Mass Effect 1. The Happy Warrior

_**A/N - Greetings to any who stop by.**_

_**This fic is more of character study of Thane than anything else. Naturally it is heavy on angst, flavored with a little romance and a nice portion of smut. _**I hope you will stay with me, as the chapters generally improve and lengthen as the story progresses. I tend to think of this fic as sort of a "slow burn," and it does heat up nicely.**_**_

_**"Returning" begins toward the end of Mass Effect and continues post-game around chapter 8. I have endeavored to write something primarily in-cannon, but for the most part I am not recreating scenes. Shep has a generic appearance here since I know we all have our own vision of her. As I started writing after my first playthrough, she is a Paragon Soldier.**_

**_While I initially planned at least four or five more chapters for this story, romanced-Thane's conclusion in Mass Effect 3 left a rather bad taste in my mouth, and I'm afraid I lost my enthusiasm to continue. I'm calling it complete at this time, though I may add more in the future. On a positive note, this story concludes in a good place right now, I think._**

_**Much love and thanks to strangegibbon for the tremendous amount of time she has put into correcting my work and providing feedback.**_

**_Mass Effect is the property of Bioware; quotes belong to their respective owners. I make no money from this story._**

_**...**_

"_Who is the happy Warrior? Whose powers shed round her in the common strife a constant influence, a peculiar grace…" - adapted from "The Happy Warrior" by William Wordsworth_

_..._

Thane squatted down, balancing his weight on his toes, back straight as always and hands clasped low before him, watching Shepard. He looked over his Siha carefully, reassuring himself that she had made it back to the Normandy uninjured.

Her armored legs were stretched out carelessly on the floor as she leaned back against the wall of the airlock, twisting her helmet off and letting it clatter to the floor. She sighed as her head thunked against the metal behind her, neck at an awkward angle, eyes closed and hair damp. She was still breathing hard from the final run and jump away from the imminent destruction of the derelict Reaper. Grunt remained standing, grim and unmoving on the other side of the damaged geth they had salvaged on the way out by throwing it directly through the airlock hatch.

Thane's chest constricted painfully as he pulled deep breaths as far into his lungs as he could manage. He did his best to ignore it; the discomfort was unimportant.

Shepard's eyes flicked open just as Thane felt the final blast of the Reaper's failure pushing the Normandy further into space. She searched his face for a moment before she looked down at the Geth, frowning, and he realized she was wondering whether she had made the right choice in bringing it aboard.

Thane did not doubt her. Shepard's instincts were infallible.

During their pursuit of his much-loved Kolyat, he had observed that she was thoughtful in communication and negotiation, preferring to talk her way through difficult circumstances where possible, turning to brute force only when she had exhausted other methods. Cautious when advancing into the danger of battle, she preferred to hang back with him as she examined the field. She would stay at his side before necessity or her frustration at her lesser sniping skills drove her forward and away from him, seeking out closer enemies with her assault rifle. Even where she acted quickly, her decisions were invariably correct.

A perfectly formed memory flashed before him.

_She stops in front of the closed door, returning her favored Revenant to her back and prepares in its place the Cain. She pauses, wordless, focused, releasing the apparent tension in her frame and raising her weapon before moving decisively forward. The door opens revealing the housing of the Reaper core above and a walkway below it, where the disquieting, twisted figures of moaning husks careen toward us. She charges the Cain and releases it, the blast disabling the core and knocking the husks aside. A clear path to the downed Geth on the center platform remains. _

Thane caught her eye again and offered a subtle nod. He felt a surprising thrill when she smiled broadly at him before resting back and closing her eyes again. He slipped back into memory.

_The husks swarm the open floor before the dragon teeth ornamented with bodies ahead. Grunt rushes forward but she jumps back, alarmed, to crouch behind the crate nearest me, her shaking hands becoming steady again_.

Thane considered this memory a moment. While she had behaved no differently in taking her place near him, she had drawn confidence from his presence. He realized Shepard had begun to trust him.

He knew Shepard was convinced of his abilities as a professional assassin or as a member of her combat team. She offered him little concrete direction as they worked together, expecting he would find the best way to help accomplish the goals she set or complement her actions, but her willingness to rely on him today seemed newly personal.

Shepard was at all times brave but he was aware that the husks disturbed her more than other enemies they had faced together. Perhaps it was due to their twisted, vaguely human faces and the awareness that most had been civilian colonists or crewmembers on peaceful ships or stations before they had been changed into mindless, suicidal puppets. She had recalled for him a nightmarish vision gifted to her by a Prothean beacon; perhaps this memory was what filled her with fear when she looked into their insentient eyes.

Thane had become her arm and he desired to defend her as she would herself, very likely more so given her willingness to put herself at risk to protect others. He would make her stronger in the face of her fears and her enemies; her cause was now his own. Her smiles and strange compassion for him had become a reward worth seeking out in a life he had previously found so distasteful and one she had bettered in helping him reconnect with his son.

This Siha was glorious he thought warmly, worthy of more than anything he could hope to offer her.

Thane stood with Shepard and Grunt as the decontamination cycle completed and the door to the Normandy proper opened.

"Grunt, help me with this thing," Shepard instructed as she struggled to lift the damaged Geth onto her good shoulder, her eyes focused on the odd patch of N7 armor welded to its exterior. Grunt easily hoisted the other side though Thane knew Grunt could carry himself if she had asked. He turned and started to move through the doorway when she called him back, yanking the Cerberus rifle they had found up into her palm and tossing it to him.

"Here," she grinned as he caught it. "Take that to Mordin for research. Looks like a nice piece of equipment - maybe we can get some useful tech off it for the rest of our sniper rifles. Grunt and I will deal with our new passenger. You can let me know later if Mordin thinks he can do something with it. We need all the upgrades we can get."

"Indeed," he answered with a crisp bow, heading toward the lab with the gun comfortably in hand.


	2. Bees

...

"_Birds do it, Bees do it, even educated fleas do it…" -from Let's Fall in Love, Cole Porter_

_..._

Mordin glanced up from his terminal when Thane entered.

"Thane, wanted to speak with you."

"Do you need something?"

"Yes," stated Mordin, continuing to work for a long moment before pausing and regarding him, pulling himself up to full height. "Aware crew is under stress, especially with approaching journey through Omega-4 Relay and difficult confrontation with Collectors imminent. Different species react to stress in variety of ways, but increased sexual behavior is a common response for many, particularly Humans, Turians, and on occasion, Drell."

"I see." Thane realized he was uncertain he wanted to hear where the doctor was going with this.

"Am Salarian so cannot pretend to understand but aware of your attraction to Commander Shepard."

"Are you?" asked Thane, eyes narrowing.

Mordin continued, pacing around the table and gesturing, eyes toward the ceiling as if lost in thought. "Of course. Think it prudent to inform you of certain risks inherent in Drell-Human relations. Drell much stronger than typical Humans due to higher muscle density, caution when handling advised. Many Humans also sensitive to Drell dermatological secretions; responses range from itching and mild rash to anaphylactic shock. Allergic response more likely with sexual intercourse, Human genitalia quite delicate. Recommend thorough lubrication to minimize discomfort."

"I do not think this line of conversation is appropriate, Professor," warned Thane.

"Humans may also experience delirium or mild hallucination with Drell oral contact." Mordin stopped in front of Thane, continuing to gesture as he leaned toward him. Thane resisted the urge to step back. "Important to note Humans favor extensive oral-sexual interaction through variety of behaviors, either mouth-to-mouth as in _kissing_, or… _other_ stimulation commonly noted in scientific literature."

Thane stared at Mordin; he felt himself at a loss for words and suddenly hyper aware of the Cerberus rifle against his thigh.

Mordin turned and continued to pace back the way he had come. "Of course am able to provide various oils and ointments as needed. Am also sending you informational pamphlet noting erogenous zones and positions comfortable to both species. Have already uploaded educational video to EDI, available to view at your private terminals as necessary." Mordin came to rest in front of his own terminal, hands clasped, and looked at Thane, awaiting his response. "Do you have any questions?"

Thane stood still for a moment, distinctly irritated at the notion that his interaction with Shepard had been subject to Mordin's speculation. He leaned over the terminal to place the rifle solidly in front of Mordin, keeping one hand on each side of it and putting himself eye-to-eye with the Salarian. "I think perhaps you disregard your place, Professor Solus. My personal dealings are my own."

He released the rifle and stepped back, adjusting the collar of his leather coat before dropping his hands stiffly to his sides.

"Well!" responded Mordin, clearly offended, before he continued rapidly. "Thought you would appreciate information. Preferable to Commander Shepard crippled by soreness or too intoxicated to fight!"

He picked up the weapon and examined it as Thane turned to leave. "Should also warn you, Humans described as enthusiastic lovers, known to scratch and bite! Would hate to see either of you damaged."

Thane exited the lab, hearing Mordin continue to mutter, "Unfortunate, but unsurprising…"

...

Late in the evening, Thane found himself sitting across from Zaeed in the mess, his fingers toying with a mug of pleasantly bitter coffee in front of him.

He was generally indifferent to food or drink, considering them only necessities he must remember to consume. His life had not encouraged him to pay much mind either to pleasures or discomforts. Long hours spent in observation and stealth or else meditation, prayer or memory precluded attention to passing concerns. He cared for his body as he would care for a weapon and little more.

Nevertheless, during his time on the Normandy he had developed a certain fondness for this Human drink most other species found intolerable. The aroma and warm cup in his fingers soothed him. While he tended to be a recluse when he was not working with the team he even found the Human tendency to assemble around their coffee amusing on occasion.

"…Not happy Shepard let the bastard go, but I guess she did the right thing. I'm still going to plug a bullet in his fucking skull next time I see him…"

Zaeed was less charming than other company Thane encountered in the mess but oddly enough he did not mind him. He found the mercenary's methods brutish and inelegant but respected the fact that they were also efficient and highly effective. Zaeed himself was as unrefined as his work, his lapses of self-control and flares of temper in a fight were legendary but he was otherwise easy-going and quick with a story.

Thane was content to listen to Zaeed talk. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept, only that it had been some time before he had boarded the dead Reaper with Shepard. His mind drifted; he was too tired to rein it in and thought perhaps he should rouse himself toward his bunk when the elevator door opened and Shepard approached his table.

_The door opens, the Human enters holstering her gun, a Quarian and Turian behind her. My prey waits below me as I listen to the woman speak._

Shepard waited as Zaeed begrudgingly pulled his booted feet from the chair. "Zaeed, Thane," she nodded to them, smiling at his name and stirring her coffee as she sat.

"Siha, you should rest," Thane offered quietly. Shepard shook her head and peered wearily into her cup as if it might offer to take over her duties and give her the night off.

"We did the right thing with that Geth," she noted after a time. "It wants to join us and it says the Geth we've been fighting are 'heretics.'"

"Intriguing."

"Yeah," she chuckled, "we're calling it Legion. It doesn't see itself as an individual but as a collective, and it says they would be willing to fight the Reapers…" Shepard trailed off, too drained to add anything else.

"Does Mordin think he can do anything with that rifle?" she asked after a time.

Thane crossed his legs. "I'm afraid I did not speak with Mordin long enough to find out. Our conversation became uncomfortable and I left." He had caught her attention with this; her cheeks colored a bit as she studied her cup with renewed intensity.

"I'm sorry Thane, I should have realized he might try to have that conversation with others as well."

Zaeed groaned and braced his hands on his knees to stand up. "Goddamn Salarian been trying to tell a lot of people about the birds and the bees lately, the way I heard it. Don't think he could tell me anything I don't already know and I don't need to hear about it again unless that angry little bitch down in engineering wants to have a word with me." He stalked off toward the elevator, leaving his drained cup on the table.

Shepard managed to stifle a laugh as Thane reflected that Zaeed and Jack had a good deal in common.

"Thane, I'm not sure I want to know, but just what did Mordin say to you?"

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Thane gave her one of his unusual smiles, waiting for the right moment to respond. Her clear eyes glittered at him and then she drew up her cup to drink.

"He warned me that you might bite."

Thane's laughter rumbled around them as Shepard stood abruptly, still choking on her coffee as she stumbled away.


	3. The Gate

...

"_Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never saw before, Say "please" before you open the latch…" -from Neil Gaiman's Instructions_

_..._

As much as Thane enjoyed his conversations with Shepard, he had never sought her out on the Normandy.

Thane spent the day seated at his table, waiting for Shepard to return from her mission at Heretic Station. He remained behind in favor of Miranda, her overload ability making her better qualified to deal with the massive numbers of Geth Legion described. This was only the second mission he had not joined since his recruitment and his growing attachment to Siha made his inability to keep watch over her disconcerting.

_Please be careful, Siha. I bow, hoping she understands my meaning_.

Today he relived each of their conversations carefully, thoroughly, at least twice, lingering many times more on those that pleased him most. There were not enough of them yet.

_I feel something more for you too. She leans toward me, her warm hands grasping mine. Something more than friendship, she says_.

When he was certain he could not wait any longer, he stood and exited into the hallway, allowing his muscles to stretch and loosen after so many hours unused. He walked toward the elevator, sensing someone nearby.

"Ah, Thane!" Kasumi flickered into view before him, glancing over her shoulder at him as she passed and headed toward the Port Observation Deck. "I believe Shepard is back," she remarked playfully before disappearing again. He nodded his thanks and stepped into the elevator, clasping his hands behind his back as the door closed.

