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Anders was both always and never alone. For the past few years, Justice had been his constant companion. But before that, Anders had found himself alone at twelve years old and he never quite found someone again. He was surrounded by people, and completely alone.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had Karl, for a time. Karl, his first love. Because that was what it had been… love. Anders hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time, he could only now recognize those feelings for what they were after poor Karl was dead.
Anders had been a fun friend in that tower, but only a casual one. He never got too attached to his friends, always knowing the danger that brought. Everyone knew his name, but no one knew his heart. Again, Karl was the exception. And look how that turned out?
With Justice, Anders was never alone. But he couldn’t talk to Justice, and he always had to be wary of the spirit’s interference. He loved Justice in his own way, but that love was complicated. It was a love you had to hold for yourself, a love you needed to survive. Anders wasn’t good at loving himself though, he never had been.
He loved his cause. He devoted himself to the freedom of mages, not a person. A person could be taken away from him, a cause would never die. Anders could work long hours writing, organizing, healing, and it all went to something bigger than him. If Anders were a better person, that would be enough to sustain him.
But Anders wanted more, weak man that he was. He wanted the touch of another, he wanted that warm feeling of skin on skin. He wanted to hold and be held, to love and be loved.
In Anders’ idle fantasies, a man named Garrett Hawke held him. Hawke, strong and constant, brave and dashing. In these fantasies, Hawke held Anders in his arms and nothing ever took him away. Was it weak to want someone to hold him like that, like he was something precious and not something volatile? Probably. Anders, after all, was a weak man.
Justice allowed him to sustain himself on less than a normal man would need. Less food, less sleep, less time to heal. Anders had the fortitude of a spirit, but not the mind of one. In his mind, he yearned for mortal comforts.
As time went on in Kirkwall, Anders wished more and more that he could let himself be absorbed into Justice instead of Justice being absorbed into him. In a better world, Justice would have made him resilient. Instead, he made Justice volatile.
One way Anders was weak was that he just couldn’t say no to Hawke. Hawke always came by to ask him to accompany him on various tasks and outings, and Anders always said yes. He tried to say no, he tried to say he was busy healing the sick and helping the oppressed, but… Hawke gave him that look. That look, the one that spoke of adventure and friendship and warmth and-
Well, Hawke was good at saying a lot with just his eyes. In one word, he was inviting. And Anders could never turn that invitation down, not as long as he pined like he did.
And oh, Anders pined. He pined like a lovesick teenager, he pined like a maiden in a romance novel. He wanted Hawke so much it hurt, he lay awake at night aching for the next time Hawke would give him that look.
Anders didn’t need food, didn’t need sleep, but he needed Hawke. He indulged in every opportunity, he drank in Hawke’s presence like a starved man.
This had to stop. It needed to stop a long time ago. Anders wasn’t meant for romance, he was meant to be alone. What did Anders know about pleasing someone, about being a partner? Whatever he and Karl had didn’t get the chance to bloom, so Anders didn’t know what he would have done. And that had been before he gave himself to the cause, before he was both spirit and man.
Hawke could have anyone. Anyone at all. He could have someone not tied down to a cause, to someone without tainted blood. Anders was going to die fighting, he didn’t need to drag Hawke down with him.
So really… he didn’t need Hawke. He wanted Hawke, but like always, he didn’t need anyone. He was alone. He was meant to be alone. He didn’t need food, he didn’t need sleep, and he didn’t need love. In the world he fought for, mages could love. This was not yet that world.
One day when Hawke came around asking for help again, Anders… knew he should have said no. But he didn’t, he said yes.
So off Anders went one day to… well, it wasn’t technically the Deep Roads. They were in the structures built long ago by dwarves that led to the proper Deep Roads, and they were looking for a new outpost of the Carta. Aveline had called in a favor with Hawke, and Hawke now called in favors with Isabela, Varric, and Anders.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Isabela had told Hawke, clearly teasing. “Even luckier I like fighting behind you…”
Hawke let out a bark of laughter as they walked and it echoed off the stone walls. Anders looked away uncomfortably against the sting of jealousy that tore through him. Hawke was not his, was certainly not meant to be his.
Hawke wasn’t Isabela’s either though, as much as she had made an effort at a one night stand.
As Varric and Hawke walked ahead, Isabela hung back.
