Disconnected

Thane stared at the message, nictitating membrane sliding back and forth across his eyes as he tried to process what the words on his omni-tool's screen said.

How could this happen?

He'd reached out to some of his old contacts, trying to learn where his son went after leaving Kahje. It surprised him to learn Kolyat left Kahje at all, but Irikah's siblings assured him that Kolyat left a little over a year before. They hadn't spoken to him in months, but promised to contact Thane should they hear from him. Theodus located him on the Citadel, and Avalina reported finding Thane's lockbox with the volus banker, Palun Dakur, recorded access by Kolyat. And then, the worst thing, the thing Thane hoped to save Kolyat from … Jasper informed him that Kolyat accepted a contract to kill someone.

"I can't allow this to happen," Thane said, only tangentially aware he'd spoken the words aloud. "EDI, where is Shepard?"

"Shepard is in her cabin. Is there something you would like for me to tell her?"

He didn't hesitate, sucking in a breath. "I need to speak with her, urgently."

The AI stayed quiet for a few seconds and then said, "She asked for you come to her cabin."

"Very well, I will go now." Thane left Life Support before she had the chance to respond. The elevator opened for him, the car empty, before he even arrived. "Thank you, EDI," he said, stepping inside.

"You are welcome," she said as the doors slid closed.

The elevator started to lift without him even needing to push the button. Ordinarily, he might find it somewhat discomforting to know just how much control the Cerberus AI had over the Normandy, but his thoughts were otherwise preoccupied with his son. The elevator stopped, the door sliding opened again. As soon as his foot touched down in the foyer, the door to Shepard's cabin slid open as well.

"I'm down here." Her voice carried through the cabin, meeting him in the foyer.

Thane made his way down the stairs, stopping a few feet from her and tucking his hands behind his back. "Shepard, sorry to intrude, but I have something urgent I need to speak with you about."

Her hair appeared wet, and he smelled the scents of her soaps in the air, yet there wasn't the heavy, suffocating feel of humidity. He realized the soft hum af the air filtration system in her cabin sounded louder than before; it must be working to pull out the excess moisture, likely for his sake. He wondered if it was her idea or EDI's.

She pulled on a boot, glancing up at him as she tied the laces and lifted an eyebrow. "So, this is a Shepard conversation and not a Jane conversation?"

He lowered his gaze, looking at the floor in front of him, guilt washing over him. "Indeed, my apologies. I know you've just returned from Pragia and probably hoped to relax."

"You don't need to apologize, Thane." She slipped on her other boot and tied off the laces before standing, facing him at parade rest when he met her gaze again. "Just making sure I'm using the right mental gears is all. What can I do for you?"

"I—" He brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing his fingers back and forth across his brow and shook his head. "I'm afraid I have made a terrible mistake."

"Alright," she said slowly. "Start from the top, tell me what happened."

Meeting her gaze again, he nodded absently. "Thank you."

"Sure. Do you want to sit down?" She gestured at the couch.

"No—not just yet." He glanced around the cabin, gaze sweeping over the couches, tables, her bed, and wardrobe in his search for a sense of grounding. "I feel like I need—I don't know what I need." He let out a sigh and turned his attention back to her.

She offered him a warm smile, but he found it lacking something, missing the personal feel it held when they talked as friends. As it should be, just then. "It's alright, take your time."

"My time, yes, perhaps that is part of the problem." He lifted the corner of his mouth in a self-deprecating smirk. "I have stayed lost in my battle sleep for far too long, apathetic to the galaxy around me. Now, after ten years, it is failing me, and it may be too late."

Her eyebrow twitched, but whatever question she filled her thoughts, she didn't give voice to. Instead, she stood in silence, watching him and waiting.

"I decided to trace my son, Kolyat. I thought perhaps if I assured myself he was doing well, I could face this mission in peace, the … emotions breaking through my battle sleep might leave me be." He turned, pacing over to stand in front of the fish tank, looking inside. "He has become disconnected, and I am to blame."

She moved to stand a couple of feet away from him, and he turned to face her. "What's happened?" she asked, voice calm yet commanding.

"Years ago, I prepared a package for him. A relic of my ill-spent life. I hired volus bankers to store it and arranged for delivery when I died." Thane took a breath and turned his attention back to the fish tank, finding some measure of tranquility in the blue and pink fish swimming past. "I did wet work on the Citadel around the time his mother died. That may be why he went there. Whatever the reason, he acquired the package early and now has taken a job as a hit man." Meeting her gaze once more, he said, "I never wanted this for him, Shepard. When his mother—when Irikah died …." He trailed off, eyes losing focus as the memory started to overcome him.

