[Closed] If You Talk Enough Sense, Then You'll Lose Your Mind

[apurrstate]

Who: Anders and Adalwolfe Hawke
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Three Twins Clinic
When: Forward-dated to the 9th

He was slow to wake up. Little things occurred to him first: his face itched. There was something small and warm laying on his chest, too small to be Fat Tom. The bed under him was softer than the ground he'd laid down on, but not as soft as the bed he'd left behind in Orlais.

He didn't know where he was.

There was a stirring in the back of his mind. Panic trickled through him and just behind it like fire lighting on oil was Justice, feeding on it and waking faster to respond. What if he'd been captured at last? Hawke would be waiting at Weisshaupt and never know what if-?

The blue cracks he'd felt bursting around his eyes faded as quickly as they'd shown up as Anders himself woke enough to sense the aura of comfort and safety that hung nearby. The purring warmth at his chest, the sense of magic familiar and safe and trusted to his side. He was fine. Everything was fine.

Slowly, a slightly unsteady hand rose to pet the warmth on his chest and the soft kitten-fuzz under his fingers confirmed this wasn't the rescued barn cat he'd been with last. Bleary amber eyes cracked open and a rough smile broke across his face. "Pounce?" The kitten nuzzled against Anders' jaw despite the hair there and Anders' hands came up to curl gently around his long-lost cat. "I must be dreaming." His voice was ragged from lack of use, but the happiness in it was hard to miss.

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[apurrstate]

So am I! It hisses in his mind as a contention instead of understanding, but it doesn't pass his lips. He wasn't, not really. He was as much Ferelden as he was Anders or Kirkwaller. He was nothing and had no loyalty.

Except to Hawke.

But Hawke cared too much. He cared too much and too deeply about everything and Anders shouldn't expect to be the first thing on his lover's mind. He shouldn't feel hurt. Of course Hawke offered. He was Hawke.

Anders loved him for everything that made him Hawke, including that.

But it didn't stop him from pulling away, from turning out of Hawke's hold to look anywhere but at that face he was sure to see. He knew the answer before he'd asked and Hawke surely knew his reaction before Anders reacted. His heart clenched and so did his hands into fists, anger swirling in him like phoenix born from the ashes of his hurt. Don't, don't, don't! He'll only make it worse, he'll only take his pain and turn it into a knife to cut at Hawke with because that was all he was good at. All Anders could do was hurt Hawke when he only ever tried his best to do what was right.

His voice is tense, like a wire ready to break under strain, but it doesn't shake. "You promised me you'd come back."

[wolfehawke]

"I would have, if we hadn't been brought here." Its splitting hairs and he knows it but it's also the plain truth and he pulls it up like a shield.

He can't look at Anders, can't see the hurt and disappointment he knows will be there, the whipped anger from which he deserves each lash. Adalwolfe stays where he is, lets Anders rise, and all he does is fold his arms loosely across his lap. It's not even a proper defense, more a shiver against elements than a bid to protect himself. He doesn't deserve the privilege.

"Did you think you mattered, Hawke? Did you think anything you ever did mattered?"

The truth of it, the real truth, is that he'd been thinking of Anders the whole time. Thinking of what the Nightmare had said, the truth of it that turned Hawke inside out. It had made him doubt, had made him question himself in the most insidious way. Nothing he'd done had mattered, nothing but keeping Anders alive. That, that mattered to him, and so long as that remained true it was alright, he could get through this like anything else.

"Anders is going to die. Just like your family, and everyone you ever cared about."

Bloody demons.

He'd stopped walking for half a moment, the eyes of the party on him, boring holes into his chest just after the Nightmare had wounded him fatally. It was inevitable, wasn't it? It seemed at the time, even as they'd evaded capture and death for years since Kirkwall. Eventually someone would find them, the wanted apostates who'd murdered a Grand Cleric, who'd destroyed a sanctuary of the most holy. They would find them, and all they needed was to have one unlucky day.

For all he knows, Anders is dead already without Hawke to protect him.

Varric puts a hand against his side and it elicited a sharp noise, somewhere between a laugh and a growl. "Well that will grow tiresome quickly."

They moved on.

But something in Hawke had shriveled, some trick of the Fade to sap his resolve. His hope. In that moment, he'd known he wasn't going to survive. It was an odd sort of clarity, made things easier to have a foregone conclusion.

Afterwards, Varric had called it a moment of weakness when Hawke had confided in him. Brushed it off just like that. Just a momentary lapse but now everything was fine. Only he'd nearly not come back. He'd abandoned all hope and if it hadn't been for Lavellan...

Adalwolfe brings the heels of his hands to his eyes, mouth cut in a grimace. He swallows, trying to speak, but no words come.

[apurrstate]

He's silent. He should say something. He wants Hawke to say something, but he's not even sure what.

"Hawke..."

His insides feel like they're full of glass. His thoughts turned sharp and blistering, tearing at his mind. Things he didn't want to think about, possibilities that couldn't be possibilities, but they still rang in his mind. He couldn't stand it.

He turned back towards Hawke, took a deep breath and reached for his lover's wrists to tug them away. "Look at me." The strain was still there in his voice, but it was something more than anger causing it.

"...thank you for coming back."

[wolfehawke]

"I almost didn't," he replies brokenly, letting Anders take his wrists, letting him see the red around his eyes, the circles, the wrinkles, the despair. "I gave up."

He doesn't cry - he can count the number of times he's cried as an adult on one hand - but he does let out a dry sob, leaning into Anders, resting his forehead against the hollow of his chest. "I'm so sorry. If it wasn't for the Inquisitor, I..."