“Any progress?” Anders asked with a completely feigned sense of casualness. “I’m surprised he hasn’t taken the bait.”
“Don’t compare my gorgeous body to bits of fish meat,” Isebala replied, all in good humor.
“But no, nothing has happened. And it’s not going to happen.”
Anders liked the sound of that, though he knew he should have no opinion whatsoever. Hawke was not his.
“Why isn’t it?” Anders couldn’t help but ask.
“Our fearless leader is a romantic,” Isabela smiled. “And I am, well, not. He doesn’t want some no strings attached fun. He wants very many strings, very attached. And not in a fun bondage way.”
“Not even for Hawke?” Anders asked before he thought better. “If anyone could change your wicked ways, wouldn’t it be him?”
Isabela shook her head, then gave Anders a quizzical smile. “I don’t see him like that, sweet thing. I just don’t. If you think he’s so special, why aren’t you in his pants yet?”
Anders felt a blush creep up to his ears in a way that never happened before he and Justice merged.
“Haven’t got the time,” Anders managed to reply. “And who says I would see him that way?”
Isabela laughed. “I do, for starters. And Varric does too, he’s already plotted ahead in Tales of the Champion for the hero to get himself entangled with a mysterious mage healer.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Anders shook his head. “Varric should explore other avenues for his novel, maybe wait to find out who Hawke actually ends up with?”
“I’m not entirely convinced it won’t be you,” Isabela said quietly. “He would, you know… if you asked. And it wouldn’t be just one night.”
“Well, I’m not going to ask,” Anders replied while not meeting Isabela’s eyes.
“You’re no fun,” Isabela booed gently. “You’re so busy and stressed all the time… maybe getting fucked by Hawke would fuck some of that stress away?”
Anders only blushed harder, hating how it felt.
“I’m not trying to get my heart broken on top of the never ending battle for mage freedom,” Anders muttered. That was a mistake.
“You say that like he’d come and then kick you off the bed! He’d at least cuddle…”
“I’m like him, Isabela,” Anders replied. “I don’t want just one night, cuddling or no cuddling.”
“Did Justice change that?” Isabela asked. “Because we fucked and neither of us are pining away.”
“…yes,” Anders lied. A giant lie, really. The truth was that Anders had been with people since merging with Justice. The mage underground, while not a place to form relationships, was a place where many young people were in a great need of some stress relief.
Isabela knew he was lying, he could tell. She continued to talk to him, even quieter but not without mischief.
“I think you like him. I think you’re afraid of sleeping with him because you’d want more.”
“And what if I did?” Anders snapped, then felt immediate guilt. Isabela didn’t seem offended, at least. “Hawke wouldn’t want me, so that’s just off the table. No use thinking about it.”
“… that’s simply not true,” Isabela chided, though some of her humor was gone. “I think he’s quite interested, if not completely smitten.”
“Hawke flirts with everyone,” Anders replied.
“Not like he flirts with you. There’s something so earnest in his eyes…”
“Then he’s smitten with who he thinks I am,” Anders said. “He doesn’t know… well, there’s a lot about me that none of you know.”
They didn’t know about how he slept with a candle burning, how the sudden scraping of armor still made his skin crawl. They hadn’t seen him at his highest, and then how he crashed down. Anders was… a mess. There was something even uglier underneath these thoughts, words Anders didn’t want to contemplate. Men like him weren’t meant to be loved. Mages weren’t loved. Abominations weren’t loved.
If Anders had Hawke, it would need to be love. He could not covet Hawke casually, easily. Anders could not afford to scratch the surface of his feelings for that man because they contained depths that terrified him. He had gone down that path before… and it ended with Anders holding a bloody dagger.
Anders was poison. He destroyed everything he touched, so he didn’t want to contemplate what he did to what he loved.
I’m not alone, a voice told him. I’m meant to be alone, the same voice said. Anders was terrified of true loneliness, he had been ever since that terrible year locked away.
Another voice in his mind drifted by, this one not belonging to him.
You’re not alone, you will never be alone again.
Justice. They couldn’t communicate, but Anders could sometimes hear him in this distant way. Even knowing Justice would always be there, he still needed to keep talking for fear of his voice being taken. For fear of no one listening. Anders knew half his companions didn’t want to hear about mage freedom, but… If Anders stayed quiet, would he simply drift away into the stone walls of a dark cell?