"EDI, is Shepard in her quarters? Please ask if she will see me."

...

Shepard was seated at her terminal when he entered, but she had already turned her chair toward him, anticipating his arrival.

"Hello, Thane," she addressed him with a smile. "I'm glad to see you here. I believe this is a first."

Her hair was wet and she wore the short-sleeved, fitted dark uniform she favored on-board. He noticed her armour piled haphazardly in a far corner, but saw few other personal effects beyond a collection of model ships displayed between her office and the dropped room behind it which contained a bed, a large, right-angled couch, and an assortment of tables. The aquarium wall to his left glowed coolly blue, feeding fish darting within.

Shepard stood, and it seemed for a moment as if she would reach for him, but she moved past him and down the steps instead. "Why don't you join me? Are you doing well?" she asked, catching his eye for a moment.

"Of course." He cast a practiced eye over her as she went toward the end of couch nearest her bed and immediately noticed that she was moving differently, the stiffness in her shoulder readily apparent to him. "You are injured, Siha?" he questioned as she sat down.

"No, not really. I'm not sure what I did to it at the station." Shepard indicated the other section of the couch, but he remained standing, the paneled wall now behind him and his hands comfortably at his back. "We managed to re-write the programming on those "heretic" Geth. According to Legion, they should stop following the Reapers and co-operate with us in the campaign."

She sighed at him when he did not comment and relaxed into the cushions, grinning. "I'm sure I'm fine."

"Have you allowed Dr. Chakwas to examine you?"

"Really, Thane, if I can't even remember what I did to it, then it can't be too bad. The shower seemed to help."

He regarded her seriously. "Siha, I am no physician, but I am familiar enough with bodies to determine the nature and extent of your injury, if you will allow me."

Shepard laughed at this. "Looking for any excuse, aren't you?" Thane did not move. "Oh fine, go ahead."

Thane approached and dropped onto one knee next to her as she sat forward, allowing him to take her wrist in one hand and her forearm in the other. He enjoyed looking into her eyes for a moment, having rarely had the opportunity to see them so close without her helmet in the way. Shepard glanced down and he followed her gaze, enjoying the contrast of his own strong fingers against her fine, smooth skin.

He pulled her hand up the length of his forearm, resting the weight of her elbow in his palm, and ran his fingers gently along the outside of her upper arm until he came to her shoulder, sliding his thumb lightly over the muscle and coming to a stop at the joint. She tensed suddenly but relaxed into it as he stilled his hand, only resuming his gentle exploration around her shoulder when he was certain any pain had subsided.

"I would prefer to look at your shoulder. My experience tells me only that you are weakened and tender here and how I might further disable you. I can't say much more without seeing it or using it against you."

"Are you trying to get me undressed?" Shepard said lightly. "You should know that I have easy access to a pistol, even now."

Thane wondered at her manner; she seemed to have grown increasingly uncomfortable in his company outside of combat over the last several days, her natural confidence slipping to betray a certain shyness.

She reached across her body and tugged down the hidden zipper along the side of her uniform, easily at first, any tendency to self-consciousness stripped away in her years of military service. Her collar parted at the neck and the flap of fabric folded open across her chest as she continued. Her awkwardness returned as she worked the uniform off her shoulder and down her arm, aware of how closely Thane was observing her. She ensured part of it remained in place over her breast with her free hand and he noticed her skin begin to redden as she carefully avoided his eyes and focused instead on his knee.

He did not move as he took in the pleasing color change of her exposed neck and chest, the small rosy patches creeping across the top of the black fabric to the curve where her breast met her arm. He realized he still held her arm when he felt the warmth of it in his hands, the back of his fingers brushing against her side. "Siha," he murmured to himself, suddenly curious to see all of her. His only lover had not been Human and he had never taken a particular interest in them before now. Shepard, however, was an exceptional individual, and he was drawn to her in spite of himself, the decision he had made so many years ago to avoid any strong connection to others having eroded with his discovery that she shared his feeling.

Thane shifted his focus to the mottled purple around her shoulder joint, noting some swelling and heat in the ligaments under his fingertips before holding her shoulder stable and lifting her arm out to the side of her body to check the mobility. She sucked in her breath for a moment at this, her uniform resisting the motion, and he grew still.

"I admire your durability," he said, enjoying her amused expression as he resumed his slow movement. "I do not think anything is seriously damaged."

"No, I expect it isn't. Any problems will probably disappear pretty quickly; this Cerberus body does a good job of maintaining itself. No telling how much nano-tech is in there."

Thane was certain now she would be fine, but was reluctant to release her, feeling her warmth flooding into him, settling between his legs.

Suddenly tense with his body's desire, he breathed evenly and deliberately to dispel it, irritated at this unbidden response to Shepard's proximity. Hoping to regain his composure, he stood, releasing her as gently as he was able whilst putting distance between them and returning to his typical pose.

Shepard shook her head a bit as if to clear it and tugged her uniform back into place over her bruised shoulder, fumbling a little as she struggled to work the zipper.

"I'm… not sure what just happened, but would you help me with this? I don't know how I managed it the first time with my left hand, but…"

"Of course, Siha." Thane leaned over her, carefully grasping the fabric at her side and pulling the zipper up as she peered at him. His arousal subsided only a little; he endeavored to calm himself as he completed his task and straightened, meeting her gaze for a long moment.

"I should go," he said eventually, his tone more cold than he had intended.

"Please stay."

He hesitated briefly and then nodded, seating himself on the other section of the couch, crossing his legs and placing one long arm across the back and the other in his lap.

"You know, it's funny, because I injured my shoulder so many times before I… anyway, once I dislocated it and tore it up a bit, I just seemed to injure it over and over again. Always finding it hanging there at the worst time, bones pushing out at all the wrong angles. You would think Cerberus could fix that and I guess they did. I know I heal more quickly now." She groaned in frustration and lay down on her good arm, squirming to find a comfortable way to rest the other over her waist.

Thane could see her legs stretched out past the curve of her hip and she reached for the tips of his fingers. He shifted forward so he could hold onto them lightly, gazing at the top of her head.

"I'm not sure, though, which parts are mine and which are new. Sometimes I think it's like a phantom limb, I just think it's my old torn-up shoulder but it's probably metal or something else now."

"Phantom limb? I am not familiar with this term."

"You know, even a couple hundred years ago, if someone got an arm or a leg hurt badly enough on Earth, the doctors would just remove it. The replacements weren't very good, they weren't wired into the rest of the body like they are now and the doctors couldn't do that much about the pain. People would say they could still feel their missing parts. They could feel their leg hurting, but they didn't have a leg there to hurt."

She shifted again, grasping at his fingers more tightly and raising her head more in line with her spine so that he could see her nose and the tips of her lashes.

"Maybe it's like that. I'm feeling pain from a body that isn't there anymore. How could any of it have survived the re-entry and crash, really?" She looked up at him, as if he could answer her, her anxiety apparent. "I question whether I'm even real, sometimes. I don't know where they found a… me, I guess, to put back in this thing. Which part am I?" Thane's heart seemed to twist in his chest as he noticed the tears accumulating at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. Surprised at her unexpected distress, he reached his other arm toward her, holding her hand firmly between his.

"Siha, the nature of your body is unimportant to me," he said quietly, hoping to reassure her. "I have never thought to question it. Your spirit is a reflection of the Goddess, and it exists apart from the form you were given at birth or that which has been remade by the alchemy of your people. You are the sword, the arm of Arashu herself, as I am yours." She sighed, her eyes closing tightly against her doubt and he knew his words did little to comfort her.


	4. The Abyss

...

_"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. When you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." -from Beyond Good and Evil, Friedrich Nietzsche._

...

The door slid open with a quiet hiss and Thane waited just outside, reluctant to disturb her meditations.

"Thane," stated Samara without turning.

He could see her seated before the grand tapestry of space, unmoving and calm. "Forgive my intrusion, Samara."

"Please join me, Thane."

He entered with his usual measured steps and carefully seated himself next to her, mimicking her pose, folding his own slim limbs beneath him and resting his hands on his knees. Thane valued Samara and he was well aware that she was a more developed individual than he; she possessed, after all, many lifetimes worth of experience to draw upon in shaping her soul.

Thane listened to her breath and matched its rhythm with his own as he looked out into the eternity before him, the cool air of the ship filling his lungs. The expanse of dust and light glittered back at him, cold and unfathomable, reminding him of the sea he had known as a child. He would return to Kalahira soon, just as his sea and his people would return to dust among the stars in time. His breath advanced and retreated, the expansion of his chest paining him even as it calmed him.

He had looked forward to the time when his soul would depart completely from the form it bore so that he could join that impassive dust around him, unbound by the discomforts and suffering of his body, the regrets he felt as a physical weight upon him. Now he was uncertain.

"Your spirit is uneasy, Thane. How may I help you?" Samara asked.

He turned his head to look at her as she breathed in, unmoving, her body relaxed. Her elegant profile softened as she exhaled and turned to face him, waiting for his words.

"Samara, I seek your counsel. I desire your insight as I find I am experiencing some difficulties I am unable to resolve alone." He paused to observe her, still hesitant to share his distress.

Samara nodded sagely. "I will do my best to ease your burden, Thane. Our lives have been in some ways very different, but I can see you seek understanding, as I do. What troubles you?"

Thane examined his hands, uncomfortable as he considered his failings.

"I have accepted my fate for many years now and it seemed best that I am approaching the end of my time in this body. It has served me well, served the Compact for my people and our benefactors. Now it fails me and I have very little left to offer before I die yet I find myself… newly unwilling to release it to the Goddess. I do not understand why my soul now clings to this life when my departure has been so long set before me."

Thane paused, searching for the right words, steeling himself to admit aloud what troubled him.

"I have come to desire the love and affection of another. It is not only that I want to know her, but that my failing body seeks her as well. Such need is unfamiliar to me; my people are not passionate in this way. Yet I am inflamed, irritated… my body betrays me, it drives me toward her when I had done my best to put all encumbrances aside. My love for Irikah was pure, as I love Arashu Herself. That should be enough. I have loved enough." He said this determinedly, as though he could will himself into peace. "I fail to understand why my heart desires this woman, why my body is alight when I am near her."

"I see." Samara recognized his struggle to verbalize what had not previously demanded a name. "I know that you speak of our commander and it is no surprise to me that you have developed feelings for her." Thane looked up at her quickly, surprised that yet another teammate had so easily discerned what he attempted to hide.

"Shepard is your shadow, Thane, another embodiment of your goddess. She possesses certain of those attributes of the enlightened that you lack, and has furthermore given you purpose when you believed your time here was done."

He considered this before continuing. "It seems foolish to rouse myself and to encourage her generosity toward me, to bind ourselves to one another in hope or love so soon before my death."

Thane quieted, unable to express his confused feelings, his throat closing against the words in frustration. He felt the weight of his hands where he had placed them upon his thighs, his fingers suddenly twitching against one another and hoped that Samara would understand his trouble better than he was able.

"So you have found one to love again?" Samara asked gently. "Thane, it is no betrayal to your wife or to your gods to love. It is no betrayal to your beloved either.

"We who seek the embrace of the infinite, and who desire to hone our bodies while we possess them, often choose to ignore ourselves as individuals. You and I have both lived as ascetics; we have made of ourselves instruments to serve something greater, to honor our highest values. I serve my Code and the ideals of my people and you have served the best interests of your people and their commitment to the Hanar.

"It will not diminish your service if you now find joy. Perhaps you have discovered that your vessel may have other noble uses and your spirit now seeks things you had believed lost to you. It does not diminish what you had before to love this woman and the fact that you may not have the blessing of a long life to share does not lessen the enormity of that gift.

"When I was a maiden, before I became a Justicar, I loved as you do." Samara paused, a hint of a smile appearing first at her eyes as she mused and passing briefly across her face before she returned her attention to Thane.

"I have seen many pass in my time; that is the torment of long life. I do not regret what I shared with others who have gone before me. Each being must return to eternity and while we possess our forms it is a celebration of the pattern of things, of the cycle of living and dying to embrace life and love while we have it."

Thane listened, feeling only somewhat eased. He recognized the insight of Samara's words, but the feelings he observed in himself were still tangled and difficult.

"Samara, I fear also that… were I to grasp at this thing, my beloved would find me lacking; our people's ways are so very different. My feeling for Irikah was one of admiration, of devotion. I feel that for Siha as well, and a great deal more, but I fear she would expect of me the passion one of her own kind could offer her. My body has been tasked with taking the lives of others, and while I kill efficiently I am unfamiliar with the use of the body as a tool of pleasure."

Thane felt unusually awkward for a moment with this admission. His people were formal and reserved and he had developed this self-discipline to the maximum in the pursuit of his art. He had seen enough to recognize that Humans often approached their lives with a certain instinctual abandon. He had observed the foreplay of their couplings at times and saw there a ferocity and drive that both intrigued and disturbed him. When he thought of his Siha, he wanted to possess her and lose himself to her in this Human way, to hold and explore her. He wondered particularly at the way Humans sought each other with their mouths, something rarely practiced amongst Drell.

