Red Welts
Having retreated to the relative safety of Life Support, Thane spent two hours pacing the floor, stopping periodically to rub his head and assure EDI he was not in need of medical attention. He'd developed … an attraction to Shepard. No, that was too calloused. A romantic interest, one which she apparently shared. And it felt like a betrayal to Irikah. He certainly didn't intend to pursue Shepard, at least not beyond friendship. Acknowledging his interest would allow him to control it, he just needed to submerse himself in something else. Perhaps spend his free time with more of the crew, allow new relationships to form.
The soft chime sounded, indicating the start of dinner being served in the mess hall. He looked up, turning toward the door. Why not start right away? He left Life Support, stepping out into the hall the same time as the Justicar who spent her time right next door to him in Starboard Observation. She smiled at him, and he dipped his head to her. He waited for her to pass, habit of courtesy as much as not really desiring to have the Justicar at his back, before following her into the mess hall. The tables were already beginning to fill, primarily with Cerberus crew members.
A line formed in front of the counter, and Gardner worked to dole out trays. Thane approached, taking up station behind Ms. Lawson. She glanced over her shoulder and then did a double take, looking at him again.
"Good evening, Ms. Lawson," he said when she met his gaze.
Curiosity filled her eyes as she turned sideways in the queue to address him, crossing her arms over her chest. "Thane, I'm surprised to see you. You don't normally join us for meals. Some of the crew were beginning to speculate as to whether or not you even eat."
Thane chuckled, tucking his hands behind his back. "I am not accustomed to taking my meals in the company of others, but I assure you, I do eat."
"Well of course you eat." She let out a scoff, but smiled, her gaze sweeping over the Cerberus crew enjoying their meal. "They don't truly believe you don't, they're just … bored, I suppose, and you remain a mystery to them." She turned, moving as the line shifted forward. Glancing over her shoulder again, she said, "I'm sure they'd lose interest in fabricating tall tales about you if they saw you more often. Drell aren't a well known species."
"Yes, I am aware." He tilted his head in agreement. "Our numbers are low, and we are not wide spread. Few of us ever make it beyond hanar controlled space."
She arched an eyebrow. "Which is precisely why Cerberus has no interest in studying the drell."
"You don't have to be rude, Miranda," the voice of Ms. Chambers came from behind him.
Thane turned, instantly spotting the shock of red hair belonging to Shepard a little further down the line. She grinned when he found her gaze, and the beast he was trying to escape within stirred awake, alert and focused on her. Interesting that she chose to stand in line with everyone else when her position aboard the ship gave her the right to move ahead of the queue. He smiled then tore his gaze away to take in Ms. Chambers, dipping his head to her. She beamed at him, eyelashes fluttering.
"I'm not being rude, I'm being practical. I meant no offense," Ms. Lawson said.
"Offense?" Zaeed scoffed, from just behind Ms. Chambers, following it with a rough, dry chuckle. "Hell, sweetheart, he probably feels relieved."
"Thane, the line is moving," Ms. Chambers said.
He glanced back to the front, seeing Ms. Lawson moved away from him while he tracked the other participants in the conversation, trying to formulate an appropriate response. "So it has, my apologies." He shuffled up closer to Ms. Lawson.
"I'm glad to see you decided to join us for dinner." Ms. Chambers moved out from behind him to stand at his side. "And please, don't let Miranda bother you, she's good at a lot of things, but diplomacy isn't one of them."
"I can hear you." Ms. Lawson glanced over her shoulder, narrowing her gaze at the other woman.
Ms. Chambers just smiled, though. "I know. I'm still hoping you'll change your mind about the social skills training I spoke to you about."
Ms. Lawson scoffed, rolling her eyes and turning back around. Ms. Chambers looked up at Thane, grinning. He chuckled, grateful for the woman's presence in a situation that otherwise left him feeling adrift.
He managed to make it through the line without changing his mind and excusing himself, only just. Ms. Chambers invited him to sit with her, so he followed her to the table of her choice and took a seat across from her. A moment later he felt a shift in the air next to him and turned to look at the empty seat to his left just as the Normandy's resident thief appeared, her tray materializing along with her.
Thane dipped his head. "Ms. Goto."
She grinned and waved a hand. "Please, Kasumi's fine."
"As you wish," he said, returning her smile.
Not long after, Garrus filled in the space to Thane's right, and Shepard sat across from him, next to Ms. Chambers. Thane found his gaze drifting back to her, time and time again. Every word she spoke captured his attention, her laughter bringing a smile to his face even when she wasn't speaking with him. He tried to focus on what the others around him were saying, reminded himself to join in on the conversations, but her very presence called to him like a beacon. He didn't even notice when Kasumi disappeared again, or when precisely Mordin replaced Ms. Chambers.