Anders shook his head. The point was, he didn’t need Hawke. Hawke’s company was a sinful indulgence of his, he didn’t need it. He didn’t deserve it, but Anders had never been good at resisting what he didn’t deserve.
“Let’s settle down for the night,” Hawke told the group. “The Carta should be up ahead and off to the side, but we’ve been walking for hours and I want us all in good shape for that fight.”
“What if they find us here in the night?” Isabela asked.
“Then we say we’re headed to the Deep Roads. Aveline said their little alcove is off that path, so they won’t think we’ll run into their operation until it’s too late.”
Isabela shrugged, willing to go alone with this plan. They all set up bedrolls, and Anders dearly wished he had his candle with him. He could make light with magic, but that would burn mana he needed for the fight. It wasn’t likely he would get any sleep with everyone else’s torches extinguished.
Sure enough, when the last torch was out Anders felt his chest tighten. Everyone else was settling into bed, Hawke taking the first watch.
Anders was meant to be sleeping, but he just knew no sleep would happen that night.
Unfortunately Hawke noticed.
“You’re still awake,” he said quietly after an hour. “Anders?”
“Yes?” Anders asked in return. Damn it, how did Hawke know-
“I didn’t hear you snoring,” Hawke continued. Ah, that explained it. “You usually snore when we camp out. You should really try to sleep, you’ll need energy for the fight.”
“You say that like I’m not trying,” Anders grumbled, sitting up in his bedroll. He was close to Hawke, but not close enough to feel any comfort from it.
“Oh,” Hawke said. “Right. Yeah, that’s a weird thing to assume. I guess… I guess I’m asking what’s wrong?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, Hawke,” Anders assured him.
“If you’re not sleeping, it’s not ordinary. Unless… do you often not sleep? Is that why you look so ragged?”
Anders curled his knees up to his chest. He didn’t want to be talking about this. In truth, he didn’t sleep as often as a mortal man should.
“I sleep in my clinic,” Anders replied. “It’s just… hard to sleep so close to the Deep Roads, is all.”
Hawke didn’t reply for a moment, and Anders realized it must be because he detected the lie. Anders was rubbish at lying, especially to Hawke. But Anders was not about to tell him he needed to sleep with a candle lit like a child.
Hawke looked concerned, and like he wanted to say something. He… didn’t.
_____________________
Hawke continued the night with idle chat, but he frequently fell into a lapse of silence to give Anders an easy way out of the conversation so he could sleep. Anders never did, just continuing on from where Hawke trailed off.
It worried Hawke, it really did. He already had suspicions that Anders didn’t sleep well, and he had the gut feeling that something was particularly wrong tonight. Hawke was good at catching lies, and Anders was a terrible liar.
Hawke had been trying to take care of Anders, as silly as that sounded. He invited him for dinner so he knew he was eating and he made sure to check up on him at the clinic when he hadn’t surfaced for a few days. Hawke was used to taking care of people, not a trait typically associated with people of his roguish skill set.
Varric had once told Hawke that he was going to have to be up front about his intentions to Anders or he’d never get it. Hawke wished he could have pretended he didn’t know what Varric was talking about, but he did. Hawke’s feelings were obvious to everyone but the man Hawke was at this point pining for. Maker, he wanted Anders. He wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to hold him, to cherish and protect him.
Anders was funny, kind, and passionate. Hawke was used to getting by and not sticking his neck out for fear of retaliation. He made jokes and made friends, never rocking the boat. Anders let his righteous fury show every day, he let the world know how it made him suffer.
Anders insisted that Hawke didn’t need to fight a fight that wasn’t his, but Hawke disagreed on both fronts. First, he could fight for Anders’ cause. Second, it was his cause too. He was the child of a mage and the brother of a mage. His family spent their lives running from the damn Templars, living in fear of the Chantry. They were so focused on surviving they had no energy to fight back. And Anders fought, he fought tooth and nail for rights that should have been his from birth.
Hawke admired that about Anders, it left him in awe. He wasn’t content to merely survive, he wanted mages to have a life worth living.
And none of it for himself, Hawke thought bleakly. Anders ran himself ragged, worked himself to the bone. All that time healing the sick, no time to heal himself. Even if Hawke didn’t have feelings for him Anders would have awakened that protective instinct in Hawke.
“You should come by the estate for dinner,” Hawke said quietly. “It’s been a while you know.”