Then, someone touched him and a gentle, stern voice called his name as his fingers closed around a wrist. He blinked, releasing his grip on her arm before instinct drove him to break the delicate bones. "Ah." He tucked his hand behind his back once more. "My apologies, and thank you."

She pulled her hand away, crossing her arms loosely over her chest and leaned against the fish tank. "No problem."

"Her death was my fault. The men who killed her did so as revenge against me. They would have killed Kolyat, too, had she not heard them coming and hid him." He bowed his head. "I left him with his mother's family, because I did not know how to be a father. My entire life has been this one thing, I couldn't even set it aside to be a father and a husband. I never wanted Kolyat to know this about me, but I felt leaving this life without providing him something, some kind of explanation … I never imagined he might decide to take on this life of sin."

She swallowed audibly but remained silent for long seconds. At last she asked, "Do you know who he's planning on killing, or who hired him?"

"I do not." He met her gaze, using her emerald eyes as an anchor, feeling on the verge of losing himself again. The memories of Kolyat as a child pressed in tight around him, insistent with his fear for his son.

She raised an eyebrow, chin shifting downward a fraction. "But he's on the Citadel?"

He gave her a curt nod. "He is."

Shepard glanced over her shoulder towards the AI access node. "EDI? Redirect us to the Citadel."

The blue hologram popped up. "Right away, Shepard."

Relief sweeping over him, Thane touched her elbow, drawing her attention back to him. "Thank you, siha," he said, shifting to the term of … endearment as a means of letting her know he'd concluded his need for formality and to deepen his expression of gratitude.

She smiled, the mask of command slipping just a little as she nodded her head. "Of course. Do you feel like sitting now? I have a couple of questions." It appeared she, however, was not yet finished doing her job.

He let go of her, tucking his hands behind his back and dipped his head. "As you wish."

They moved to the couch, and Thane sat closer than last time, taking the seat two down from her instead of moving to the other section. He wanted to be closer to her, and he wasn't in the mindset to chastise himself for feeding the feelings he developed for the woman. He wanted to pull her into his arms, feel her pressed against his chest again, and tell her how incredibly grateful he felt towards her for being so willing to aid him, but that, at least, he would refrain from.

She turned, sitting sideways to face him, and draped her arm over the back of the couch. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean by battle sleep or disconnected. Can you explain those to me?"

"Ah, of course. Perhaps you call it something else?" He raised a brow ridge, turning a little more to face her. "Battle sleep is … putting your soul to sleep so your body may do what it must, fight and kill, without remorse or spending precious seconds weighing your actions, when you … exist on reflex." He waved a hand at her. "You've done this yourself, I've seen the change in you in battle."

She nodded, seeming to think on his words before turning her head to the side, gaze narrowing. "Wait, are you saying you've spent the last ten years existing in that state?"

"Indeed." He dipped his head. "After Irikah's death … I saw no reason to wake my soul again." It felt so odd, saying her name aloud, especially to a woman he felt something for. "I—my body hunted down the men responsible for her death and killed them." He lowered his gaze, giving his head a light shake. "No, I suppose that isn't entirely true. I chose to kill the men responsible the moment I returned to my battle sleep, knowing the instinct to avenge my wife ran strong through my veins. The only lives I have ever chosen on my own accord to take, their blood stains my soul—I must accept it. I did not … I was not merciful, their deaths were not swift." He searched her face, relieved at finding no sign of harsh judgement in her eyes.

After a long stretch of silence in which she watched him, her thoughts and emotions a complete mystery to him as nothing showed on her face, she said, "That's an awfully long time to stay detached, Thane. What's changed? You said it's failing you now."

He looked at her for a few seconds, blinking several times before finally saying, "As I said the other night, it's been ten years since I've had a friend, someone who doesn't fear me, who's interested in sitting and talking with me … sharing themselves with me."

Eyebrows arching, she asked, "Are you—are you saying I woke you up from this battle sleep?"

"Indeed, though even now I cling to the tattered pieces of what remains." He took a deep breath, ordering his thoughts. "The awareness which seeps in just before waking, where if whatever has disturbed your sleep doesn't persist, you can easily slip away again."

Pain flashed through her eyes, bright and clear, forcing him to fight the urge to wince. "I'm disturbing you?"

"No—not disturbing me. I've given you the wrong idea." He looked away from her, out across the room at the open shutters above her bed, distracting himself from the look in her eyes. "Have you ever stepped into a hot shower when your limbs are nearly numb with cold? You know that given time, your body will adjust, but initially the sensation is uncomfortable, painful, even."

