting the range. We'll settle this once and for all."

"It's a date," Shepard said, grinning as she turned her head back to rest against his shoulder.

"Hmmm. Speaking of dates, rumor has it you've been spending a lot of time with Thane in Life Support, and I may have seen the two of you headed up to your cabin the night Wrex was onboard." He raised his brow plates, looking down at her. "Something there? Should the Normandy be expecting little human-drell hybrids running around?"

Thane's breath caught in his throat. Although it seemed clear Garrus meant to tease her, Thane suspected it carried a grain of truth. He'd never considered how their spending time together might look to the rest of the crew, how going to her cabin might be misconstrued as something … more than … more than two friends spending time together, sharing tea and conversation. Yet … it was something more to him, wasn't it? The thoughts tumbled around inside his head, creating shockwaves to ripple through the remnants of his battle sleep, forcing him to reevaluate his thoughts and behaviors towards the woman once more.

She snorted, slapping Garrus' chest again. "Please. Even if there was something going on between us, which there's not, you know damn well biology isn't that accommodating." She rocked her head back and forth against his shoulder. "He's just good to talk to," she said, voice so soft Thane almost didn't catch the words.

"Really?" Garrus shifted his brow plates upward. "I thought he was more what you humans call the 'strong silent type.'"

"I think he's just not really used to socializing, but he does alright when things are quiet and there's not a lot of people around," she said, and it pleased Thane to hear her defend him, even over something so simple. "He had some trouble adjusting to the ship, and sleep hasn't exactly been my best friend since all of this; he found me in the mess hall making tea one night and sat down with me to talk. He's actually been pretty good with helping me to deal with the whole being alive thing."

Thane smiled even as he warned himself against feeling the pride that pressed in against him.

"Well, I suppose if anyone would know the difference between alive and dead it'd be the assassin." Garrus let out a soft chuff. "You like him, though. I can still smell that much on you."

Thane's heart stuttered in his chest, head tilting to the side as he processed the statement. Surely Garrus only meant to toy with her, engage in the teasing banter they shared a moment before. He didn't truly mean to imply Shepard had a romantic interest in Thane. Though … it might explain some of the things he'd seen in her eyes while they talked, the way she always seemed to light up whenever her gaze found his in a crowd.

"Yeah, guess I do."

Indeed? That's … intriguing.

Thane didn't have the chance to fully consider her confession and what it meant to him before Garrus spoke again.

"Ordinarily, I'd tell you to go for it, Shepard. Leave Kaidan's crap in the past. If he's too blind to realize what a wonderful thing he had with you, then he doesn't deserve you." Garrus shifted to look down at her, his voice hesitant but filled with compassion as he said, "But Thane's sick, he said he doesn't have long left …."

The reminder hit Thane harder than expected, not as if he could ever forget his illness, but …. Garrus was right, and he was being foolish. He'd never felt a desire for someone of another species before, he wouldn't even know what to do. Even if he dared to entertain the idea of something more with Shepard—with anyone—it was not only unwise, but unfair to her. She struggled with accepting her own life, what would it do to her if he welcomed her embrace only to die within a few months time? That aside … he still mourned Irikah, and Shepard was the first person he'd allowed to get close to him since her death. What did he know of matters of the heart, his own led him astray once before? The reaction he had to hearing her admit her interest in him might be nothing more than him confusing the longing of friendship with genuine desire.

She closed her eyes, the corners of her mouth turning down. "I know," she said, voice sad and wistful. She let the silence stretch between them, her features relaxing once more, seeming to enjoy the contact and the comfort Garrus brought her. "If the Council doesn't get their heads out of their asses, none of us are going to have long left."

Garrus flicked his mandibles. "Then we'll just have to make them listen, yell loud enough, someone's bound to take notice, right?"

"Right." She sat up, and he let his arm fall away from her.

"And we both know you can yell pretty loud," he said with another smirk.

"Damn right, I can." She wrapped her fingers around the yoke of his armor and gave it a gentle shake. "Thanks, Garrus. I'm glad you're here. I know I've said it before, but really, I couldn't do this without you."

He patted her back. "There's nowhere I'd rather be, Shepard. Now, uh, if you'll excuse me," he said pushing up to his feet and looking down at her, "I believe there's some calibrations that need done."

She snorted. "Go ahead, junkie. Just know, one of these days, you're going to have to start talking about what's going on in that head of yours, too."

He took a deep breath, shoulders rising with the motion, and let it out slow. "Maybe, but not today."

She nodded. "Not today." Picking up her helmet, she stood, closed the shuttle door, and together they walked to the elevator, leaving Thane to sort through his thoughts in silence.