Hawke’s mother always gave him a knowing look whenever Anders came over. She was well acquainted with the look of someone head over heels for an apostate.
“You’re too kind,” Anders replied. “I wouldn’t want to eat any more of your food.”
“We have more than enough,” Hawke argued. “You could even stay the night in the guest room. How long has it been since you slept on a proper bed?”
Anders didn’t reply for a moment, just enough time for Hawke to regret being so forward.
“I have to be ready in case anybody needs me,” Anders replied. He didn’t sound uncomfortable, though.
“Don’t you ever take time for yourself?”
“I can’t,” Anders said.
Hawke shook his head sadly. “Everyone needs a break, even Grey Wardens.”
“Abominations don’t,” Anders argued.
“Good thing you’re not one, then.”
Anders didn’t reply, and soon Hawke’s watch ended.
“Sorry to intrude,” Isabela told them both. “I know three’s a crowd. Unless, well..” she smirked.
“You’re impossible,” Hawke said with a smile.
As Hawke drifted off, he heard Isabela speaking with Anders quietly.
“You ought to sleep, darling. It’s not even your watch.”
“Can’t seem to in a place like this,” Anders said. Again, there was that hint of poorly concealed deception. Anders knew why he wasn’t sleeping, and he wasn’t telling them.
__________________
Hawke woke up feeling rested, but his heart dropped when he saw that Anders looked anything but. He looked like he hadn’t slept at all, not during any of their watches.
“Hey,” Hawke said, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Just fine,” Anders replied with an attempt at easeiness. “I won’t be a liability in battle.”
“That’s not what I was asking,” Hawke told him sternly. He didn’t like to be stern with friends, but right now he felt it was important to impress upon Anders just how serious he was.
Anders just shook his head with a nervous laugh.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a mother hen? Or I suppose a mother hawk?”
“That comment has been made, yes,” Hawke admitted. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you look like a stiff breeze could knock you over.”
“I’m a Warden and an abomination, I’ll be fine.”
“Not an abomination,” Hawke replied, but otherwise dropped the subject. He tried to ignore the feeling in his gut, and distracted himself by talking with Varric.
According to Hawke’s maps, they were close to the Carta hideout when Anders suddenly stopped walking.
“Darkspawn,” he said with wide eyes.
“What?” Isabela asked. “I thought we weren’t far enough in!”
“We’re not supposed to be,” Anders replied, “but they’re coming here fast. Everyone, prepare for-“
The roar of an ogre sounded in the distance, and Hawke didn’t need any more prompting to pull out his daggers.
“We retreat,” he said. He wasn’t risking the lives of his friends right now.
“They’re surrounding us,” Anders said as he shook his head. “They’re in some of the tunnels behind us too.”
Fuck, Hawke thought.
“Okay, then we prepare to fight.”
——————
The Darkspawn caught up to them quickly, and Hawke wasted no time in his attack. Luckily there were no emissaries in sight, but there were two ogres. This party wasn’t assembled for brute force… it was three rogues and a mage.
Hawke was cut over and over again by the Darkspawn swords, and he knew he would be unconscious if not for Anders’ healing.
Varric was trying to find a vantage point away from the fray, but with them on all sides that was impossible. Isabela wasn’t used to fighting something with brute force and without anywhere to hide in the shadows.
Hawke stabbed a genlock in the neck and turned to quickly swipe at a hurlock. Another rushed him, and he kicked it in the midsection to send it back before stabbing.
Hawke always made sure to be aware of his companions while fighting, and he could tell everyone was in poor shape. He was almost too distracted to see the ogre’s punch coming, but he jumped out of the way just in time.
A moment later, Hawke realized it would be better if he had taken the damn punch. What the ogre hit instead was the pillar behind him, and it crumbled while the ceiling made a horrible scraping noise.
Rocks began to fall, and Hawke looked desperately for a way out. The Darkspawn, possessing some amount of intelligence, scattered away. A whole section of the ceiling was coming down, and Hawke only just caught sight of Isabela’s horrified expression before her and Varric were separated from Hawke by the falling stone.
Hawke leapt back in panic, then dodged another piece of stone. Light spilled in from one small point above him, and he almost laughed as he kept dodging small bits of ceiling. Light so close to the deep roads was somewhat funny, and it was a blessing this far in. It wasn’t much light at all, only enough to dimly illuminate the area.