"Thane." Samara shook him from his thoughts with her smile. "I do not think I need to tell you that passion is what makes Humans beautiful, and I believe it is part of what draws you to your beloved. Humans lack the power of your Drell memory or the time for reflection afforded by the very long lives of the Asari. Therefore, the very best among them are invested in the present and in the bodily experience in a way you may find difficult to understand. This is what makes some of them formidable on the battlefield, despite their physical weaknesses, or delightful, exhilarating lovers. The key for them is the enjoyment of the present, a willingness to accept each moment.

"I think the Human approach would serve you well at this time. You can retreat into your memories at the end of your life and find comfort in reviewing your successes or you could alternately follow your beloved's example, explore desire and passion without reservation and see that it too can lead the soul to great things."

Samara paused a moment, and then added, "I would not worry that she will find you lacking as a lover. I believe your Siha has seen something in you that you were not aware of. I have observed you together and I think you have much to offer each other."

Thane took this in for a moment, and then nodded as he stood. "Samara," he bowed, "I thank you for sharing your insight with me. I will leave you to your meditations."

Thane stepped silently out, pleased to realize it would not be unjust of him to love Shepard, but he did not allow his thoughts to touch upon his greatest concern in this matter. He encountered it rarely, like a tender spot at the back of the head revealed only by probing fingers, something best left alone in the hope that it would disappear without further attention.


	5. Waiting

...

"_The stars come nightly to the sky; The tidal wave unto the sea; Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high, Can keep my own away from me." -from Waiting, by John Burroughs_

_..._

Thane was pleased to find himself seated next to Shepard on the Kodiak. EDI had recommended that she take the shuttle to their next mission while it continued to test the newly-installed Reaper IFF.

_I take her arm in my hands, her skin soft and warm against mine, a fair gold against my darker green._

Thane found his mind drifting back to his brief visit to Shepard's cabin regretting that while he was near to her again now, the presence of the team and the thick armor between them made this cramped trip considerably less enjoyable. He looked around at his team-mates, having never seen them assembled together at once much less crammed into a space that better suited no more than a half-dozen occupants. To make matters more absurd, Thane understood this mission was unlikely to yield any combat, but Miranda had ordered the entire team off the Normandy nonetheless. He could only assume Miranda's order had been a safety measure of some kind; Shepard must have agreed or felt it was a matter not worth arguing over.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Jack snarled at Jacob, coming up from her seat into a crouch, biotic energy crackling at the tips of her fingers. She handled the close quarters less well than others, likely a response to her confinement as a child and on the Purgatory. Thane had heard enough about her past to find Miranda's decision to include the entire team on this unimportant mission particularly unwise. Leaving behind such a powerful and angry woman rather than place her in a situation most likely to provoke an outburst seemed to him the lesser of two evils.

"Easy," Jacob answered her irritably, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best to avoid her hostile stare. Thane noted Zaeed met her angry glance evenly, unmoving and unperturbed, seeming to diffuse the situation in the process. Jack returned to the very edge of her seat, her tension still apparent in every muscle, returning Zaeed's gaze before looking away and focusing on the ceiling. He wondered whether Zaeed did in fact relate to Jack better than the other team-members, his suspicion that there was more to Zaeed than one might guess further encouraged.

At last they were nearing their destination, the planet Taitus in the Caleston Rift. Scanners had indicated only an abandoned mech here and a confused, repeating signal, but Thane was certain he was not alone in looking forward to a chance to stretch his legs outside of the Normandy, whether he had the opportunity to utilize his skills or not.

"Commander Shepard," announced EDI over the comm, "I regret to inform you that the Normandy has been attacked by the Collectors. Mr. Moreau and I have secured the ship, but the rest of the crew has been taken. I await your orders."

Thane looked to Shepard, her expression unreadable with her helmet already in place. Resting her elbows on her knees, facing the floor, she paused a moment before straightening herself and responding in a low, too-even voice.

"Tali, take us back up, we need to find out what's going on."

...

Thane paced through the ship, hands clasped in front of his chest and head bowed, unable to settle himself. He had prayed to Arashu for some time in his accustomed place in Life Support, but found he could not sit long. As he walked, he continued his entreaties for the well-being of the many individuals he had become familiar with over the last few months. He had known none closely, but he prayed fervently that the team would be able to recover them unharmed, although he found such good fortune unlikely.

The Normandy was eerily quiet, something he would have been comfortable with at any other time but now the absence of noise struck him as bleak and oppressive. After making a few rounds of the crew level, he stood resting his weight against a table in the mess, relaxing from his attitude of prayer to hold onto the edge of it, the memories of meals taken with others and passing conversations bubbling up.

_You know the food around here used to be a lot worse. Didn't even have coffee until Shepard picked up some supplies for us. He smiles and indicates his kitchen with a wave. Nice to have something decent to feed the crew, keeps up the morale._

_Oh, I bet you lived an exciting life as an assassin, didn't you Mr. Krios? I hope you'll tell me all about it. She blinks oddly at me, touching my elbow. You know it's my job to understand what makes people around here tick, and I think you might be my favorite subject yet! She speaks like an excited child._

Thane remembered Gardner, Kelly and any number of other crew members he had talked with around the ship, finding it painful to imagine so many innocents abused, perhaps destroyed.

How many lives had he taken? He remembered them all, but had never bothered to count, finding such enumeration unimportant. Most of them, at least, had not suffered at his hands. He couldn't begin to think what the crew might be suffering now, if they were still alive.

_I break the man's fingers, one by one, joint by joint. He begs me to stop, but I silence him with a brutal blow to the ears, my cupped hands striking either side of his head. I am not ready to cause him serious damage yet. He screams but never asks who I am or why I have come for him. I am confident he knows._

Thane recognized a certain irony.

He was both prepared for his coming death and a master of his art, gifted at killing and capable of defending himself, and had been from childhood. When he had left Samara on the Observation Deck that morning, Thane believed his soul should be at peace the his death, having absorbed her wisdom, having done all he could to prepare, and finally concluding he would allow himself the comfort of loving Shepard in the time he had left. When he returned to the Normandy later that day, finding it purged of its vitality, he wished only that he had been there instead of those less able to defend themselves. He would have happily accepted his end in place of any of the individuals he had spent time with here and considered it an honorable demise. Yet he remained in the darkened halls of the ship and those the Collectors had taken did not stand a chance on their own.

_Siha, I whisper to her, touching her cheek, wanting her recognition once again. Her skin is cold, her eyes wide and dull. She does not see me_.

Irikah had never had a chance either. The Batarians had come for her while he was away, unable to protect her or give his own life in exchange. Thane had furthermore abandoned Kolyat, deserted his only son in the hope that he would find greater happiness and security in his father's absence. Kolyat had survived this betrayal, but might never truly forgive him.

Thane had prayed to the Gods that he might have more time with Shepard, that his death would not come too quickly now that she had given him purpose and promised him some small measure of contentment, something he had not felt since losing Irikah. He supposed he should thank the Gods for granting him this, but he was left with a sense of anger and self-disgust at finding himself once again powerless and uncertain whether he wanted more to live or to die. The blessing of having been spared again brought him only hollow grief.

Thane suddenly felt himself foolish for hoping he could bring light to the galaxy. Experience taught him that he would survive, where others would suffer and fall around him. He shuddered when he realized that, above all else, he was thankful the Gods had at least spared Shepard, whatever had happened to the rest of the crew.

She remained. _Siha_. Shepard was their salvation, and she would save them if anyone could. She was his chance at life.


	6. The Compass

_**...**_

"_Such wilt thou be to me, who must __Like th' other foot, obliquely run;__Thy firmness makes my circle just,__And makes me end, where I begun." -from "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning," by John Donne_

_..._

With this thought, Thane found himself driven toward Shepard's quarters, pushing himself away from the table and striding toward the elevator, each step ramping up a sudden irrational fear that that she might also slip away from his grasp too quickly, that he might lose her too soon to know her completely. He had lost too much already. His need to see her compelled him, took over any sensibility and when he stormed in, he was shocked and ashamed to witness his weakness exposed before her.

_Thane, be alive with me tonight_.

Shepard had given him her blessing, accepted his offering. Thane drew her close, unable to wait any longer to touch her, and placed his lips on her for the first time. Exhilaration coursed through him, the tears streaking his face forgotten, her face warming his as the sun brings creatures of the dust to arousal and fruition. His hands trembled as he ran his fingers over Shepard's hips and finally wrapped his arms around her as he had wanted to so many times. Her lips were soft beneath his, her body inviting his touch as she arched into him, the muscles of her back firm under his hands as she powerfully returned his embrace.

Thane dared to taste her, to touch his tongue to her mouth as he had to no other, to seek her kiss. Siha's lips were sweet between his and her soft moan the kindest sound he had ever known, encouraging his passion, permitting him this unimagined pleasure. Could this warrior angel really desire him, need him the way he needed her?

When Shepard's mouth opened to him he was overwhelmed. He felt her tongue brush his and he drank it in eagerly. Her hands touched his cheeks and he lost all thought, his fear gone. Thane's body was electric, every part of him on fire as he opened his eyes, stunned to see her so close, his lips and tongue still stroking hers. He felt her breasts pressed against his chest through their clothing, her unfamiliar Human form intriguing and exciting him, and once again he wanted desperately to see them bared. He wanted to know her body like he knew his own.

Thane held her as though he could hold on to the life that was slipping away from him. His Siha, whom Arashu had gifted with Her own power of protection in defense of those who faced the Reapers' obliteration, might somehow offer him life itself. He gripped her, holding tightly as he dared and breathed in her essence. He felt as if she had forgiven him his failures and granted him another chance with her caress, given him something to live for. She had freed him from an existence so long defined only by his ability to bring death and to mourn those he had left behind. Amazingly the Gods had seen fit to place him before her, to let him touch the Divine when he embraced her.

Thane backed toward the couch, pulling Shepard with him and down onto his lap as he sat, feeling as if her weight on him was the only thing keeping him grounded. He watched her intently for a moment, wanting to remember her this way, her cheeks flushed and full lips parted. He felt Siha's intense warmth on his leg and her knees brushing against his inner thigh as she played the fingers of one hand over his coat, rubbing his shoulder and chest beneath it. When she reached up and teased the sensitive fringes along the side of his head, he held his breath, his eyes closed despite his intention to see her and he moved his head toward her fingers, gripping her thigh, unable to focus on more than her touch. Thane felt her fingers slide down over his cheek and gently trace over the folds of his neck and he let his head fall back for a moment, hearing himself sigh.

He looked at her again when she tugged at his coat collar and turned into his embrace, leaning closer to kiss him and sliding one of her legs across his groin, resting it against his hardness. "Ohh, Siha, you are beautiful," he groaned, brushing his lips over hers, wanting more than anything to feel himself buried in her, to feel the pressure of her body across his hips and her skin on his, but he would not allow himself this satisfaction yet.

Thane still found it difficult to believe he was here with her, that the woman he desired, nearly worshipped with the intensity of his adoration and respect, would return his affection.

He stroked her rounded calf, thankful for the black fabric obscuring the feel of her flesh from his fingertips. He would not be able to control himself in this position long, seeing Shepard's legs parted under his touch this way, so he grasped at her bare ankle, noticing for the first time that her feet were unshod, and pulled her leg over the top of his. Her other leg followed and Thane held her completely, one arm under her shoulders and his hand spread across her ribs, the base of his thumb brushing against the underside of her breast until he gave in to the urge to let his fingers explore her, trailing beneath her firm, curving body. He pressed his palm into the dip where her leg joined her buttock, sliding his fingers over her backside and coaxing another throaty moan.

Thane wanted to touch more of her, to touch _all_ of her, the source of her warmth was so near to his hand, but he stilled; he would not relinquish his self-control so easily. Simply holding Siha this way was more than he had thought the Gods would ever allow him.

Shepard rested in his embrace, arms encircling his neck as they kissed endlessly, their exchange at turns both tender and passionate, until, finally exhausted, she began to relax into him, her head against his shoulder.

"Siha," Thane whispered to her, touching her cheek, afraid to breathe, wanting her recognition once again. She opened her eyes for a moment, her expression happy and confused, her pupils hugely dilated and her gaze distant. Her eyes were glassy; he knew she did not see him.

Thane felt a wave of panic come over him, wondering what he had done. "I love you," he told her, his voice hoarse and low. He watched as her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.


	7. The Gun

_**A/N - The second section of this chapter is the only time where I have recreated an entire segment of the game. While I have been fairly faithful (and spent hours watching youtube in the process), I did add some important details to give you an indication of what is going on in my Shep's head in this fic. Stick with me; post-game coming in the next chapter!**_

...

"_I'm you, the Gun said. I'm saying good night to my own subconscious. Of course you are, the Gun said. Now Sleep." -adapted from Against a Dark Background, by Iain M. Banks_

_..._

Thane did not sleep over the next few hours, holding Siha close to him, keeping watch over her instead.

He realized, with considerable consternation, that Mordin's warning had been correct. She had responded ardently to his advances, and he had relished the opportunity to embrace her for the first time, to place his lips on hers, only to see her cut loose from him, delirious, her eyes trained on some faraway place she had found in his kisses.

Thane traced a finger along her lips, noting with some relief that while they were reddened and swollen, he saw no sign of a rash, no reaction he would not expect from the time they had spent engaged kissing each other.

Thane peered at her face; she was peaceful and relaxed against his coat, the fingers of one hand twisted around the top strap of his suit and her other arm wrapped around his side. He regretted that he would not enjoy tasting her again; he had relished this new activity a great deal, experiencing an intimacy and connection to his Siha he had not believed was possible.