Adalwolfe breathes hard, trying to master himself, trying to breathe. When he speaks again, he sounds more put together verbally, but he still doesn't lift his head. "The Nightmare, it's called that for a reason. Every doubt, every terrible thing I've ever heard about myself, thought about myself, it just regurgitated it all. Casually. Booming over the entire Fade. I'm not proud of it, but it... it broke me."

A shaky breath and he finally looks up, meets Anders' eyes. "I've lost everyone, Anders. Everyone but you and it's... it's inevitable, isn't it? The lives we lead? And even if that doesn't claim us, the Calling..."

His fingers curl to stem the shaking. He clears his throat. "But that's no reason to throw away the time we do have. I'm so sorry, Anders."

[apurrstate]

Adalwolfe's head goes to Anders' chest and Anders wraps his arms around Hawke's shoulders. It hurt, knowing what pained his love and not being able to offer any condolence. Well...almost none. But did it really help? That was here and they would surely go home. But he didn't want Hawke to live in fear of losing him.

One hand crawls up Hawke's back and long fingers pet soft hair. He takes calming breaths to loosen the coil in his chest and ensure his voice would sound more even, more assuring.

"You're just a man, Hawke. I wouldn't expect you not to have your breaking point. Everyone does." Anders had found his in Kirkwall and Hawke had pulled him back from it, allowed him time and support to pick up the pieces and try again. The least he could offer was the same in return.

"But you came back from it." He pulled Adalwolfe as close to him as he could. "The Calling..." He hesitates now, but presses on after a moment. "We still have, what? Twenty more years we could have together? For some, that's a life time. By the end...we'll have spent more time together than apart. I..admit, it scares me too, but having what time I can with you is all the blessing I could ever ask for." He tries, but his voice wavers before he catches it and forces it even again. "I-I'll forgive you if you promise not to let it go again. Remember I want every last second with you I can steal away."

A lightly shaky but quiet breath and he pulls away, hands going to the sides of Hawke's face to meet his eyes. "Besides, a semi-reliable source told me the taint doesn't spread here, so whatever time we have on the fleet is like a gift." It was the silver lining, the best he could offer in a bleak situation. It was bittersweet knowing whatever happiness they could find would only last as long as there was sand in Anders' hourglass, but it made the moments they did have, sweeter.

[wolfehawke]

"Then I don't even want to look for a way back." His mouth is dry as he says it, knowing he should, knowing he misses the rest of his family, his friends, his world. Knowing he has a responsibility to help do away with what is his fault, what he unleashed upon the world. But Anders is right. He's just a man.

A man who's lost too much. Who can't stand to lose more.

He leans Anders into him, pulling the blond against him not just to break eye contact but to hold what he can't lose. He can't stand Anders knowing he broke, doesn't even want to believe it himself. He's supposed to be the rock, the support. After Kirkwall, it just became that much more imperative that he never show any real weakness. Complaining about conditions, anger over the conflict, that was all fine, but real weakness - doubt about the future, doubt about his abilities, about Anders - that he can't show.

Yet now he has.

"I want a lifetime with you. A proper one. Without Templars or Circles or Chantry law. Without Corypheus and without the Wardens or the taint. Just you and me." He breathes into Anders' neck, somehow calm despite the outpouring of emotion that came before. "You and me."

[apurrstate]

He's stunned by Hawke's answer and he's not even sure if he should be or not. But he lets himself be pulled into Hawke's hold and loosely curls his fingers into his love's shirt. He wants to hold Hawke, to let him know everything is okay, that he doesn't think any less of his champion for being a normal man when it was what Anders knew all along. But he also wanted to be held, to know this fool he loved, who loved him, was truly still with him, was safe and whole and not going anywhere for a long while yet. His fingers uncurled and he wraped his arms around Hawke instead. They could hold each other.

"I want that too." Maker did he ever want that. Once upon a time, it was all he'd dreamed of. Boys in little villages didn't aspire for much more than replacing their parents and that had seemed enough to him; marry someone he loved, settle in their home with his own life and happiness, just existing together. Then he'd gotten his magic and why else had he fought so long and so hard and given up everything, including himself, than to allow mages the chance to have that same kind of quiet life?

Maybe they could find that peace they'd found in Orlais here. At least for a little while. That would be nice.

"No matter where we are, let's just try to stay together."

[wolfehawke]

"Good," Wolfe breathes against Anders' neck, into the feathers at his shoulders that brush his face just as gently as the mage's fingers do. This is all he wants of what he can actually have. A snug place at his lover's side, arms curled around each other with the assurance that this exact place is where they want to be. He'll allow himself this weakness just a moment longer.

The feathers ruffle with a soft laugh from Adalwolfe, amusement striking his features, smoothing them out save for the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. It's not lost on them what they've gotten out of being brought here, one of Anders' fondest dreams, though not in the way either of them had imagined.

"At least it didn't take a hundred years for this."

[apurrstate]

The laugh that escapes him is sharp, surprised and amused, and Anders pulls back with an incredulous look. "You remember what I said? Even then on the brink of battle?"

Incredulity melts into a wide smile. "But I suppose you're right. I can love you here without fear anyone will try to tear us apart. Thank the Maker." His eyes searched Hawke's and he leaned in to press a kiss to Hawke's lips. "You make me happier than I have any right to be. I love you, Adalwolfe."

[wolfehawke]

The kiss tastes a little like salt, a little like lyrium, and a little like home. Adalwolfe pushes into it gratefully. "And you me. I love you too, Anders. Of course I remember. It's all I've wanted ever since."