The rumbling stopped, it seemed that the stones had all fallen in place. Hawke was breathing heavily, almost in disbelief he was unharmed.
Hawke turned to look for a way out and back to his companions, and what he saw made his blood turn to ice.
Anders wasn’t with Varric and Isabela on the other side of the wall, he was lying on the ground with blood pooling under his head.
Hawke moved before he could think, falling to his knees and feeling for a pulse. It was there, thank the Maker. Now that Hawke was close enough to Anders, he could see a darkspawn dagger protruding from his abdomen, along with multiple slashes in his clothing. So not only was Anders injured in the cave-in, he hadn’t had time to heal wounds from the battle.
“Anders?” Hawke asked, almost begged. Anders opened his eyes just a bit, but it was enough for Hawke to let out a long breath.
“Okay, Anders, you need to heal yourself,” Hawke said, speaking quietly but with authority. Anders might be really out of it right now, so Hawke wanted to be clear with his instructions. Indeed, Anders answered sluggishly. And not only that, he just shook his head. As Hawke tried to figure out what that meant, he gently lifted Anders’ head enough to place a wadded up piece of cloth under the bleeding. Hawke knew head wounds bled a lot, so this could be surface level… But Hawke was still terrified.
“Anders, you need to answer me. Please, heal yourself. You’re injured.”
Anders shook his head again. “Can’t,” he whispered.
“Can’t? What do you mean?” Hawke’s heart rate picked up even more. Hawke was used to a kind of calm coming over him during dangerous situations, but he wasn’t used to Anders saying he couldn’t heal something.
“Too much mana,” Anders muttered, still looking at Hawke with half-lidded eyes. “Used it to…stop the debris from k-killing us.”
So Anders had at one point had the mana to heal the battle wounds, and he didn’t. His first instinct was to protect the others. Hawke wanted to yell, but Anders didn’t need that. This idiot was so… Hawke couldn’t even think about this anymore. Right now it didn’t matter how Anders got so injured, it mattered that he needed to be healed.
Hawke rummaged around in his pack, and found two health potions. Only two. Hawke knew enough about wounds to know that two wouldn’t be enough.
“Anders, how do I help you?” Hawke asked, trying not to think of how fragile Anders looked. He was merely a man after all, not a monster like he believed. Hawke wished he were a monster right now, then he would be okay.
“S-stop the…. The bleeding… take the knife out… if you’re going to use the potion.”
Hawke reached for the protruding knife, but hesitated. He remembered Anders saying once not to remove a blade unless you were prepared to stop the bleeding immediately.
“Do you have a bandage?” Anders asked. Hawke rummaged in his pack and found some.
“Okay, okay,” Hawke muttered to himself as his hand hovered over the blade. He pulled it out quickly, but Anders still grunted in pain. Hawke immediately pressed the wadded bandages to the wound and kept pressure, feeling like he must be doing something wrong.
Anders was very, very still.
“Anders!” No answer. Hawke looked over in panic, then saw his eyes were open but unfocused. He was breathing, barely.
“Anders!” Again, no answer.
Still putting pressure on the wound, Hawke scooted closer to Anders’ face. A thin sheen of sweat was on his brow, and Hawke realized this was more than just the physical wounds. Anders was deathly pale, pale in a way Hawke had seen before when Anders had exhausted his mana and kept pushing anyway. Hawke was no mage, but he knew this look.
“Anders,” Hawke said again, daring to pat at his cheek lightly.
Anders looked at him then, finally. He almost looked… confused.
“It’s so dark… Hawke, why- why are you here?”
His words were slurred and unsteady, and Hawke realized he was completely out of it.
“We’re in a tunnel,” Hawke told him gently, brushing hair back from his face. “It’s going to be okay. You need to hold your hand here-“
Hawke took Anders’ hand and placed it above his own on the wound.
“You need to apply pressure while I tend to your other wounds. Please, Anders.”
Anders just furrowed his brow. “What’re you d-doing here? You’re not supposed to be here- no one’s here… I’m alone. Oh Maker, I’m going crazy….”
Anders winced, then took a shuddering breath.
“I don’t want to die in the dark…” he whimpered, nearly breaking Hawke’s heart in two.
“No, Anders, I’m here. I’m here, I swear it. You’re not alone.”
Hawke leaned closer, determined to make it so Anders couldn’t deny the reality of his presence.