Holding her would have to be enough. Her steady, deep breathing comforted him, even as he felt the familiar heavy sensation of his own lungs struggling within him.

"Shepard," announced EDI's calm voice, "We have arrived at the Omega-4 relay and are prepared to pass through on your command."

Shepard started awake, her fingers tightening on Thane's suit and hip as he eased her upright onto the couch, reluctant to let go of her. "I'll be right there, EDI."

She turned away and got to her feet without looking at him and disappeared into the bathroom. Thane stood and waited near the couch, hands at his back, uncertain whether she would prefer him to stay or go. She returned a moment later and sat on her bed wordlessly, her expression serious and determined, strapping on her armor as he watched. When she was done she approached him, helmet and gloves under one arm and leaned toward him to press her lips to his, the fingers of her other hand gently touching the exposed skin of his chest.

_She does not see me_.

Thane flinched and stiffened when he felt her lips, shutting his eyes for a moment to focus on her touch, but unwilling to return her kiss.

When he looked at her again, Shepard met his gaze questioningly. "Siha, I do not desire to harm you. I fear my attention affected you poorly." He frowned at this, troubled by the idea that he could inadvertently wrong or desecrate her in some way.

"It's okay, Thane," she breathed softly onto his cheek, her fingers caressing his neck and jaw. "I'm okay now." He caught her hand in his, holding it open against his chest and looking into her now normal eyes for a moment, reassuring himself before she pulled away and walked toward the door. She exited and he was left standing alone, considering what had happened, grateful that she appeared well again.

"_You are beautiful," I tell her, reeling with need, my desire apparent as she presses against me_.

He pulled himself from his memories and followed after her, steeling himself for the battle to come.

...

Moving through the Collector Base, taking cover, shooting, defending, these were things Thane did without conscious thought. A lifetime of practice had made it all automatic. His body did what it was trained to do; too much thought interfered with what the muscles knew best. His legs pumped beneath him, his vision focused through the scope, hearing yielded up only vital information and the only touches he felt were those of his finger at the trigger and the butt of his sniper rifle recoiling against his shoulder. Every strike seemed to arise of its own accord, enemies were pushed aside by gun or fist, even the pain of breathing subsided to nothing, the constraint in his chest only another part of the experience that unfolded around him.

Shepard pointed to Thane and Samara. They joined her on the platform and Thane vaguely heard Shepard give a short speech to the others before the platform moved them away from their companions into a bleak unknown.

He had been at her side throughout the entire mission, his only thoughts arising from his awareness of her location and well-being. Even these primal thoughts were unarticulated, unreasoned. He knew he would defend her to the death; he would look wherever she didn't, keep her within an ideal possible distance, never letting a variable between them. He rarely looked directly at her, he didn't need to. When he did, he observed that her hands never shook and her will never faltered. She pushed continuously forward, unstoppable.

Their platform appended others, and the three of them took on the Collectors and Harbinger easily, forming a line behind the barriers the enemy never managed to breach. Siha seemed to regard them only as minor hindrances that would not slow them as they headed inexorably to the base's center. Another platform of enemies met them, and another. Thane worked in tandem with Samara whenever possible, detonating her biotic pulls with his own warp ability between shots, or simply shooting the enemies she levitated.

When the Collectors were down they shifted to the far platform of the assemblage and Shepard tapped at the controls. They drifted toward an aperture in the wall of the chamber, where EDI's warning came of what lay ahead.

"Shepard, if my calculations are correct, the super-structure is a Reaper."

As they approached the Human-Reaper, Shepard removed her helmet, eyes widening as she took in it's huge death's-head lolling down at them, the grin of its massive, unfleshed metal skull, inhumanly jointed hands hanging overhead from the raised arms and tubes supporting its weight. Thane could hear the shock and disbelief in her voice while she questioned EDI, her face hardening in anger as she finally said, "This thing is an abomination, EDI. How do we destroy it?"

Shepard did not bother to replace her helmet, but let it drop beside her as she raised her gun toward an unsheathed section of conduit funnelling the processed remains of Gods-knew-how-many dead into the Reaper-embryo just as another wave of Collectors approached.

Thane watched in horror as she retrained her aim to the advancing enemies without bothering to seek cover. She stood unwavering, her feet planted as if they were part of the platform. He would be unable to pull her down without giving them both over to the Collectors; he could only fire away with Shepard and Samara, making every shot count for as much of an enemy's life as he could leech away, unwilling to let go of his rifle for the few moments he would need to throw one into the space around them or detonate Samara's biotic attacks.

As the last of the Collectors fell, the armor of the Reaper before them slid back to expose its feeding tubes and they destroyed all four quickly between them. The abomination snapped loose from its remaining supports and plunged into the chasm below, each of them approaching the edge of the platform to witness its fall.

Shepard immediately linked to the rest of their team for a status report, her voice firm as she instructed them, "Head to the Normandy. Joker, prep the engines. I'm about to overload this place and blow it sky high." She lifted up the core from the floor of the platform they stood on and had just set to work when Joker informed her of an incoming comm from the Illusive Man, EDI routing it to Thane's omni-tool.

Thane held his tool aloft, the image of the Man projected in front of him. He was unsurprised to hear the Illusive Man's desperate attempt to convince Shepard to preserve the base, to secure for him what might bring Cerberus unimaginable power. "This is our chance, Shepard. They were building a Reaper. That knowledge, that framework, could save us." Thane shook his head slightly at her, well aware his sign was wasted; she barely looked up from her work, and he knew she would make the right choice, as always.

"We'll fight and win without it. I won't let fear compromise who I am," said Shepard, her end of the conversation done.

"Think about what's at stake, about everything Cerberus has done for you…" Thane silenced the Illusive Man with an irritated tap to his wrist, glancing at Samara before turning back to Shepard, watching as she slid the core back into its housing.

"Let's move," she said, standing. "We have about ten minutes before the reactor overloads."

A disturbing sound drew his attention and he looked behind her, realizing the Human-Reaper was clawing its way back onto the platform. It shook beneath them, nearly knocking them to the ground as the monstrous visage appeared over the side, leering at them.

Shepard drew her particle beam from her back and he thanked Arashu when he saw her move straight to cover this time before firing at its eyes. A horrible grinding noise issued from it, the sound becoming an immense, low feedback as its mouth glowed bright red, releasing a huge pulse of energy toward them. They ducked in time to avoid the blast and Thane looked to Shepard. What he saw was startling; he barely recognized the woman he loved, her expression of fury unlike anything he had ever observed in her.

She stood immediately, the intensity of her rage almost a barrier itself, empowering her, making her seem indestructible as she faced the Reaper. She fired again at its right eye, emptying the particle beam as the Reaper charged itself again, only barely dropping away from its gaze as another of its attacks slammed against the opposite side of the low wall.

This time, Thane and Samara stood with her, all of them targeting the same eye. Thane sensed the Reaper had nearly stored up a new surge and crouched down before it hit, putting his back to the barrier. He looked up at Shepard again, reaching out for her, hoping to reach through her anger and pull her to safety beside him.

Just as the wave hit her, she was bathed in red light, her shields flickering away as she continued to fire. Thane had the impression that she was no longer merely Human; she was no longer the angel of Arashu he had devoted himself to. His Siha had become Kalahira. She was a destroyer.

Shepard slammed to the floor, her head smacking against it soundly, her body suddenly yielding as the metal demon crashed down in flames against the edge of the platforms before flailing away, pulling them down with it. Thane instinctually grasped at the wall when he felt himself begin to tumble over it, watching in horror as Shepard jumped over it and away from him, her hand stretched out to catch Samara from sliding into the abyss.

Time slowed as Thane saw both his beloved Siha and his great friend at the edge of death, powerless to help either of them. The platform began to right itself and Shepard pulled Samara back up, Thane rushing toward them. His footing gave way as the platform rocked the opposite way, and they were each knocked down again, rolling across its surface. Thane felt a growing sense of weightlessness as the platform plunged down beneath them, and then saw another platform flying toward them, colliding into theirs before he was knocked unconscious.

_I awaken when my Siha lifts the weight from me, life and breath filling my lungs as she looks into my eyes. She is beautiful, my protector, my lover__._


	8. The Dead

_..._

_"But those who have gone into the workshop, those who are dead, look at one another and know." - from Mechanique: A Tale of the Circus Tresaulti, by Genevieve Valentine_

_..._

Thane would not have believed it possible to hold Shepard in any higher regard, to be any more devoted to her than previously. She had commanded the respect and loyalty of her team and her crew already and their admiration only increased after she destroyed the Collector Base and the Normandy sped away to safety. Again she had proven herself a hero. Thane also knew she had awakened something within him and now he owed her his life, but more importantly he could thank her for the lives of everyone else on the Normandy as well.

He followed behind when they returned to the ship and stayed with her as she briefly took in the damage, noticing the expressions around him were something akin to awe. He was aware that she had business with the Illusive Man and would require time to plan her next steps so he headed on toward Life Support alone when she turned into the Briefing Room.

Shepard came to him the next day as he had hoped she would; he had barely left the room, his time spent in prayers of thanks to the Gods for her triumph and their safety. He admitted to himself that he also preferred to remain where she could find him easily, hoping she would let him know if he could help her in some way; his skills were of little use now but he would willingly contribute whatever she asked of him.

Thane was elated when Shepard stepped in, but recognized from her stance that she had come to him only in a professional capacity. Her back was straight, her hands clasped behind her as she looked out at the core before turning to face him rather than taking her usual place at the table. She did not smile.

"Do you need something?" He cocked his head and offered her only his customary greeting, waiting for some indication from her on how to proceed.

"Well, I want to make sure everyone is okay, for one thing. I also need to let everyone know where I stand with Cerberus."

He did not need her to continue. It was not difficult to conclude that the Illusive Man had been enraged over her decision to destroy the base and it was likely she would see still more fallout as a result. Thane sat back from the table, angry that Cerberus would view her actions with anything but gratitude. He dismissed them with a small wave of his fingers and did his best to speak calmly, his words more restrained than his feelings on the matter.

"You had to make a difficult choice, Shepard. For what it's worth, I believe you made the correct one," he stated simply, but he wanted to embrace her, to let her know he was proud of her victory regardless of what the Illusive Man thought. She achieved the impossible.

She only nodded at him seriously and left and Thane contemplated just how tired she had seemed, her eyes dark and her shoulders weighted. He understood that while the fight with the Collectors was over, Shepard now faced a much larger problem in confronting the Reapers directly and this time she would do it without the powerful financial and logistical support Cerberus had provided.

Without Cerberus, Shepard possessed no other funding or political affiliation that he knew of. The majority of the Alliance continued to doubt her, and he was aware she had rejected the opportunity to regain her Spectre status over it. Thane wondered which of the team members would continue to assist her in such difficult circumstances now that their contracts were completed.

Shepard, by contrast, had really only begun a long war and at this point the parameters of that war remained unclear, both the exact nature of her enemies and any possible allies uncertain. He wished that she could rest, that her triumph had brought her some peace and recognition for her efforts. Her determination to do what was right was as clear in her set expression as ever but he noticed that she looked more haunted, more hunted than he would have expected.

For now he knew must let her negotiate with the other team members; Thane hoped their apparent loyalty to her would bind them to her campaign as well. He would have to share his joy in her accomplishment with her at some other time, when perhaps he could steal her away from her responsibilities for a while.

...

Another day passed and Thane left Life Support, curious about the team's plans. He had no doubt he would stay with Shepard as long as she would have him, but expected he would at least find Miranda, Jacob, Zaeed and Jack making arrangements to leave. He went directly to the Starboard Deck first to look for Samara, wondering whether her Code would require her to remain or if she would now return to her calling as a Justicar.

He was disappointed to find her quarters empty having fully expected to see her seated before the stars but somehow certain she had already left the Normandy. He had wanted to thank her again for her time and her friendship. Thane had spent much of his life alone, the good fortune of finding both Shepard and Samara before his death had been unforeseen and he had been grateful for the example and encouragement these two strong women had given him over the last several months. He stood a while in her place before the windows, feeling a little lost and already missing her composed, anchoring presence but consoled himself with the thought that his friend was well, wherever she had gone.

When he headed back out, Thane could see Zaeed in the mess and walked toward him. As much as Zaeed liked to talk he was not one to exchange pleasantries so Thane merely nodded a greeting as he settled into the chair across the table from him, placing his back to the wall. They sat for a while in a companionable silence, Zaeed looking at the remains of a meal in front of him, Thane clasping his hands below his chin and resting his elbows on the table as he watched the comings and goings of the crew.

"I assume you will be leaving shortly? I'm sure your work will be in as much demand as ever," said Thane.

"Nah," said Zaeed, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms, "I was thinking I might stick around." Thane raised a brow with surprise. "You know, Cerberus already paid my fee, and I've done enough work over the years I've got more credits than I know what to do with. Figure I'll see what sort of trouble I can get up to with Shepard."

"What about Vido?" Thane asked quietly.

"Fuck that bastard. Doesn't matter any more. Spent twenty years hunting him down for what he did to me and I'm tired of living in the past. I'm done with it."

"I see."

"Shepard could use a man like me. I figure we've got bigger fish to fry than that arsehole. Figure maybe I can talk a few others into sticking around while I'm at it. Lot of folks here are in the same boat, way I see it. Only so much time someone can spend at revenge before they might as well be dead. Can't let the bastards win."