Garrus turned to him. "So, Thane. What exactly does one do to become an assassin?"
Thane raised a brow ridge. "Considering a change in profession?"
Garrus chuckled, mandibles fluttering as he shook his head. "No, just curious."
"I was trained as part of the Compact—ah, the agreement between the drell and hanar. I didn't begin freelancing until many years later." Thane waved a hand at nothing in particular. "By then, I'd already established contacts of my own and made a name for myself, so the transition wasn't difficult."
Garrus hummed."Why'd you decide to go freelance?"
Thane looked down at his plate, carefully setting his fork on the edge and picking up his glass of ice water. "I left the Compact to try my hand at other trades but found them … unfulfilling, so I returned to what I knew, what I was best at." He took a drink from the glass and sat it down again. "And you? You were with C-Sec before joining Shepard, as I recall. The Investigations Division, stationed in the Wards."
Flaring his mandibles, Garrus nodded. "That was eerily specific."
"Ah." Thane smirked. "I make it a point to familiarize myself with all local law enforcement wherever my targets are, it makes my contracts run more smoothly."
"Right," Garrus said, dragging the word out, obviously doubting Thane's word. "I left C-Sec over three years ago."
"Drell like salarians. Eidetic memory," Mordin spoke up, gaze remaining on a datapad he'd brought to the table with him. "Once acquired, information remains accessible for life. Method of recall different, however."
"Thane was on the Citadel during our investigation into Saren," Shepard said, and she smiled when Thane turned his attention to her. She glanced back at Garrus. "He watched my induction ceremony."
"Ah, first human Spectre. Would've liked to have been there." Mordin looked up at Shepard. "Saw rebroadcast on news days later, less impact than in person."
Garrus hummed, studying Thane. "Kind of makes me rethink some of my old homicide cold cases."
Thane smirked. "Indeed."
He didn't stay much longer, the conversation moving on around him as he cleared his plate. He excused himself, feeling Shepard's gaze on him as he returned his tray to Gardner and made his way back to Life Support. He let out a heavy breath when the door slid closed behind him.
He spent an hour in meditation, blessedly finding the quiet within once again, and with it, some clarity. Perhaps he should reach out to Kolyat. He was nearing the end of his life, and Kolyat was grown, it wasn't as if Thane would be taking on the care of a small child. Only, he expected Kolyat to hate him, but if that was what truly kept Thane from contacting his son, then he was a coward. He owed it to Kolyat; his son deserved to know the truth about his mother and about Thane's absence. He deserved the chance to yell and rage at Thane, and … to tell Thane goodbye.
Resolved, he pushed himself to his feet just as EDI announced Shepard's presence at his door. He bid her to enter, tucking his hands behind his back as the door slid open. She lingered in the doorway, hand resting on the frame for a moment before she bit the corner of her lip.
"Shepard. Do you need something?" He turned to hold his hand out at the table. "Please, come in."
She stepped inside, just far enough for the door to slide closed behind her but no further. She crossed her arms, almost as if she were hugging herself. "I just checked my messages and found a report from EDI."
"Ah." He lowered his gaze.
"When I asked her about it, she said you suggested she send it to me."
"Indeed." He met her gaze again. "The … topic came up in discussion over what she reports to the Illusive Man. When I learned you weren't made aware of the arrangements made concerning you, I suggested I thought you'd wish to know."
"Yeah, well … I just came down here to tell you I'm fine. They're overreacting, and I didn't realize they were that involved. I'm not suicidal, Christ, and I certainly don't need them treating you like … like—like my goddamn babysitter or something." Her face flushed red, brow a deep furrow. "I'm sorry they put that on you. I'm sorry I put that on you. Sorry if I worried you."
He took a few, hesitant steps closer to her, but she only looked away from him. "You have nothing to apologize to me for, Jane." He stopped, tucking his hands behind his back, wishing she'd look at him again. "I enjoy our time together, and I … I am honored that you are willing to discuss such thoughts with me. I don't know what I did to deserve your trust, but it's important to me."
"I should go." She turned around so swiftly, it left him dazed as her hand reached for the door's control.
"Siha …" The word slipped out of him before he thought about whether or not it was wise.
She stopped, hand hovering over the lock. Her head lowered, shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry," she whispered and hit the door's release control, stepping out before the door even opened completely.
Thane stood there, speechless, feeling helpless for several minutes as his mind shifted back and forth between the idea of going after her and giving her space. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath and let it out slow, turning away from the door. He went and stood next to the observation window, looking out over the drive core for awhile before eventually deciding to change and go to bed. Sleep fought him, every little noise leaving him hoping it was Shepard returning to talk to him, but eventually he settled into unconsciousness.