“I’m always alone,” Anders whispered to himself.
“No you’re not!” Hawke said forcefully, placing a hand on Anders’ cold cheek firmly this time.
“Feel me, Anders. I’m here.”
Anders only trembled beneath him, his breath shaking.
“Look at me, love, I’ve got you,” Hawke murmured, his mind not registering what he said until a moment later.
Anders focused on him for a moment, then his body was wracked by a wave of pain and he cried out.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Hawke assured him even as he himself was panicking. “Just hold your hand over the wound.”
Anders still looked confused, but he pressed against Hawke’s hand. Hawke gently slid his hand away and let Anders apply pressure.
“You’re…” he said, squinting his eyes for a second. “You’re here… Hawke…”
“Yes, yes, Anders, I’m here. It’s going to be okay, I swear to you you’re not alone. I’d never leave you alone like this.”
“Is this the Fade?”
“No, it’s not the Fade, lo-“
He almost said it again. That word which didn’t belong to him, even though he wanted it. Anders wasn’t his in that way.
Hawke tore away the parts of Anders’ clothing that were stabbed through and tried to be as gentle as possible as he removed the fabric from the sticky blood. Anders trembled all over, but he held the pressure firm.
“Not alone…” he muttered, “I’m not alone… I’m not dying alone…”
“Yes, yes love, perfect,” Hawke assured him. Damn it, he said “love” again. Hawke knew he was one to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, but this was beyond inappropriate.
Hawke poured a light trickle of water over the shallow wounds, soothing a hand over Anders’ hair when it clearly stung.
“Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay… this part sucks, yeah, but it’ll be over soon.”
Hawke barely had any idea what he was saying at this point, all he could think of was making sure Anders knew he was here and that he was going to live.
Hawke bandaged the lighter wounds, then propped Anders’ head up on his knee along with the cloth so he could get a better look at the back of his head.
The bleeding had stopped, and Hawke let out a long shaking sigh. Hawke nudged the hand covering the worst stab wound, and Anders moved it away. Hawke gingerly removed the bandage and poured water, causing Anders to seize in pain. He clutched at Hakwe’s shirt desperately, and Hawke found himself clutching back with his free arm. Hawke quickly wiped debris away from the wound as Anders shook and whimpered, ignoring how each sound made him want to cry himself.
Anders’ head was now pressed against Hawke’s chest, his eyes shut tight against the pain. Hawke applied the bandage again, keeping pressure. One hand was on the bandage, one was cradling the back of Anders’ head.
Hawke took a moment to breath, then quickly moved the hand holding the bandage to grab the first healing potion. Now that there was less risk of infection, the wounds could start to heal over.
“You’ve gotta drink this,” Hawke said gently. He held the potion to Anders’ lips and he drank slowly, Hawke supporting his back as he did. The second one followed quickly, and Anders grimaced at the taste.
“Bet you’re not used to how that is,” Hawke said with a tense smile. “You’ve usually got your magic to heal you…”
Anders almost laughed, but it came out more like a cry of pain.
Hawke held the bandage again, and held Anders tightly against his chest. Anders was still pale, he still shook, but most of the bleeding was stemmed by the potions. The wounds wouldn’t hold closed without bandages, but Anders wasn’t going to bleed out in this damn tunnel.
“You-“ Anders whispered after a few very long minutes. “You don’t have to keep holding on… I can hold it myself… I think I’m- I’m more lucid than I was a minute ago-“
“Good,” said Hawke. “But I’m not letting go, not a chance. You’re still weak from the mana overuse. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”
Anders tucked his head back into Hawke’s chest, and mumbled something Hawke couldn’t hear.
“Seriously, Anders,” Hawke said after more silence, “you’ve gotta… look after yourself, okay? You used too much mana saving all of us and you still let yourself bleed.”
“I’m a healer,” Anders argued weakly.
“And now you’re a patient,” Hawke reminded him. “Funny how that can switch. Even the healer needs healed, Anders.”
“I can usually handle it on my own,” Anders said softly.
“That was before,” Hawke insisted. “You have people now, people who care for you. You can’t treat yourself like you don’t matter, that’s no way to live.”
Anders didn’t reply, and Hawke let the silence sit.
_______
Eventually they were going to have to find a way out of this tunnel, but Hawke was content to just sit with Anders. He hadn’t let go of him, almost afraid Anders would drift away again if he did.