Zaeed returned to silence, Thane contemplating this change of heart.

"Everyone on this ship's got a past, some bugger they want to stick a knife in soon as look at 'em. Some kinda regret burning 'em up." Zaeed shook his head.

"Indeed," Thane nodded, examining his hands, not desiring to think of how well Zaeed's comment applied to himself. "What about Jack?" he heard himself asking aloud.

Zaeed looked him in the eye. "You know, that one's got a hell of a past. But she'll be alright." Zaeed stood, gathering his plates. "Heard we're headed to Alchera, Amada system. Alliance found the wreckage of the Normandy SR-1, guess they want Shepard to take a look at it. Don't know why they want her to look at a goddamned graveyard. Waste of her fucking time. Enough dead around the galaxy as it is, more than enough dead coming."

...

Thane asked EDI to request his entrance but was informed Shepard had not responded. He stood outside her quarters, hesitating, unwilling to displease her or to make her uncomfortable should he find her undressed, but with a growing sense of concern. He knew she had landed on Alchera and spent the day examining the ruins of her first ship, the remains of her first life. The door was unlocked however and he finally decided to proceed.

He did not immediately see her until he looked past the model ships and found her sitting at the end of her bed, very still, her unfocused gaze directed in front of her. She looked exhausted and was dressed unusually; where she normally preferred a practical, short-sleeved uniform, today she wore a long-sleeved version, her hands hidden in black fabric, the white arc at her chest emphasizing her abnormally pale face. She sat stiffly, her hands resting on the bed on either side of her.

He approached her slowly, allowing her to hear him, hoping she would give him some sign that he had not misjudged in entering her quarters.

"Siha?" He spoke quietly, but failed to provoke any response. "Shepard?" he asked again, more firmly this time, sorry to see that it was this name and his more formal tone that had moved her to frown and glance up at him.

Thane stood in front of her, hands at his sides, troubled by her apparent indifference. "Siha, forgive me. I am concerned. I know you went to the crash site today…" He kneeled down before her and took both of her hands in his before continuing. "Please, can I help you in some way? It hurts me to see you unhappy and I would comfort you, if you will allow me."

Shepard sighed, her eyes meeting his. "I'm always hurting someone, huh?"

"I did not mean… I apologize. You needn't worry about hurting me. It is difficult to confront the loss of loved ones. You know that I care for you, and I do not want you to carry this burden alone." She stared at him, her face tight, and he could only read her expression as anger. He pulled his hands away and rested them on his knee, unsure of what to do next.

Shepard looked to her left and for the first time he noticed a battered N7 helmet sitting on her desk, its cracked visor gritted in places with what he could only assume was blood. He did not have to ask if it was hers.

Thane was surprised when he felt her gloved hands at his face, her lips pressing against the side of his as he heard her breathe in deeply. He jerked back and immediately regretted it, taking her hands in his again as he faced her. "Siha, I believe this course of action would be unwise. I understand that you are grieving…"

"And we know you are brilliant at handling grief, since it only took you ten years and a suicide mission to work through it."

"…I have some idea of what you are going through," he started again, speaking carefully, "and with that in mind, I would find it particularly ill-considered to risk whatever adverse effect such contact with me may hold for you." She started to push at his shoulders and then attempted to pull her hands free from him, but he was unwilling to move or to let go of her. "I understand what you are going through," he said again quietly, looking into her darkened eyes.

"Do you?" Shepard asked him angrily. "Look, I know _you_ can't get enough of this damn death stuff. I know you've been looking forward to yours, you'll just be returning to the sea," she quoted him, her tone mocking. Thane felt as if she had struck him, closing his eyes for a moment as he remembered the rage that had come over him when he lost Irikah and pushing it away before he could experience it again.

"I don't know, maybe it would have been great if Cerberus had just left me alone with it. But they didn't. I found twenty sets of tags today. That's twenty people who died under my command when we were hit, and they were only a fraction of the people I've sacrificed. All those people went down with the ship, smashed onto Alchera just like I did and died like normal fucking Humans. I should still be down there with them." Her eyes narrowed as she bored into him with her gaze.

Thane stared at her, suddenly recognizing her helpless fury at Cerberus over her resurrection.

"I should be with them, Thane. Instead I'm sitting here and as far as I can tell I'm no better than that Reaper we killed on the base. It wasn't a miracle that brought me back, it was Cerberus and a bunch of tech and frankly I wish that they'd left me alone. I'm not even sure who I am anymore, I don't know what this body has to do with the person I remember being, whether I'm still me. That helmet over there probably has more to do with Shepard than I do, it's probably the only real thing left. I'm just a fucking machine."

"Oh, Siha," he sighed. "I am sorry you are suffering." He stood without letting go of her and sat next to her on the bed, grateful when she allowed him to wrap an arm around her, her head slumped down at his chest as she calmed. "Your spirit is the same, the body is unimportant." He watched her toy with his fingers for a moment, pulling them onto her leg, separating them and examining his fused middle digits. She shook her head against him in disagreement.

"They took my humanity."

"They did not, Siha. You are a vessel of the Goddess, a protector of life. Your willingness to endure what you have to protect those around you is proof to me of your vitality and spirit. Your soul moves you to act, moves you to do these things, not Cerberus. You did not choose this second life or the form you have been given but you have made something profound of them."

"The Illusive Man thought he was getting an expensive puppet, but I suppose I didn't let him pull my strings after all," Shepard mused.

"No, you did not." Thane smiled at this.

"I didn't ask for this, Thane. I'm tired of the responsibility."

"You don't have to fight the Reapers, but I have no doubt that you will. This is not a contract to Cerberus. You are the arm of the Arashu and this is your destiny. You could choose to live differently now but you won't."

He felt her cheek dampen against his chest. "Rest with me," he said, running his hand over her hair and then sliding himself back on the bed. He reached for her hand and pulled her down with him, stretching out so she lay against his side, her head on his shoulder and his arm curving around her to rest over hers. He draped her hand across his chest and stroked her arm, feeling her slowly relax and grow heavy against him.

Thane closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift.

...

Thane was awakened by Shepard gasping, her breath coming in warm puffs over his skin and her body tensed against his. The hand she had laid over his chest now gripped his coat, and one of her legs was bent over the top of his. She moved against her other hand, pressed between her body and his thigh.

Thane's body responded immediately with his awareness, his own muscles beginning to coil, his sex hardening. He remained still, baffled by her behavior, unsure of why she would desire sexual release in the wake of her grief. He stroked her arm again, finding it difficult not turn to her and indulge his desire and he briefly recognized that he found her sexuality intimidating. She turned her face up toward his and he knew she sought his kiss again.

This he would not allow, but he found her arousal and his own difficult to ignore. He sat up, sliding his upper body free of her but keeping her arm around his waist, holding it gently with both his hands, wondering what to do. He looked down at her; she was still now, but her eyes were squeezed shut, her tear-stained face reddened and her hand remained between her legs. Her frustration was apparent when she groaned briefly and opened her eyes to look up at him.

"Siha," Thane started but then thought better of it. Her response to her sadness did not make sense to him, but if she desired release, if it would comfort her, he would do his best to give it to her. He did not know how he would satisfy her need while maintaining control of his own passion and he was uncertain what her Human body required, but he felt it important to try nonetheless.

He turned toward her and pushed her gently onto her back with a hand to her hip, one of her knees still bent up from the bed, and eased himself up onto his own knees before her. He rested his hands on his thighs for a moment as he looked her over, finding her beautiful as ever, even in her sadness and exhaustion. He pressed his hands to either side of her on the bed, raising himself up over her, careful not to touch her yet and then leaned down, placing his lips and nose to her neck, enjoying her scent. "Let me touch you, Siha. I will please you. I will comfort you. You are an angel and I would worship you."

Her skin grew warmer under his lips, and she reached up to slide her hands over his shoulders and onto his back to draw him down. He sat back instead, seeing her expression relax as her gloved fingers rubbed across her belly with one hand and gently touched his fingers with the other, anticipating him. "I want you, Thane." She put her hand to her neck, finding the hidden zipper, but he brushed her fingers away, pulling it down himself as he leaned over her, watching the fabric part to expose a narrow strip of flesh at her side, the rounded edge of her breast spilling out as he went, the zipper reaching its end just above her hip.

Thane placed his hand into the narrow gap the fabric had created below her chin, touching her skin, running his fingers over her as he pushed her uniform open. He realized his fingers were trembling. He would finally see her, see the body he had wondered about so many times, the expanse of her skin widening before him. Her lips parted, her face open to him, waiting, her hands now atop each other over her sternum.

_Irikah's body lies stretched before me on the bed, eyes wide and dull, skin pale under the bruises, hands atop each other over her center. Her dress is torn wide, chest covered in blood. The wound at her neck gapes, the life that spilled away from her now dried on her skin. A howl rises in me, I run my fingers across her skin, her hands are cold and stiff. Siha, I whisper to her, touching her cheek, wanting her recognition once again. She does not see me_.

He came to himself crouched in the hallway outside of Shepard's cabin, his fingers clawing at his head, heart racing within him, unable to draw air through the agony filling his chest. His throat burned in the aftermath of a shriek, tears streaming down his face and dripping onto his leathers.


	9. The Renegade

_**...**_

"_The sun has risen higher, my forehead is beginning to burn. Around me the stones are beginning to crack open with a dull sound, the only cool thing is the rifle's barrel, cool as the fields…" -from "The Renegade," by Albert Camus_

_..._

Then Shepard was there.

"Thane?" he heard her say, her panicked voice rising. "What just happened? Are you okay?" She squatted down, attempting to tug his arms away from him and free his fingers from clutching at his head. He wrenched them away from her, sparing her only a glance, enough to see that her uniform was now mostly in place, her eyes and mouth open in confusion, before he turned away.

"No, Siha!" Thane staggered to his feet, feeling her strong grip pulling on his elbow to stop him before he could move toward the elevator. He spun around ripping his arm free to stare at her, gasping to draw in each searing breath, his arms suddenly tensing at his sides in a defensive posture.

"What's wrong? What the hell is this?" she asked, her fright turning quickly to anger at his stance. "Is this about the kissing thing? Because I can probably find something stronger downstairs in Kasumi's liquor bottles!"

He turned away again, slamming his hand onto the lock, thankful when the door opened immediately and he stepped in, sensing she was behind him blocking it from closing. "I will not do this, Siha," his voice came out in a low rasp as he faced her, his throat briefly inflating as he fought to control his breathing, his fingers tingling from lack of oxygen as he struggled to relax them enough to open from clenched fists.

She stared at him, incredulous. "Do _what_?"

He shoved the memories down as he reached behind him to press the control pad, not caring where he ended up, as long as he could leave. With incredible care, he took each of her wrists in his hands and forced her back a step, returning her stare. "I will not do this again, Shepard." He let go of her, and the door slid closed between them.

He gazed into the dim reflection of himself in the metal panel, seeing only a dark blur and noticing the coolness of the tears that continued to empty down his cheeks.

...

As a Drell, Thane rarely dreamed. His mind and body did not require or spontaneously generate this experience often. Memories were sufficient to make sense of what he took in over the course of days and he could always refer to them; intellect and prayer catalogued and clarified his internal reality outside of memory and more conscious thought. On the rare occasion he dreamed he awoke disoriented, finding it at first difficult to comprehend what had occurred. He had only had what Humans called nightmares perhaps a half dozen times in his life; these shook him deeply, as if his own soul had whispered forth its darkest secrets, brought to light what should remain hidden.

He had returned to his room from Shepard's cabin, glad that the few he passed on the way had not tried to stop him or speak to him; his fierce expression had been enough to discourage the possibility. Shepard had not come to him either. He had found himself pacing Life Support like a caged animal, until, feeling too ill to remain upright any longer, he had collapsed onto his bunk in exhaustion. He had slipped quickly into unconsciousness, his hopelessness drowning him as he gasped for air.

_I awaken, reclined in a small recessed room, surrounded by control panels and displays. I am confused. I raise my head, the ache blinding me and then passing long enough that I can see my body. I do not recognize my hands, the color is wrong and they are bound to the chair that supports me. I wonder why I am here, where here is and suddenly remember I was to bring him her body. The electric shock floods my nerves, every muscle tenses and threatens to tear loose, my senses screaming as I convulse, my back will break, my heart is stuttering. When it passes, I moan, before the will to do even this leaves me. I have betrayed him and I have disrespected the dead. For this I am suffering._

When Thane awakened, his skin was cold despite his clothing and the warm, dry air of Life Support. He looked around him, dimly recognizing the space that had become his, his heart rate beginning to slow. Thankfully he could breathe, or at least as well as he ever did in the last few years.

It took him a few minutes to begin comprehend his vivid dream; he had believed he was Feron, suffering the extended torture of the Shadow Broker. Feron, the Drell who had betrayed so many and had ultimately given Shepard's body to Cerberus, was safe with Liara now, if damaged. Due to his efforts and Liara's, Shepard lived again to fight the Reapers. Thane did not yet understand what this dream meant, but he was relieved that the pain was fading.

The sense of hopelessness he had felt there, strapped to the dream chair, persisted in his waking state.

"EDI, what is our next destination?"

"We will arrive at Omega within 12 hours, Mr. Krios. Commander Shepard expects to stay several days in order to make more extensive repairs to the Normandy."