He stood on the deserted shores of the island he grew up on, warm rain pelting him, stinging against his face and bare chest. Hanar danced on the waves just beyond the break, their bioluminescence barely reaching his eyes, despite the thick, near-black, storm clouds hanging overhead, casting the beach in twilight. He turned, spotting a familiar shape further down the beach, and smiled. "Irikah?" He blinked, moving towards the shape, picking up speed until he ran harder, faster than he could ever remember, the pain in his lungs be damned.
The closer he got, though, the more he realized something was wrong. It wasn't Irikah, it couldn't be. Irikah was dead, she died defending their son. Because of him. She died because of him. He tried to stop, even just slow down, but his feet continued to propel him forward. The woman turned, showing him her face, and it was like being struck by lightning.
He dropped to his knees, throwing his arms out before him in supplication. "Kalahira." The name spilled from his trembling lips, fear wrapping a tight fist around his heart. He thought he was ready … thought he'd welcome Kalahira's embrace when the time came to carry him across the sea, but there, in that moment, he felt terrified. I don't want to die, he thought.
"None ever do, but it is not yet your time."
Thane's eyes snapped opened, the dream already fading from consciousness as he strained to listen, hearing the door to Life Support hiss. Darkness surrounded him, the soft glow of the drive core casting the room in shadows. He stood on silent feet, moving to the edge of the wall his cot was pushed against and peered around the edge, prepared to defend himself should the need arise.
Shepard stood in his doorway, just over the threshold, not yet far enough in for the door to close behind her. Dim light from the hall spilled in behind her, doing little to help him make out her features, but her shape was unmistakable. He heard her ragged breathing from where he stood, understanding immediately she fought to control tears.
"Jane?" He moved away from the wall, stepping out where she might see him.
She wiped at her face. "I'm sorry, I should've asked EDI if you were awake." She backed away, moving over the threshold and out into the light.
He stepped closer, the tears trickling down her face calling to him. "It's no bother … are you well?" He stopped when she turned her head away, looking down the hall, and the light caught on fresh, red welts along her throat.
"I—" She turned back to him, horror sweeping over her face, turning her skin a deathly pale. Her hand crept up toward her neck, mouth working soundlessly before she sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Squeezing her eyes closed forced more tears to spill down her face.
Closing the distance between them, he reached out, settling his hand on her arm. "Siha, what—" He started to ask what happened, but before the words left his mouth, she stepped closer, almost falling against him as she dropped her forehead to his shoulder.
She let out a low, mournful keen, and her whole body shook with her sobs. He hadn't expected so much contact when he'd reached for her, the warmth of her face and arms against his bare scales froze his mind for a second, two sets of instincts warring with one another until at last the one demanding he comfort her proved victorious, and he wrapped his arms around her. He urged her inside, glancing out and down the hall to be sure they weren't watched.
The door slid closed behind them, and not knowing what else to do, he led her to his cot. He guided her down to sit on the edge, intending to pull the chair over for himself, but she clung to him, so he sat down next to her. She leaned into him, face buried against his shoulder and neck, gasps of breath hot against his frills, fingers clinging to his bare shoulder and chest. Tears, warm at first but quickly cooling, slid down his scales.
He wasn't good with emotion, not in himself, not in another. He never really knew what to say or do, how to provide comfort. Irikah cried like this a few times early in their relationship, when her father went to the sea, when weeks of research performed over countless sleepless nights had been lost by mistake, when she was pregnant with Kolyat, not working herself, and he failed to keep yet another job because he couldn't tolerate the conditions under which he was expected to work. At first, she would come to him in those moments, share her grief with him, and cry on his shoulder much as Shepard did … but he failed to provide her the comfort she needed, didn't have the words to soothe her aching soul, and so, eventually she stopped. There was a time he was foolish enough to believe she simply hadn't the need, but later he realized, she just kept her anguish to herself.
He didn't wish to invalidate Irikah's pain in those moments, but her complaints seemed trivial compared to the things Shepard experienced and continued to struggle with, leaving him even more helpless, at a loss as to how to help. He searched his mind, looking for times when he'd seen others comfort each other or been comforted himself. The most vibrant memory came from his childhood, from before he was given to the Compact, when his mother would sing to him. And so he sang, or rather hummed, not quite giving voice to the lyrics of the song so as not to insult her with tender words meant for a child, but letting his vocal chords mimic the sweet sound of her voice, even if they weren't truly able to match the pitch. His hand began to move, nearly of its own accord, making broad, sweeping circles against her back, just as his mother had done for him all those years ago.
Within a few seconds, the keening cut off, the sobs becoming less vocal until eventually they stopped altogether. Soon, her tears ceased, and her breathing steadied out, coming at a regular, gentler pace. He continued to hum and rub her back, content to let her stay there, pressed against him, seemingly soothed by his touch and the sound of his voice until she no longer wished to be. As the song came to an end, he prepared himself to start over, but she separated herself from him.