"And if you start with a cooler temperature and work your way up, it takes longer to get warm, but it's easier on your body to adjust."

"Precisely," he said, turning his gaze back to her, relieved once again to see her eyes clear of emotion.

She nodded, seeming lost in thought. "So, what's disconnected mean for drell?"

"I suppose some might see it as no different in nature than battle sleep." He turned more, mirroring her posture. "Drell view the body as a vessel working together with the soul to form a whole person. When one becomes disconnected, their body and soul no longer work together as one." He lifted his fingers up from the back of the couch, only a few inches away from her own, in gesture. "When the soul is weakened by despair or fear, or the body injured or ill, the individual becomes disconnected, no longer whole. A body, disconnected from its soul, does what it will. Battle sleep is a choice, something which comes with training and discipline, though I suppose for some it is less so, but being disconnected is never a choice."

She pursed her lips for a moment. "Do you think Kolyat became disconnected because he received your package?"

"I fear it is the case, and I am haunted by the idea he may have accepted this contract to be closer to me." Thane looked down at his other hand resting on his knee. "I thought by leaving him with his aunts and uncles, though he may hate me for it, he would have a better life without me present. I fear it was a mistake."

"You can't change what's already happened, but you're not dead yet, Thane." The defiance in her voice brought his attention back to her. Her gaze latched onto his, holding him prisoner. "We'll find Kolyat, and with a little luck, we'll keep him from making this mistake. You still have time to get to know your son and let him get to know you." She smiled, casting aside her formal reserve and showing him the woman he'd come to know in the quiet nights spent conversing. Her eyes conveyed a warmth and kindness leaving him a little breathless. "For what it's worth, I think you're a great person, whether or not you're an assassin, and as you said, he's an adult now, let it be his choice."

He returned her smile, pushing aside the urge to reach out and touch her, it wasn't she who needed to be reminded she was alive in the moment, but him. "You are wise beyond your years, Jane."

She chuckled, skin creasing at the corners of her eyes. "You say that as if you're an old man."

"No, just older than you," he said, grinning at her, amazed at how much the sound of her laughter had come to please him.

Snorting she shook her head, glancing away. "I missed lunch, I was going to ask Kelly to bring me up something. Figured I'd relax up here for awhile, maybe look at some reports. But, if you want to stick around for a bit, I can ask her to bring a plate for you, too." Turning her gaze back to him, she smirked. "It'd be the perfect reason to procrastinate."

Thane thought about all the excuses he could use to decline, all the reasons he should, but … he just didn't want to. Smiling, he dipped his head. "I would like that."

Joy seemed to dance in her eyes, but it barely reached her lips. He wondered if she struggled with her emotions, fighting to keep from expressing her interest in him. For a moment, he felt ashamed for having eavesdropped on such a personal conversation, and hearing her confession to Garrus made it so much more difficult for him to keep himself from embracing his own feelings, nurturing them, pursuing something more with Shepard. He watched her as she used her omni-tool to call down to Kelly, brushing her hair behind her ear, and for one insane moment, he allowed himself to imagine the feel of her hair running through his fingers, imagined tracing the curve of her ear.

Swallowing, he tore his gaze away from her and pushed himself to his feet, moving to stand in front of the fish tank. A moment later she joined him, standing within arms reach, her hands tucked behind her back as she watched the fish swim by.

"I don't know why I bought them," she said.

He turned to her, lifting a brow ridge in question when she met his gaze.

"The fish." She nodded her head towards the tank. "I forget to feed them sometimes, and without ever knowing how long a mission will take … three have died on me already." She scrunched up her nose. "I'm a terrible person. I don't forget to feed the hamster, but the hamster's different, I only need to fill his bowls once every few days."

"If you'd like," he said, then hesitated, questioning his motivations for making such an offer, "I can feed them for you when you're gone—assuming I'm not on mission with you." He smiled, shaking his head at himself. "I won't forget, and I'm sure EDI can remind you when you are here."

"Would you like for me to set reminders, Shepard?" EDI's voice filled the cabin.

Shepard chuckled. "Sure, thanks, EDI." Pursing her lips a little, she nodded at Thane. "Alright, if you're positive you don't mind?"

"Not at all." He turned his gaze back to the fish, focusing on steadying his breathing. "Have you fed them today?"

She laughed, and he saw her nod in his peripherals. "Yeah, I fed them not too long ago." Turning to face him, she leaned against the tank, arms crossed. "Can I ask you something?"

The seriousness of her tone demanded his full attention, so he faced her, dipping his head. "As you wish."