Thane thanked EDI, and pulled up his omni-tool interface, tapping out a message to a Hanar contact. Perhaps it was time he returned to work.

...

After docking, Thane waited until most of the combat team and crew had left the ship, eager to take advantage of the announcement that they had three days to themselves before they were required to check in again. Most would come and go during that time, but for now they could not get away quickly enough. When he ventured out of Life Support, Thane encountered no one, but was cautious to leave quietly nonetheless, wanting to avoid possible questions or distractions on his way out.

His contact had given him a worthwhile assignment, one he did not expect he would take long to complete. The Normandy's arrival at Omega had coincided with the arrival of another small ship. His targets were exotic slavers, a partnership comprised of a Batarian, and more surprisingly, a Drell. The Hanar had discovered the Drell individual served as a lure, convincing other Drell to leave the protection of Kahje, only to entrap them and sell them for a sizeable amount with the aid of his Batarian partner. As the Drell were so few in number and widely considered an attractive species, they netted a very good price from those who could afford such "pets."

The notion that his own people could betray one another in this way disgusted him, but he mused that perhaps he should not feel so shocked. He had yet to encounter another species incapable of horrific acts; he supposed he had been naïve to think his own people would be above such a thing.

Thane slipped quickly down the corridor and exited into the Omega crowd, senses immediately bombarded after so many days in the relative quiet of the Normandy. He stepped into the tide of people, taking time to focus and attune his mind to his surroundings, to process the infinite lights and noise and press of bodies. When he felt centered, he oriented himself toward the shipping area where he would find his marks.

The partners did their business relatively close to where the Normandy had docked. It was convenient for all parties involved to meet there; buyers and sellers did not have to transport their "stock" very far, and could leave on short notice in the unlikely event they found it necessary. Thane first located the slavers' ship, observing it in dock for a few hours from a distance until he caught sight of his targets leaving, following them easily through the crowd to a nearby warehouse.

When they entered, Thane first waited to see who might arrive before finally concluding no one else was coming or perhaps others were already inside. Gaining entrance was simple; maintenance ducts were no better hidden on Omega than anywhere else and frequently hatches were already loose or completely unsecured. Within a few minutes he found himself perched at the top of a warehouse catwalk, hidden in shadow. _Amonkira reveals them_, he said to himself silently, looking down on the slavers as they exited from an adjoining room into the warehouse proper. He assumed he would find one or several individuals detained there, but for the moment they were safest left as they were.

The Drell partner walked next to an ostentatiously dressed Human, his attractive voice clearly holding the man's attention. An armored Batarian followed behind bearing an assault rifle. "Of course, I understand your concern. She is indeed young, but she has reached the age of sexual maturity for a Drell and we find this age to be ideal. We can install a neural control for you but left as is you will find she is willing enough to learn but not completely unable to challenge you. She can be easily managed and you can mold her into whatever you would like her to be. We find controlled slaves often bore their owners quickly and older slaves may be too difficult to train."

"You cannot find her equal anywhere else, certainly not at this price," the Batarian added.

"Is it true that some Drell die easily? Some sort of illness?" asked the Human.

"We have thoroughly examined her and she isin excellent health."

"I see. She is certainly appealing. If I wanted a domestic worker I don't think her health would be so important to me. I have heard healthy Drell are strong and durable, I plan to enjoy her very much indeed…"

_Irikah was… abused, the examiner tells me quietly. Perhaps it is best she has gone to the sea. Her injuries were traumatic, horrific; we might have healed her body, but I doubt her mind could be made whole again, after what was done_.

Thane's vision went red for a moment, his body wracked with a wave of rage and disgust; he felt his fingers gripping the gun painfully as his weapon sounded and his sight returned.

Blood sprayed forth from the Human as he fell, Thane's shot having struck him precisely at the base of the skull. Thane slipped across the catwalk to the shadows on the other side, examining his work as the Batarian looked around him savagely and his Drell counterpart darted away. Thane waited until the Batarian slaver turned to look his direction. One more shot from his Carnifex and the Batarian succumbed as well, one of his eyes destroyed and the back of his head shattered across the floor nearby, his darker blood pooling with that of the crumpled Human near him.

Thane returned the hand cannon to his hip and pulled his sniper rifle from his back to utilize its scope, aware that for the first time in many years, he had allowed his personal feelings to interfere with his work. He sighted around the warehouse, looking for the Drell, supposing he should have planned his next steps better while he had the advantage, but the slavers' conversation had set him off, the image of the abused young female in their possession suddenly appearing in his mind's eye. His pistol was in his hand and he had fired the first shot before he even realized it.

Thane perceived no movement. He listened for some sign of his target, but could only hear his pulse pounding in his head, a sense of heat crawling up his neck. He wavered a moment, feeling distinctly ill, his lungs pulling hard in his chest. He couldn't breathe.

He gasped, his involuntary sound drawing the other Drell out of hiding from behind a stack of crates, eyes trained up toward Thane's shadow, firing at him before disappearing behind a large transport vehicle. Thane could not remain here; his location was apparent and he discovered for the first time in his life that he could not trust his balance. He compacted his rifle and returned it to his back, dropping to the floor below and rolling behind a crate, the vehicle concealing his prey ahead of him.

"I've heard of you, Sere Krios, in my line of work. A lot of my associates fear you after what you did, but I'm disappointed. You have grown slow, weak in your old age."

Thane slipped around the crate to approach the vehicle, doing his best to control his panting. He started to drop down and slide beneath it, but a momentary notion that he would not be able to right himself again washed over him. His vision darkened and blurred but he remained still and waited for it to pass.

As soon as he felt steady again, he pulled a knife from the inside of his coat and slowly moved forward, his target just around the side of the transport. He had an irrepressible need to make this one suffer, as he had those responsible for Irikah's death. When Thane rounded the corner, he was startled to find his target was not there but he sensed him a moment before he was tackled and shoved sideways, his enemy locking his elbow close to him, knocking the knife loose from his grip and forcing it back toward him. Thane felt the blade cutting across the inside of his elbow, pushing through the leather at his ribs and sliding away as he forced his arm out against his attacker's weight.

Thane used the heel of his other hand to strike across his body and into the slaver's face, feeling the cartilage of his nose crunch as he knocked him back. He lunged toward his enemy, using the explosive power of his legs to propel one fist up into his sternum and follow it with a hook to the temple with his other hand. His enemy fell crookedly to the ground, stunned, blood pouring from his impacted face, foolishly trying to prop himself up on his elbows rather than roll away or counter-attack. Thane shoved his lowered knee into his enemy's groin and grasped his head at the chin and forehead, wrenching it up and to the side with a single, vicious twist.

Thane let the Drell's body fall away from him. He stumbled back to rest against the transport with his hands on his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath as he looked around to make certain he was alone, barely noticing the blood sliding down his arm. He grabbed his knife from the floor and stood up, wanting to place his hands behind his head and expand his chest, but stopped when he felt the gash at his side protest, the rush of the fight fading too quickly to stop the flash of pain. He examined himself, holding his elbow away from his ribs, relieved to see that his injuries were not too substantial. At both elbow and rib, the knife had cut to the bones so close to the surface and glanced away, avoiding anything more important but leaving an unpleasant mess of blood and opened flesh visible through his damaged coat and suit.

Thane replaced his knife and held his side with his other hand, hoping to stop the bleeding as he padded softly over to the room he suspected held captives, willing his breath quiet in case he encountered more combatants. He breached the lock easily with his omni-tool and the door slid open to reveal a very young Drell female, barely clothed and collapsed in a corner, a small amount of blood contrasting her fair yellow-green complexion. She had been implanted with some sort of neural interface after all, something her captors had triggered before Thane had completed his task.

He laid her onto her back and crossed her arms over her chest, and then prayed bitterly to Kalahira for her safe passage.


	10. Gravity

_..._

_"I eclipsed my memories sleeping inside this pod. Patient time will carry me on her back without a sigh, and I won't let her down. Her soul is celestial-bound." - from "Another Space Song" by Failure_

...

Thane left the warehouse, allowing himself to be swallowed up by the turbulent sea of life outside. Anonymous people with all manner of alien faces and expressions floated around him, distracting him from his growing weariness, something that bordered on despair if he looked at it too long.

He had intended to return to the Normandy but continued to drift instead, thoughts and memories making little sense as they flashed before him, his body carrying him on without his awareness. He felt disconnected and the quiet of the ship held no appeal; he doubted he could still himself for long. He didn't want sit isolated in his ailing body with his visions of Irikah and now the young female, nor did he wish to face his constant desire for Shepard or his inability to act on it. He was too constrained by doubt and the habits of so many years devoted to his profession to be an adequate lover. Thinking of her now left him feeling irritable and restless, his attraction to her an ache he could not satisfy.

He missed Irikah. He missed Kolyat and longed to know him but found his son's forgiveness an unlikely prospect. He wanted a sense of belonging again with Shepard, to feel at home in her arms and breathe out the years of vigilance and the despondency that followed his failure to protect his loved ones. Siha was life to him yet he couldn't shake the fear that whatever he touched would dissipate, that everything he held would fall apart in his hands.

Ten years dead, lost to battle-sleep, and Thane had awoken to find that he still could not trust himself to properly care for anything that mattered. He could not return to his sleep and had found no real release this day in killing, however justified he had been. He wasn't numb anymore and he couldn't anesthetize himself with his work any longer.

When Thane found himself at the corridor that would lead him back to the Normandy, he turned away, the bright façade of the Afterlife drawing his eye across the plaza. He sought distraction, just a little more time adrift to try to escape his circling thoughts. He had never been one to visit such places, never desired the intoxication of loud music or drink or unfamiliar company. Now he did not care, he would accept whatever might give him a moment of relief.

Thane walked into the Afterlife, growing increasingly disoriented as the flames of its outer passage danced around him. When he entered he felt as if he had stumbled upon some ancient rite, the bodies of the possessed writhing in time to a thundering beat that seemed to originate within him. His own body was still tense and sore from the troubled hit and his mind exhausted by its aftermath; he felt his self-control slipping. Whereas the mastery of his art normally enabled him to shut off that part of him which hunted and killed so capably, he found his fingers still itching with the urge to fight, to overpower.

One Human pressed a drink into his hand, smiling at him. He swallowed it down unthinking, ignoring her attempt at conversation as he handed the empty glass back to her, barely registering her angry remark as he moved away. He couldn't care less what she had to say. His vision was swimming as he held himself upright against a darkened wall, music now pounding in his head, grateful to find himself confused and unable to remember what he sought in coming here.

Thane looked around and suddenly found his focus on Shepard, the familiar anticipatory rush that came with stalking a target flooding his limbs. She sat above the main floor in a booth, Tali and Kasumi beside her, all three apparently enjoying themselves. Thane's head began to clear and he moved toward the stairs with determination, feeling himself steady as he approached her. Kasumi spotted him and flashed away, reappearing on the other side of Tali and pulling her from her seat. Tali jumped in surprise but allowed Kasumi to lead her toward the floor as Thane passed, not bothering to greet them.

"Siha," Thane addressed her, slipping gracefully into the booth next to her, his voice a low rumble he suspected she felt more than heard over the din. Shepard's expression was a mix of pleasure and uneasiness as she looked sideways at him, uncertain of how to respond. "Thane," she finally said, "I didn't expect to see you here."

He leaned closer to her, raising his voice so she could hear him, the vague sense of misery he had carried since leaving the warehouse draining away in her presence. "I can understand why you wouldn't. I don't normally frequent such places unless I am working."

"Are you working?" she asked suspiciously, turning her face to him.

"No." Thane shook his head briefly and folded his hands in his lap, keeping his elbows to his side and the damage to his coat out of sight. Although he did not remember it, he must have been sensible enough to apply medi-gel to his wounds at some point as the bleeding had stopped and he could see no reason to worry Shepard unnecessarily by allowing her to see his injuries.

He took a moment to look over her, having never seen her dressed this way. She was not wearing one of the fitted uniforms or the armor he was so accustomed to, nor the fashionable, sleek clothing of the Asari favored by so many. Instead, she wore a short, light-colored loose tunic, gathered at the waist and draping attractively over the curves of her body, its matte material appearing to change color with the shifting lights of the Afterlife. It did not conceal the Carnifex he could tell was strapped to the leg farthest from him. A glance down revealed tall, soft leather boots covering her knees, the delicate skin of her thighs above them enticing him, and he resisted the urge to trace over her leg with his fingertips. Most intriguingly, he could make out the shape of her breasts rather better than usual, their slope coming to delicate peaks under the fabric, rising and falling with her breath.

"You are dressed unusually, Siha. I find it very attractive."

His comment did not have the effect he desired; Shepard looked surprised and turned away from him, her eyes following Kasumi and Tali on the dance floor. She faced him again after a moment, her hesitant smile becoming more genuine as she met his gaze. "I spend all my time looking like a soldier. For once I just wanted to look like a woman, to feel like myself again and forget that everyone is counting on me." Her voice was as clear to him as ever in spite of the noise and he watched as she toyed with the hem of her dress before adding, "It's the sort of thing I would have liked to wear when I was younger, before I joined the Alliance, but I never had the money. It's still common enough dress for some civilians on Earth that I didn't have any difficulty getting it. And it's comfortable."