Sniffing, she wiped at her face, the glow of the drive core turning her skin an ethereal blue in the otherwise dark room. "Sorry," she said, the word cracking in her throat.
"There is no need," he said, keeping his voice low.
She let out a soft scoff and shook her head. "This is completely unprofessional." Letting out a rueful chuckle, she followed it with a groan and scrubbed her hands over her face. "EDI, please turn the lights on, but keep them low."
"Yes, Shepard," EDI said, her voice just as gentle and low as Thane's a moment before, as if the AI felt hesitant to intrude on the moment and experienced empathy for Shepard's plight.
The lights turned on, to a setting he presumed to be calculator for optimal comfort for a distraught human's eyes. Perhaps a setting Shepard used herself in her cabin. It was more than enough for him to see her clearly, to see the scratch marks over her throat, others trailing away behind her hair towards the back of her neck. Blood welled in a few places, the lacerations not quite deep enough to allow it to do more than bead along the surface.
Sniffing again, she looked at him and then grimaced. Reaching out, she swiped a hand over his shoulder and chest, smearing tears across his scales and huffed. "God, I soaked you."
"It will dry." He lifted a hand and hesitated, but she didn't move away from him, so he brushed her hair back, exposing the scratches at the sides and back of her neck and leaned to the side to get a better look. "You're bleeding." Letting the strands of red silk slip through his fingers, he brought his hand to rest on his thigh, watching her intently, hoping she wouldn't make him have to ask what happened.
She averted her gaze and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "They're just scratches, they'll be gone in a few hours. It happened in my sleep, it wasn't on purpose, if that's what you're thinking."
"Not at all," he said, taken aback by the defensiveness in her tone. "I only wished to understand what happened, what troubles you. I didn't intend to cause offense, my apologies."
She let out a deflated sigh, shoulders slumping. Turning her gaze to him once more, she shook her head. "No, I'm the one barging in on you in the middle of the night," her gaze drifted over his chest, the color rushing to her face before she looked away again, "while you're half-dressed and probably sleeping. Crying like a damn infant. Shit, maybe I do need you as a babysitter." She snorted, a soft, barely audible sound, and glanced at him again, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smirk. "I'm pretty sure that was a lullaby you just used to pacify me."
Embarrassed by his obvious lack of finesse when it came to certain social situations, heat crept into his frills and he brought his fist to his mouth, coughing gently. "I—It was the first thing to come to mind, I didn't mean to imply—"
She chuckled, leaning over to bump her shoulder against his, much the way he'd seen Garrus do to her earlier in the day. "Relax. It was nice, I liked it. And it did the trick. I tell you what, you don't tell anyone Commander Shepard was crying like a baby, and I won't tell anyone Mr. Badass Assassin sings lullabies."
"Agreed." He chuckled, searching her face as she stared off towards the drive core.
Turning her attention back to him, she scraped her teeth over her lip and said, "I dreamed about getting spaced again." She folded one of shoulders inwards towards her chest; apparently her renewed composure came with the need to deflect and minimize. "I guess I scratched myself up trying to find the breach in my suit while dreaming." Blowing out a breath, she puffed out her cheeks. "I didn't mean to come in here like this, a sobbing mess. I don't even know why it hit me so hard. Just a stressful day, I guess. Anyway, I was just looking for a distraction, and I thought you might still be up."
"I'm glad you came to me." He dipped his head a little to catch her gaze again, her normally emerald eyes dulled to a hunter green in the dim light. "After we last spoke, I feared I had ruined our … friendship with my attempts to help."
She gave him a gentle smile. "Nah, it's not that easy to get rid of me. I just needed time to put my thoughts in order. Though I guess it didn't do a whole lot of good." She turned her attention to the floor and sat in silence for a moment. "Huh," she said, "Your toes have webbing, too."
Surprised at the discordant observation, he laughed. "Indeed."
She turned back to him, eyes bright despite the low light and grinned. "I should get out of here, let you get back to sleep." Pushing off the cot, she stood, turning a little to face him as he looked up at her. "Garrus said there's already rumors flying about over us spending so much time together. Don't need to give the scuttlebutt anymore fuel." She snorted when he drew his brow ridges in with confusion. "Gossip, it just means gossip."
"Ah. I don't care what the others think." He stood, somehow more aware of her proximity once on his feet and facing her than he was a moment before with her sitting next to him, shoulder to shoulder. "You are the first friend I've had in ten years. I am here for you, Jane. Whenever you need me."
She slid her hand into his, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Thane." Her hand slipped away again, gone far too quickly, and she stepped around him. "Goodnight."
"Rest well, siha."