Her lips parted, but she hesitated, brow drawing in a little. When she spoke, her words came slow, as if chosen with caution and concern for how they might impact him. "If people were able to track down Irikah and Kolyat once, what made you think they couldn't find him again if they wanted to? You didn't think he'd be safer with you there to protect him?"

He lowered his gaze, watching as she shifted her feet, one boot sliding a couple of inches toward him, as if she wanted to come closer. He'd considered the very idea many times before, constantly wondering if Kolyat would be more or less at risk if he'd stayed on Kahje, refused to ever leave Kolyat's side. It was a gamble, either way, and sometimes he thought his odds were greater returning to Kahje, other days it seemed like the thing most certain to lead to Kolyat's death. When he didn't say anything after a moment, she did move, taking a step and a half closer to him.

"Thane," she said, voice filled with regret. "I'm not judging you, or blaming you or anything. I'm just trying to understand." She reached for him, but he pretended not to see her hand as he turned, making his way back to the couch.

"I didn't know. I could never know." He took a deep breath, pushing out the tails of his jacket as he sat on the edge of the couch. Glancing up, he watched her as she followed him back over to the couch. "But I needed to believe if someone else decided to come for me, it was best if I did not lead them directly to Kolyat myself."

She seemed to weigh his words a moment and then nodded as she took her seat, drawing one knee up onto the cushion and pressing her back against the arm of the couch so she faced him. "I guess that make sense. Do his aunts and uncles know what you do for a living?"

"No." He rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands. "Irikah just told them I was away on business." Lowering his gaze to the table, he shook his head, sadness and regret flooding his heart. "I was always away on business." He turned his head to look at her. "I abandoned them, Jane." He expected to see—needed to see—disgust in her eyes at the announcement, but instead he only saw confusion, and maybe a hint of shock.

Blinking her eyes, she recovered quickly enough. "What do you mean?"

"I … I felt so intimidated, discouraged by my own failings, my inadequacies as a father and a husband, I just let myself slip away. Started taking jobs further away from home, staying gone for longer stretches of time. Eventually I stopped returning between contracts." He searched her gaze, realizing he wished she'd reach out for him again despite knowing, if anything, what he said might push her further away. "I never meant to … I didn't intend to stay gone forever, but I allowed myself to become complacent, believing they would always be there waiting for me to return. Believing I was good enough at my profession to leave nothing behind for anyone to ever trace back to me or my family. I left them unprotected. I abandoned them."

She pulled her arms in around herself, wedging her right elbow against the back of the couch, resting her thumb against her lips. After a moment, she asked, "What made you think you were such a bad father and husband? Because you weren't able to make it work out doing other jobs?"

He gave her a slow, shallow nod. "In part, yes. There were other things, though." Glancing out over the room, his gaze shifted back to the window above her bed, the stars passing them by, white streaks beyond the glass. "When our marriage was young, and Kolyat was first born, I felt so much love and happiness. I didn't know how to make everything work out, but I remained determined to find a way." The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile as he remembered how clueless and lost he'd been. "She taught me things a man my age should have already known, how to hold an infant, how to bathe them and feed them … I did my best, at first, investing myself as completely as I could, but over the years, I found I could no more sustain that level of affection and attention than I could handle working menial labor."

Sighing, he waved his hand. "I found myself becoming easily frustrated by the mundane, distracted by the next potential contract, it was as if the stars pulled at me, demanded I move. Amonkira called me to find new quarry to hunt." Clasping his hands once more, he recalled his thoughts on Irikah he had while consoling Shepard. "When Irikah would come to me, upset over one thing or another, I was at a loss as to how to make her feel better, eventually I stopped trying so hard. And eventually, she stopped coming to me with her hurts." He frowned. "Kolyat would come to me, trying his best to capture my attention, and I would give it to him … for a minute or two at a time, setting him aside as soon as my console beeped, notifying me of an update on my next contract."

He turned his attention back to Shepard, finding her watching him intently. "When he behaved in ways I now know were perfectly normal for a boy his age, I often felt appalled. Those behaviors weren't tolerated in my training, we were taught discipline, self-control early on. I didn't know how to react, how to treat him in those moments." He lowered his head, gaze landing on Shepard's waist before he shifted his attention back to the window above the bed. "Irikah's friends and family would often give me strange looks, whisper about me when they thought I wasn't listening, telling one another how bad they felt for Irikah and for Kolyat to have such a distant and cold husband and father."

"Shepard, Yeoman Chambers has arrived. Shall I let her inside?" EDI asked, and Thane turned his head to look at Shepard once more.