“The others will find us,” Hawke whispered to the room.
“You have a lot of faith in them,” Anders told him quietly. As time passed and night fell, Anders began to shake. It must be the pain.
“Of course I do,” Hawke replied. “They’re my people. We have each others backs, we don’t abandon each other.”
“Must be nice,” Anders mused. A flash of anger went through Hawke, though not truly anger at Anders.
“What’s this then?” Hawke asked, softly but serious. “Me, holding you and patching you up? You forgoing healing yourself to save everyone from the cave-in?”
Anders let go of Hawke’s shirt, and Hawke realized he must have made a terrible mistake.
Anders didn’t get far in his attempt to leave Hawke’s arms, only scooting away a short distance before grunting in pain and slumping to the ground.
Hawke was there again, steadying his back and helping him find a wall to lean on.
Hawke couldn’t feel him shaking anymore for lack of touch, but he could hear the waver in his voice.
“That’s my j-job as a healer.”
“No it’s not,” Hawke chided. He couldn’t really look Anders in the eye right now due to the dimming light, but he tried.
“It’s not your job to sacrifice yourself for us. Especially if you believe we’re not here for you.”
Anders sighed and ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Hawke could only just make out in the darkness.
“Hawke, I don’t- I don’t think that. I just… I can’t afford to act like people care. Too risky.”
“It’s not a risk if you know we’re here.”
“I c-can’t know that,” Anders said.
“Then you sacrifice for us and you don’t even know if we care?” Hawke asked incredulously. The stress of the situation and his rapidly fading energy were getting to him. He didn’t want to yell at Anders, so he held in some of his frustration.
Anders turned away, and didn’t answer.
“...We’re here for you,” Hawke ended up saying. “At least I am. You can be sure of that.”
Anders took in an audible breath.
“I want to believe that, Hawke, and I know you want that to be true. But that’s just not meant for mages, it’s just not.”
“When do you give a damn what mages are supposed to have?” Hawke asked, reaching out a hand on instinct. He stopped before it fell on Anders’ shoulder, but let it hang in the air for a moment too long. Anders turned, and saw he had been reaching out.
“Anders…We’ve got to stop playing this game,” Hawke said, pulling back his arm. “I clearly haven’t gotten across how I feel if you think you’re alone.”
“Hawke,” Anders said, sounding pained. “I…I want what you’re offering. I…did you call me “love” before?” He sounded hesitant as he spoke, like he was embarrassed to show desire. Was he?
Of course he is! Hawke thought to himself. It was fucking obvious, now that Hawke and his dumb brain did some work. Anders grew up in the Circle, was punished for loving Karl. Mages were told they were nothing and had nothing, so why wouldn’t he believe that on some level?
Hawke had been an idiot, thinking his stupid flirting and friendly invitations would get through to Anders that he cared for him.
“Yes, Anders,” Hawke said. “I did say love. I…I feel a lot of things about you.”
Anders let out a small laugh, then winced in pain and curled in on himself.
“I’ve lied awake at light, aching for you,” Anders almost whispered. “But…you really want me? All that I am?”
“All that you are,” Hawke confirmed with a smile. “I love all of you, even the parts you don’t like.”
Hawke moved closer to Anders, and placed a questioning hand on his cheek. They stayed like that for an agonizingly long moment…
Anders leaned into the touch, and Hawke kissed him softly. The kiss lasted just a moment, but Hawke’s heart beat fast anyway.
“This has to be a dream,” Anders said. “First I almost die because of my own poor use of mana, now…now Garrett Hawke is kissing me.”
“Well,” Hawke replied, unhappy with the self-deprecation but trying to keep the mood light, “I let my friend use his mana on me in battle, almost died in a cave-in, and now I’m kissing Anders. It’s pretty nice.”
Anders smiled at him, again with that undercurrent of nervousness. Hawke wanted to kiss away that crease in his brow, he wanted to kiss and hold and touch Anders until he could feel nothing but love.
“When we get out of this cave,” Hawke said. “You’re coming back to the mansion with me for a proper meal and a bath.”
“You seem quite sure we’re making it out of this,” Anders said, dodging the request expertly.
“Our friends will find us,” Hawke assured him. “Try to get some sleep in the meantime.”
Anders stiffened, then looked away. Clearly Hawke had said the wrong thing.