Thane could see her laugh at herself, and he was reminded that however much she might enjoy the change in her appearance, her practicality was never far from the surface. He wondered what sort of life she had had as a child, and admitted that he really knew nothing about her past before the Alliance, having heard only hints to indicate it had been difficult.

"You are always enchanting," Thane said, impulsively grasping her fingers closest to him, allowing his hand to graze over her leg and rest there. Shepard pulled her hand away and picked up the full glass in front of her, tracing its rim with her other hand.

"Are you okay, Thane, because…" she trailed off, frowning as she searched his face. "You don't seem like yourself."

"I am much better Siha, now that I have found you," he answered, clasping his hands in his lap again.

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Look, I don't understand what happened the other night. If you aren't willing to tell me, then I'm not going to try to guess. I care about you Thane." She paused before continuing, "I care and I'm worried about you but I don't have the time and energy to play games."

"Forgive me, I do not wish to give you any reason to worry and I do not consider our conversations or our… relationship to one another a game. Too often my memories arise unbidden. I doubt Drell memories are so different from Human ones in that respect but for us they come with such perfect clarity that they may overwhelm at times."

"So you remembered something. Is that why you left?" said Shepard.

_As gently as I am able, I take her wrists in my hands and force her to step back. I will not do this again, Shepard. I let go of her and the door closes between us._

"Yes."

"Would you like to tell me about it?"

"No, Siha. It is not something I wish to relive more frequently than I do already." Thane watched her closely, the distress caused by their last encounter apparent in the way she bit her lip and frowned. "I regret that I am not able to share it with you. Perhaps later. It is… painful, sometimes, to remember so much. It gives me no pleasure now to remember that I have made you unhappy."

Shepard shook her head, looking both disappointed and irritated. She continued to watch the dancers, letting her eyes wander around the club and over to Aria's platform before lifting up her drink and raising it toward him. "Cheers," she announced and downed it in a single swallow before slamming it on the table.

"I can't help you if you won't let me, Thane," she announced. "There is only so much I can do. You know, your stated contract with Cerberus is complete. I really didn't know whether you wanted to stay on with me to fight the Reapers and you're under no obligation at this point. I'm not looking to get hurt and as much as I could use your help, I don't see any reason for you to stick around if it just stirs up bad memories for you."

"My contract with Cerberus has ended but my commitment to you has not."

She frowned again and slid out of the booth just as he started to reach for her. She stood still for a moment near the table to gain her balance and then headed down the stairs to the dance floor without looking back.

Thane ran his hand over the back of his head in frustration, rubbing along the frill on one side for a moment before straightening and composing himself. Speaking with Shepard had not gone the way he had wished. He watched Shepard join Kasumi and Tali and resolved to wait, trying to remain hopeful that she would return to talk with him. He noticed his side and his arm had begun to throb and he lifted it to examine himself briefly, bothered by the rips in his coat and the high probability of scars on his skin.

Thane disliked admitting that he took a certain pride in his appearance but he had only found it useful in his work and, regardless of everything else, his reliably sleek and appealing face and body pleased him, his wide dark eyes grounding and familiar when he caught sight of himself. His vanity, of course, was foolish, and he reminded himself that he was not his body, scars did not matter. The ever-present pressure in his chest should be reminder enough that his body would be gone soon.

Shepard would survive. He knew this in his soul. He watched her dance, pleasantly surprised that the jokes he had heard about "the Shepard shuffle" back on the Normandy proved incorrect. While she had seemed stiff or awkward for just a moment, the longer she danced, the more relaxed she became, abandoning inhibition and even seeming to forget her companions after a time. Her laughter simply became delight in movement; she was clearly enjoying herself, allowing herself to undulate to the pulse of the music, hips swaying and hands skimming across her body at times before returning to twist through the air around her.

Thane found her undeniably erotic, he was fascinated by her. Neither he nor Shepard noticed when Kasumi and Tali left. He was transfixed, and stood with the idea of joining her only to find himself crippled by vertigo. When his dizziness passed, he saw that she had gone as well.

...

Thane scanned the room, confirming what he already knew as the last of his control dissipated. He quickly padded down the stairs towards the door, moving without hesitation, stalking Shepard as he would any other prey. The split second of panic that overtook him when he realized she had disappeared from his view passed as his training took over and he was left with the reassuring, intense focus his work had made second nature to him. Outside the Afterlife, he quickly picked her out across the plaza, nearly at the door that led back to the Normandy. He crossed the area swiftly, slipping in behind her before the door closed, and shortly before she rounded the corner, he struck.

Thane came at Shepard in a flash, grabbing her wrist, prepared for the reaction of well-trained and cybernetically enhanced soldier. When she spun toward him she hesitated briefly as she recognized him and he took the opening immediately, catching her other wrist and shoving her against the sloped corner pillar behind her. She was caught off-guard and failed to find footing, unable to stand or push back effectively. "Thane!" she managed, winded, trying to make sense of his actions.

Thane kept her pinned with the strength of his legs and his weight pressing his body against hers, holding both of her wrists and keeping her arms twisted away at an awkward angle behind her. He was surprised that she made no move to resist but instead widened her stance to support some of their combined weight and then leaned her head back with a moan, exposing her neck to him. He felt his erection harden painfully in his tight leather suit and he stilled himself.

For a moment he couldn't breathe, but the sight of the long line of her throat prompted him to rub his face across it with a sigh. He kissed her just under her jaw, feeling her pulse thudding against his lips and tongue as he listened to her breath coming faster now, before licking up toward her ear. Her head moved easily to the side under his mouth and when Thane took her earlobe between his teeth she whimpered and tugged her arms against his grip.

Thane pulled his head back to look at her and Shepard moved quickly to kiss his lips. He kissed her savagely, pushing his tongue into her mouth, his hold on her wrists weakening. He felt her forearms turn in his hands as she shifted into a more natural position and relaxed beneath him, moaning again as he began to press his erection against her belly. His eyes rolled back and he broke their kiss, uncertain whether to be thankful or infuriated that he could not remove his leathers easily. He tried to pull back from her, but instead found himself sliding his body against hers as he searched her face, her eyes closed, the buckles of his suit catching on her dress and her breasts beneath it as he pushed his erection between her legs and against her pubic bone.

He looked down at their bodies, shocked and incredibly aroused to see her breasts had become fuller against him and he leaned his chest back a bit to see that her nipples were hardened and swollen, standing out clearly against the soft light material. "Siha!" he hissed at her, grinding his body slowly over hers. Shepard opened her eyes and gazed into his intently, her pupils growing larger in response to him, a flush building over her cheeks. Thane moved against her again, and her gasp this time when his buckles dragged over her nipples made him groan and seek her mouth, his voice now vibrating deeply in pleasure and amazement as his throat inflated.

Thane kept his forefingers and thumbs tight around her wrists, but allowed his other fingers to reach toward her, and discovered when he touched the bare flesh of her legs that his movements had pulled her dress up and out of his way. With one hand he could feel Shepard's skin and with the other he brushed her gun, sliding his fingers under one of the straps of her old-fashioned holster and pulling her leg closer to his hip. He raked the free fingers of his right hand across her thigh as he lifted his hips away from her, his eyes locked on hers.

His intention had been to explore her sex, to touch between her legs, but he had failed to consider that in shifting his hand he had moved hers as well, and he gasped to find her fingers touching him, barely teasing him. Thane groaned and let go of her wrist to pull her palm into place over him, bucking against the pressure and wrapping his fingers over hers to guide her movements, afraid she might stop. He began to kiss her again, feeling his body tremble and rock against her as she grasped him, suddenly realizing he had lost control of himself and the situation. His breathing was growing ragged and he heard himself moaning each time he snapped his hips toward her, heard her panting as she attempted to move the leg he held still higher along his hip.

With a loud, low growl he forced himself away from her, lacing his fingers through hers and holding them at her side while he lowered his forehead to her shoulder and closed his eyes to the sight of her breasts, trying to release the tension building in him. His neck was burning and he felt feverish as tried to calm himself. Shepard's effect on him was difficult to understand, when he had spent his life ignoring the needs of his body and the attraction he seemed to stir up in others, his few previous sexual experiences as reserved as anything else he had ever done save a handful of willful, feral murders.

_Her dress gapes open, chest covered in blood…_

His most painful memory began to rise up through his consciousness but he refused to acknowledge it, suddenly furious that the only pleasure or happiness he had found in ten years was threatened again by the darkest part of his past. He was determined to touch her, to enjoy her at least once before the memories took over again. Thane released his hold of Shepard's hands, gripping her hips and digging his fingers into her as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and touched the exposed skin of his back, and he guided her roughly toward the alcoves overlooking Omega along opposite wall of the corridor. She stumbled when her feet reached the base of the slope under the shelf, and he held one arm tightly around her, yanking her dress up before he allowed her to sit. He pulled her arms from around his neck and stood up, wanting to look at her.

Shepard rested her weight on her hands behind her, her feet propped against the slope and her knees bent and spread apart for him. With her dress draped around her hips, he could see her legs from the tops of her boots to the leather undergarment she wore, the twin straps of her holster cutting across her right thigh and her dress tangled in its low belt. She was barely able to hold still, and she sat forward to run her hands lightly over her breasts, staring at him. "Please, Thane," she said, nearly begging. "Please, I don't want to wait anymore…"

Before Shepard could say anything else, he was leaning over her, pushing his knee up under her leg to support his weight on the shelf and holding her other leg still with his hand. He felt her lips on his chest, her words becoming cries as she begged earnestly now. The lights of Omega filled his vision before he looked down and reached between them, his voice beginning to vibrate again in his chest and throat as he watched her fingers slide over her covered nipples. Thane tugged the leather between her legs aside as much as he could and then touched her carefully, surprised to find a small patch of damp hair when he traced his thumb over her, her swollen sex opening under his touch. When he pressed against the small, engorged nub he found there, Shepard threw her head back and moaned, her muscles tightening as if she had been shocked.

Thane rubbed her gently, his body shaking as he fought to restrain himself and he felt her reach under his coat to pull him closer. He placed his joined fingers against her wet center, just beginning to push them into her when she looked up at him and cried out. Her expression of intense arousal was clouded and her eyes wide as he felt a throb of pain at his side, realizing she had discovered his forgotten injuries.

"Thane, what is this?" she asked, her voice wavering, forcing his hand away from her and pressing her palm against his chest as she tried to get a better look at his side. "What happened to you, why didn't you say anything?"

"My work shouldn't concern you, Siha," he answered, unwilling to move away from her as he pulled her fingers from his side.

"Your work?" She yelled furiously, shoving him backward and glaring at him.

"Shepard?" They both turned to see Garrus standing several feet away, his hand resting on the pistol at his side. "Is there a problem?"


	11. Sickness

...

"_Now one knows whether the sick body and its needs unconsciously urge, push, and lure the spirit – toward the sun, stillness, mildness, patience, medicine, balm in some sense." - from The Gay Science, Friedrich Nietzsche_

_..._

Thane stared at Garrus, meeting his angry gaze evenly. From the corner of his eye he could see Shepard stand up from the alcove as she jerked her dress back down.

"Everything is fine, Garrus. I'll handle this," Shepard told him, keeping her voice calm.

Thane sensed Shepard was standing directly behind him now. He did not turn to her but watched Garrus instead, who did not move or let go of his weapon, his malice toward Thane apparent. He realized with a start that Garrus was not only Shepard's friend and right-hand man, but another suitor, a rival for her affection.

Thane tilted his head down, hearing the rumble of a low growl rising from his chest before Shepard cut him off.

"Goddammit, Thane! I will not tolerate the two of you behaving like a couple of overgrown varren. Garrus, I plan to have a word with you about this _later_. Now get lost!"

"I'll be waiting outside if you need me, Shepard," Garrus responded uneasily, backing slowly toward the Omega entrance. Thane got the feeling that Garrus would have liked nothing more than raise his gun and fire a shot into him.

"What the _hell_ are you thinking?" Shepard nearly spat at him as he faced her. "I've already had it up to here with Jack and Miranda, and now I've got two of my best facing off like hormonal adolescents…"

"You clearly have his eye, Shepard," Thane stated, surprised at his own possessiveness.

"What business is it of yours?" Shepard snapped before starting again. "Look, it was my understanding that you were still a part of my crew, and as such, you aren't authorized to go around assassinating people without checking with me first!"

"I thought it best that I put my skills to some use. I have been of no use to anyone since we left the Collector Base."

"That was days ago! You couldn't sit tight just a little bit longer?"

"I am a weapon; I was trained for one purpose. My time is very limited and I do not wish to spend any more of it 'sitting tight' in your ship." Thane could see no reason to add that his recurrent difficult memories and his body's response to her did not encourage him to be still.

Shepard pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and shaking her head in frustration.

"I fail to understand why this would be a problem, Shepard."

"It's a problem when you risk your health and get yourself hurt over whatever small-time criminal you were trying to take out, _plus_ you lied to me about it as well. It is also a problem when you engage in activities that could potentially jeopardize what little good-will might still be left from the Alliance or anyone else who could help me."

Thane bristled. "Don't insult me, Shepard. I am one of the best in my line of work, not an errand boy. My employers understand this and my work is not something they take so lightly. It is not something you should take lightly either. My targets are valuable, or my employers would hire someone else, and I doubt my marks will be able to identify me afterward."