She turned, looking back towards the AI's hologram despite not being able to see it from where she sat. "Ah, no, I'll meet her at the door. Thanks, EDI." Glancing back at Thane, she said, "Give me a minute."

He dipped his head, and she stood, heading up the stairs. He listened as she opened the door, hers and Ms. Chambers' voices trailing back to him. Ms. Chambers made attempts to engage Shepard in conversation, inquiring about her wellbeing, but Shepard shut her down, a certain level of coldness to her voice, the same as he'd heard the night she learned of the yeoman's machinations to, in effect, use Thane as Shepard's counselor. He'd hoped she might forgive Ms. Chambers, who undoubtedly only held Shepard's best interests at heart. At least as far as that rationale was concerned.

A moment later, Shepard returned, carrying a tray on each upturned palm. He stood, moving to her as she made her way down the stairs, taking a tray from her. Heading back to the couch, he rounded the table to sit down, sliding his tray on the table. She sat closer to him, sharing the table's surface with him as settled her tray down.

"You didn't have many friends of your own, did you?" Her gaze flicked to him as she arranged her bowl and glass to her liking. "Other men, husbands and fathers, you could talk to about these things?"

"I—no. I've never been especially good at making friends of my own, and though many of Irikah's friends had husbands, my contact with them was superficial at best." He lifted the lid off the shallow bowl and sat it aside. "There was one person, a man several years older than me, who belonged to the Compact. He'd been trained in the peacekeepers faction—ah, not too unlike C-Sec, I suppose. I confided in him on occasion. He knew what I did, knew I started in the Compact, but he neither married nor fathered any children."

"A lot of what you're saying sounds common to me, well, at least with human men." She shrugged, picking up her spoon and scooping up some of the asari gumbo Gardner seemed so interested in making. "But especially those who didn't grow up in particularly warm and loving homes. Most of the time finding others to sort of … model themselves after, I guess, seems to help."

"I wish I could say it simply wasn't an option for me, but I won't do you the disservice of lying to you." He took a sip of the ice water accompanying his meal. "I never had the notion to look for something like that with another, let alone the courage to try to form those bonds, to try and let myself grow close to someone else, when I couldn't even handle the love my wife and child gave me."

She frowned, turning her attention to her tray, mouth taking on a downward cast. After a moment, she sighed. "How do you feel about seeing Kolyat now?"

"Terrified," he said, not needing to contemplate his answer.

Looking up at him, she searched his face, spoon still held in her hand, food waiting to be eaten. "You really think he'll hate you?"

He raised a brow ridge, picking up his own spoon. "Wouldn't you?"

"I—I don't know." She looked down at her hand. "Maybe at first … but I think once I got over the initial shock, I'd be glad to have the chance to see my father again if I were him." Finally, she took her first bite, watching him as she chewed.

He considered her words for a moment, dipping into his gumbo. "I pray you are right."

"It's probably not my place to say, but I'm glad you decided to look for him. Even if all of this about being disconnected wasn't the case. I think it's good." She gave him a soft smile when he met her gaze again. "For both of you."

Blinking once, he found his own lips turning up in a smile, and he gave her a bemused shake of his head.

"What?" she asked, smile growing as she raised an eyebrow.

"My apologies, it's just …" he said, smile widening as he let his gaze roam over her features, "... sometimes, you astound me."

She let out a chuckle, both eyebrows arching high. "Astound you? How so?"

"You are so compassionate. It is kind of you to be concerned with what is good for a dying man and his son you've never met." He brought his spoon to his mouth.

Her smile faltered, eyebrows easing back down her face. "I don't think of you as 'a dying man', Thane. I think of you as someone I've come to care about … who happens to be ill. Why wouldn't I be concerned with what's good for you and your son?"

Brow ridges dipping inward, he shook his head, hastily chewing and swallowed. "Forgive me." He took a sip of his water, wiping the napkin over his mouth. "I didn't mean … there are so few I have encountered in my life who are capable of thinking beyond themselves and … I—I suppose I admire you, Jane." Sweet Arashu, but she did turn him into a floundering fool at times. "Despite the things you have endured, and the things you still struggle with—both personally and professionally—you still care."

A blush spread out over her face, and she averted her gaze. "I think maybe the things I've been through and the things I struggle with make me care more."

"Indeed." He reached out without really meaning to, settling his hand on her shoulder, and she met his gaze again, emerald eyes wide and searching his. "It is a beautiful thing, something the galaxy needs far more of."

She scoffed but smiled, reaching over to pat his knee. "What the galaxy needs more of is people in positions of authority who don't have their heads shoved up their asses and are willing to listen to reason."

He laughed, letting his hand fall away from her shoulder. "You make a fair point."