“Since we’re all diverging deep secrets now,” Anders said very, very quietly, “I have one of my own. I, um…I can’t sleep in complete darkness if it’s in a cramped space.”
“Oh,” Hawke said. Maker, why had Anders agreed to come here then? Why had he agreed to come on the original Deep Roads expedition?
“Anders…” Hawke continued. “You…I’m sorry. If I had known, I never would have asked you to help with this.”
Anders shook his head, then leaned back against the stone while holding a hand protectively over his stomach wound.
“I can get by. I just don’t sleep.”
Darkness clouded over Hawke’s mind. No, that wouldn’t do. If Hawke was going to be Anders’ lover, or even his friend, he could make sure Anders took care of himself.
“When we get back, please stay the night at the estate. You can light a candle, and the rooms are huge. I don’t like the idea of you not sleeping.”
“You’re not even going to ask me why I have this problem?” Anders asked, clearly nervous.
“Not my business.”
“We kissed. It might be your business.”
Now Hawke shook his head. “No, it’s still your privacy. I know you didn’t have privacy in the Circle, but you do now.”
Anders looked away from Hawke, perhaps by the intensity of Hawke’s words. Hawke knew that when he got serious, he didn’t hide it. He needed Anders to understand him in this, that Anders’ privacy was valuable. That…Anders was valuable.
“Did I tell you about solitary confinement?” Anders asked softly.
“Yes. You said they sometimes threw you in there. They never should have done that to you.”
“I…I was there for a year, Hawke.”
Hawke could barely comprehend what Anders just said. A year. A fucking year?
“Please say something,” Anders whispered. Hawke realized his silence had been drawn out as he tried to keep the anger off of his face. He felt…rage. Utter rage, that the Templars could do that to anyone, but especially Anders.
“Sorry,” Hawke breathed out. “Maker…No wonder you don’t like dark cramped spaces. I’m…I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do it,” Anders shrugged.
“But I wish I could have stopped it. Even if that doesn’t make sense, I wish I could prevent everything that’s happened to you. It makes me furious, what happened to you.”
Honesty was another quality of Hawke’s, often honesty to an inappropriate degree.
“Hawke? Could you…come closer?”
Hawke complied immediately, scooting right next to Anders. Anders reached out a shaking hand, and Hawke grasped it firmly.
“This helps,” Anders said. “Since I was alone in the cell…I like to feel someone else with me. Don’t usually get that opportunity.”
“Of course, anything you need.”
Taking a small risk, Hawke scooted even closer, and leaned against Anders. Anders leaned back, resting his head on Hawke’s shoulder. His body still shook, he must be in a lot of pain.
“We’re getting out of here soon,” Hawke told him. He stroked the palm of Anders’ hand with his thumb, and Anders sighed.
“I don’t feel alone right now,” Anders admitted. “Thank you, Hawke.”
“That’s because you’re not alone. You’ll never be alone again.”
Anders laughed softly, then winced in pain. Hawke placed his arm around Anders, and guided him practically into his lap. Anders went easily, curling up like a cat.
Ironically, it was Hawke who didn’t sleep that night. Anders crashed almost immediately, likely because he’s been up for two days straight. If Hawke could provide Anders the security he needed to get some damn sleep, he would do it every night for the rest of his life.
_______________________________
Hawke was actually about to drift off himself when he heard a rumbling. He stiffened, and Anders woke quickly. Hawke instinctively held on tighter, like he could protect Anders from falling rubble somehow.
But it didn’t fall. Vines grew in between the rocks and began to move them, and a voice called out.
“Hawke! Anders!” It was Merrill.
“We’re here!” Hawke called back, feeling a rush of giddy joy flow through him. He didn’t think his friends would leave them, but actually seeing the rescue was something else.
The rocks took a moment to move because Merrill was being very careful, but finally Hawke and Anders were free. Anders was standing, unsteady but upright.
“We’ll get you more health potions when we get back,” Hawke assured him.
“My mana should be back tonight.”
“We don’t have to wait that long. Actually…”
Hawke asked the group. “Do any of you have any health potions? Anders is hurt.”
Varric tossed one over, and Hawke handed it to Anders.
“See?” Hawke asked quietly, “not alone.”
Anders let out a breath, holding the potion in his hand for a moment. He drank it quickly, and Hawke could see his shoulders relax.
“I suppose I’m not.”