"I don't care who your target was, Thane," Shepard responded, eyes narrowing. "It doesn't matter so long as the Reapers are coming. If you are going to be a part of my crew, I need you healthy and in one piece and I need to be able to trust you as much as my crew members want to know they can trust me. The fact is that you lied to me. You told me you weren't working when you'd just finished doing god knows what. Why didn't you at least go see Chakwas for your injuries?"

"I did not lie, Siha. The job was finished. We have misunderstood each other." Thane watched her closely, a sense of foreboding settling into his gut as he gathered from her cold expression that his answer had not been sufficient to placate her.

"Thane, you need to get whatever equipment you have in Life Support, let Chakwas make sure you're okay, and then you need to get off my ship. Because you know what? I'm _done_ with this. I can't have people working for me who don't respect my authority. Whatever has been going on between us, I'm done with that too. One day you can't get away from me fast enough and the next I get…"

Shepard made a strangled sound and then stomped her foot in frustration, her eyes flashing at him in anger before she spun and headed down the hallway toward the Normandy door.

Thane was stunned. The rush of the hunt and the self-indulgence of finally allowing his body to take pleasure in her without restriction drained from him as he stood a moment, staring down the empty hall after her. He didn't see any point in going back; he had his preferred weapons and he could seek medical treatment elsewhere, if he decided it was necessary. He wasn't sure he should bother to repair a body that had so little life left anyway. He was torn between dread at the notion that he might not see her again, and a sudden sense of shame for having betrayed her trust.

Before his emotions could catch hold of him or send him after her, Thane moved toward the door that led to Omega, picking up speed and bolting through as it opened. He saw Garrus pacing nearby and pushed past before Garrus detected him, overcoming the urge to knock him flat as he went. Such behavior was uncalled for, however much he might desire it, and he was pleased to recognize that he had regained firm control of himself despite everything. Shepard had made her decision and he supposed he couldn't blame her for it. In truth, Garrus likely had more to offer her than he ever would.

Siha deserved more than a dying assassin who could not even be trusted to keep his mind present with her when he held her in his arms, who might not even be alive when the time came to fight the Reapers. He could not properly love or defend her; his mind would always be weighted by the past and his body was already succumbing to the crushing pressure of his illness.

Thane continued to move, driving himself away from her, heedless of direction and his body's protest as his lungs began to tighten. When his vision blackened and he crashed to the ground, he felt only gratitude. He was ready to return to the sea.

...

Thane awakened easily, bright light suddenly cutting into his darkened world through closed eyelids. He had not experienced the long, slow swim from twilight to consciousness that he had on other occasions after an injury. Instead he was alert again with the simple, clear realization that his body lay stretched across a hard surface and a bit of rough cloth was draped over him. He felt stiff and cold, but otherwise strong.

He opened his eyes and recognized the Normandy med-bay immediately, uncertain how he had come here when his last memory was of darting out into the filthy, surreal world of the Omega station and he saw no one in this sterile room who could enlighten him. Perhaps most disturbing was the dawning realization that his body was undressed under the light sheet, save for the reassuring feel of his metal collar pressing against the back of his neck and resting heavily over his clavicles. Regardless of whatever pride he took in his refined form, he had spent a lifetime prepared to react quickly to changing circumstances; nudity was a luxury he rarely indulged himself in for any period of time.

To find himself undressed was to feel more vulnerable and exposed to harm. Thane's suit was the second skin that walled him away from the unpredictability of a dangerous life, a last minor defense should his skills fail him. He was more rational than he had been in days but too many emotions still crowded within him that he could not easily process. With his fine green flesh exposed to the chilly air of the room and hints of unhappy memories fleeting through his mind, he imagined the confines of his leathers were also the means to contain the disagreeable or unnecessary feelings that were now threatening to escape him.

Thane sat up and pulled the sheet from him with one graceful move, bracing himself against the cold as he swung his legs over the side of the table. A quick examination of his arm and side revealed that he was healing rapidly and well; he supposed he might have been in this room as long as two days. He took a deep breath and was surprised to discover the draw came more easily than it had for some time, his lungs accommodating the expansion with minimal protest or pain. He slid his fingers across the smooth surface of his collar for a moment, taking comfort in it as he looked around, but the whereabouts of his clothing were not readily apparent.

Thane lowered his bare feet to the floor, not suppressing the shiver that worked its way up his legs to warm him and began to methodically stretch his cramped muscles. When they were sufficiently loosened, he endeavored to find his suit and coat, looking around the med-bay for storage compartments that might house it. He started nearest the table where he had awakened and worked his way around the room, his irritation growing as he failed to find them. He had begun to check the cabinets under Chakwas' desk when the door to the med-bay opened and the doctor herself entered.

"Mr. Krios," she greeted him kindly, "I thought we might see you again today in the land of the living." She smiled at him and clasped her hands before her as the door slid closed. Thane had not heard this particular Human idiom and merely nodded as he straightened himself.

"My garments, Dr. Chakwas. Commander Shepard has asked that I leave the Normandy, and I prefer to honor her request as soon as possible."

"EDI, please let Commander Shepard know that Mr. Krios is awake."

"Affirmative, Dr. Chakwas."

"Mr. Krios, Shepard has taken possession of your personal items, including your clothing. She assumed you would want to leave immediately, but I think she wanted to ensure she had the opportunity to speak with you first."

"I see," said Thane calmly, careful to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Perhaps you would like to sit while we wait? I want to speak with you as well. You are very lucky one of Mr. Massani's colleagues found you in the lower levels and recognized you as his associate and even luckier that he bothered to share that information rather than kill you or turn you over to someone else. I expect he did not inform Mr. Massani out of the goodness of his heart either, although I am not familiar with the details of the arrangement." Chakwas indicated one of the tables.

"I prefer to stand."

"Very well, Mr. Krios. You have done a poor job in looking after your health while you have been with the Normandy and I wish you had come in to see me more often, as I asked you to when you joined us. It is indeed fortunate that you were brought to me in time; not only had your condition worsened, but you acquired an opportunistic lung infection as well. My guess is that the stress of our mission through the Omega-4 relay combined with your failure to take preventative measures to protect yourself on the Collector Base has weakened your immune system considerably and made you quite susceptible to additional illness." Chakwas approached her work area and picked up a datapad lying near him on the counter, prompting Thane to move away from her and stand next to the table where he had recuperated, keeping his arms relaxed at his side despite the awkwardness of his present state.

"You know, I am a big believer in the importance of mitigating the effects of stress on the body where possible. Of course, given your line of work and our recent mission, I realize that is easier said than done." Chakwas looked over the datapad quietly before returning it to the counter. She rested on the edge of the surface and crossed her arms as she continued. "Cerberus outfitted the ship with an advanced medical facility, and while I do not have access to the kind of technology that healed our Commander so beautifully, I was able to take care of the secondary infection. However, I was unable repair the resulting additional damage to your lung tissue. While I imagine you feel much better, you are in fact worse off than you would have been otherwise. Of course, I dealt with your injuries as well, and you will be fine in that regard. The scarring to your arm and side should be minimal."

The door opened again and Shepard walked in, holding Thane's neatly folded leathers against her chest with one arm. She stopped, her eyes widening at the sight of him.

She waited across the room, some several feet away from him, but Thane's body responded to her immediately, hardening even as he clenched his fists and looked away. He gazed instead at the assortment of equipment on Chakwas' workstation, his face turned away from Shepard's curious expression.

Chakwas smiled at Shepard before continuing to address him. "I cannot stress enough the importance of taking care of yourself, and I would like you to reconsider the possibility of a lung transplant. I think you could potentially live quite a bit longer than you have previously been led to believe, certainly on the order of several more months or perhaps even a few years, and maintain a comfortable quality of life, provided you look after yourself and allow us to do what we can to improve your health. You cannot ignore your well-being as you have been and expect to survive much longer." Chakwas glanced at Shepard again.

"Please excuse me. I will be back to check on you and answer any questions, and I would like to plan a continued course of treatment, whether you pursue that with me or with another physician." Chakwas considered the datapad at her station but walked toward the door empty-handed and nodded at Shepard as she left, the hiss of the door marking her absence.

Thane did not move, his sense of vulnerability greater now that he was alone with Shepard. He turned himself away from her to brace his hands on the edge of the table, suddenly ashamed to find himself in this weakened position, his arousal clearly exposed to her.

"Thane?" Shepard addressed him quietly.

"Shepard, I will leave immediately. I need only my garments. I can replace everything else myself."

"I want to talk to you."

Thane allowed himself to look at her, quickly averting his eyes to the table in front of him when he realized the sight of her would only result in his further humiliation and make leaving her more difficult.

"I want to apologize, Shepard. I am not accustomed to working with a group or answering to a commanding officer. Since I completed my training I have only ever been given necessary information on my targets and then I handled my contracts alone. It never occurred to me that I should not continue to take other jobs when I joined your mission."

"If you can just put your other work aside and stay in one piece, I want you to continue as part of my team. I know that will be hard for you to do, but I need you. You're too good, your skills are too valuable for you to throw your life away." Shepard slowly approached him. "I want you to help me take down a much bigger threat than any one person or group you've gone after before now."

Thane closed his eyes as she neared him, smelling her, feeling the heat coming off her as he gripped the table more tightly, his muscles drawing up with his tension. He could hear her breathing and the rustle of his clothing in her arms.

_I hold her arms, my fingers wrapped around her wrists as I press my body against hers and push my tongue into her mouth. My body trembles, my voice reverberating in my chest._

"Look," Shepard took a step closer, "I'm glad that you're okay. Do you know what you looked like when Zaeed and Grunt carried you in here?" She was quiet for a moment before adding softly, "I thought you were dead at first, you were barely breathing. I don't want to lose you. I care about you, remember?"

He could sense her reaching in front of him and then heard the soft thud of his leathers hitting the table, the rush of disturbed air puffing against his stomach, cool against his rapidly warming skin. He wanted to touch her.

"I would ask that you to pardon my indiscretions, in particular my recent behavior toward you." He barely managed to force the words out, his deep voice wavering. "Although I recognize that I do not deserve your forgiveness. My conduct was ill-considered and disrespectful."

_I slide my fingers roughly across her thigh, reaching toward her sex. She touches me and I groan, pulling her hand against me as I roll my hips toward her seeking relief, my erection throbbing in her grip._

Thane startled when he felt Shepard's fingertips brush across the inside of his elbow but he refused to look at her. "My lack of restraint was contemptible. I am sorry I was so coarse with you and I will not allow it to happen again. I think it best that I leave, and perhaps you can forgive my failure in this way as well. I am a poor companion to you and a poor agent in your fight."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, as far as that goes. I liked it. I like what you do to me."

_Her legs are spread apart, my hand and my knee holding them wide as I push my fingers into her. Her flesh is warm and wet, and I want so much to…_

Shepard's warm hand opened and spread across his arm, gently descending down the sensitive side of his wrist before she laid her hand over the top of his, slipping her fingers between his palm and the table. "Please look at me, Thane."

He opened his eyes and turned his face to her. She was close, her worried eyes looked clear and beautiful and the sight of her soft lips drew him closer.

"I understand that you have a lot going on in that head of yours, and I hope you'll talk to me about it when you're ready. I'll wait, and you can take some time to work things out and heal up. Just please don't go until you've talked to me about it first. I'm here whenever you need me. But if you are staying, I'll need your assurance that you won't be working outside of my command again."

"Of course, Siha."

She let go of his hand and turned to leave as Thane admired the solid, confident stride he had come to know so well. When she was gone, he let go of the breath he had not realized he was holding and relaxed his arms. Slumping over the table, he rested his elbows and forearms on his folded coat, his clasped hands supporting his head as he reflected on their conversation. It was difficult to focus and his erection had not yet subsided; he considered stroking himself as the image of her face and the memory of her touch returned to him, but he had never taken much pleasure in his own hands except for killing. It would simply frustrate him more and stoke his desire for her.

Thane straightened himself instead shook out his coat and suit, delighted to see that Shepard had had them repaired, the damage almost imperceptible to his keen eyes.

_**A/N - I have decided to call this story complete, though I may come back to it some day. Thane's poorly-handled character in Mass Effect 3 basically broke the spell for me.**_

_**For anyone who might have wondered about the title "Returning," it was intended to reference one of the chapters I never wrote. For each chapter, I selected a quote I felt was appropriate to the mood, themes or symbolism therein, and allowed it to suggest or illuminate aspects of my story. The quote for this particular unwritten chapter would have come from the Tao Teh Ching.**_

_**"The movement of the Tao consists in Returning. The use of the Tao consists in softness. All things under heaven are born of the corporeal: The corporeal is born of the Incorporeal."**_

_**The original idea of "Returning," and of this unwritten chapter in particular, was to allow my conflicted Thane to understand that mind and body do not necessarily exclude one another. Perhaps he could have found peace in Shepard's practical, grounded world; sexuality, naturally, would have been one means of Thane's understanding that the spiritual and physical realms might be tied together.**_

_**I also liked the idea of a return to something like innocence or simplicity. Thane seemed so unhappy when we first met him in ME2, and mine in particular struggled with himself in many ways. I wanted him to regain to those parts of himself he had excised in grief. Ultimately, of course, it seemed likely that Thane would return to the Incorporeal in the ultimate sense as well, but other authors have handled that part of his story much better than I could.**_

_**Thanks for reading. :)**_


End file.

Mass Effect, Angst, Romance