Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: In which Bethany Hawke is taken from Vault 113

One of the worst feelings in the world is sweaty moist hair slicked against a sweaty moist forehead. If you try to wipe it away it just moves the sweat along with it. It’s disgusting.

It’s not usually this steamy down in Vault 113 but an overheated reactor core has changed our little ecosystem into satan's rectum. No one is happy down in the rectum especially Carver, the poor guy's entire suit is tinted a darker shade of blue from sweat.

I hold up a wrench to him as we begin to work on fixing a burst pipe in one of the hallways. I watch as the wrench slowly slides out of my hand from the moisture. He notices and makes a disgusted face.

I mock his expression and shoot, “Oh like you’re any less sweaty.”

Carver grunts taking the wrench and begins working away at the pipe. I lean against the wall opposing him and slowly slide down leaving a moisture trail along the wall.

“Why don’t we have a backup cooling system or something?”, I say as I hit the floor and unfurl my legs.

Carver takes the wrench and begins to bang it against the broken pipe causing an eruption of steel ringing to echo through the hall.

“Because whoever designed this place probably wasn’t thinking about that when they were rushing to finish it.”, he shouts above the ringing.

He stops and steps back to admire his banging.

I sigh, “Ah yes, had to rush to beat the great and inevitable nuclear war. Well I think the best solution should be to just prop the door open, air this place out a bit.”

Carver turns and scowls, he mumbles something that I could barely understand.

“What’s that sweet brother? You wouldn’t mind opening the door too? And what?! Also Leave? Oh don’t let the Overseer catch you talking like that. You’ll have janitorial duties for months!”

Carver makes a motion as if to pretend to throw the wrench at me but as he flicks it in my direction it slips from his clammy hand, nailing the wall to the right of my head. We both stare at each other in shock as the wrench clatters to the floor.  

“Carver!” Bethany’s voice cuts through our silent stare. “What did I tell you about putting ‘Red Menace’ back in it’s case before-”

Carver and I simultaneously turn to her as she rounds the corner, the shock still bright on our faces.

“Oh no, did one of you almost die again?” she groans and crosses her arms against her chest.

I feel Carver look back at me and I shrug, I look to my right and see the dent the wrench left from the impact. I whip back to look at Carver and point to the dent with my thumb.

“That could’ve been my face you asshole.”, I spit without any real venom in my voice.

Carver shrugs and smugly states, “Would’ve been an improvement.”

I hear Bethany snort. I crouch up from my sitting position and lean into standing, taking a step closer to my dear brother. So close I can smell how disgustingly damp his suit is. Before he can react I wrap an arm around his neck and pull him into a choke hold.

“Maker, you smell like the sanitarium.” I cough for emphasis.

He struggles to spit out a reply, “Of course you would know what that’s like.”  

I hear Bethany makes a ‘woo’ sound. I ruffle up Carvers sweaty hair, and toss him aside.       

Bethany walks over to us and reaches down to pick up the wrench.

“You guys are really working hard down here.”

I take the wrench from her and weigh it in my hand before returning it to the tool box on the floor.

“Anything for the good of the vault.”

Carver makes a mock gagging noise before standing next to me and then proceeds to punch my arm. The blow knocks me back a step because that boy can punch. I cradle my arm lovingly turning to Carver and give him a pout. Before he can respond Bethany steps forward and pushes our shoulders away from each other as if to part waves.

“Alright enough, Carver please put this back where it belongs,” she says with a frighteningly good imitation of moms command voice and hands him a tape. “And you, mom needs help moving food out of the freezer. Which is more of an oven now. Thank you vault tech for your reliable appliances.”

She groans looking back and forth at the two of us, a stress wrinkle beginning to form between her brows. She gives us both a final push before we all part ways, leaving the broken pipe and tools unmonitored. We’re good, productive vault dwellers I swear. I look back at the two of them and see Carver look over his shoulder making eye contact with me. I turn all the way around, continuing to walk backwards and gesture that ‘I’m keeping my eye on him’. He gives me a priceless ‘who the fuck do you think you are’ look and continues after Bethany.

I smirk and turn around right before I run into someone who throws up the papers they were obliviously reading before crashing into my chest.

“Oh pardon me- Seb! Oh geez, I’m so sorry.”

Sebastian crouches on the floor trying to rapidly collect all the papers on the floor. I join him gathering and "accidentally" crumple a large wad together before handing it to him. He glares at me with those piercing blues through his glasses and snatches the paper wad away from me.

“Hawke, you really need to look where you’re going.” He breathes out before leaning close and almost whispering, scolds, “And you know it’s Overseer out here.”

I grin widely slipping my hands over his crossed arms.

“I apologize, oh great Overseer.”

I lean in for a peck but he steps back leaving my hands empty, as well as my heart. I frown and retract my arms into my stiff vault suit pockets. Sebastian's eyes dart back and forth across my face and his posture softens with a sigh.

“I’m sorry, this whole reactor ordeal is a real bog-trotter. The last thing I need is-”

I shift my weight to my right and huff, “A controversy? Oh how dare the young Overseer have feelings for a lowly maintenance worker! How many times to we have to rehash this? Why does it even matter?”

Sebastian's face contorts into disbelief and then down into hurt.

“That’s not- You being a maintenance worker has nothing to do with me wanting to keep this quiet.”

He ducks his head down, cutting our eye contact. He looks around nervously for a real answer, as if searching the hallway for it.

“It’s just your family-”

“Aren’t from the vault, yeah whatever. Can’t trust outsiders I guess, even if we practically grew up together. Yeah, definitely wont look good for your reputation.”

I scoff before waving my hand dismissively.

“Marian, I just-”

A booming crackle of electricity rings through the halls followed by a quake that causes the iridescents to flicker. I push Sebastian against the wall shielding him which causes him to once again drop his papers. Sebastian brings his Pipboy to his face and rapidly ticks through it. Shouting begins to bounce through the halls coming from the direction where I last left Bethany and Carver. I release Sebastian and begin heading that way.

“Wait, we have a breach we need to get to the-”

A shriek interrupts him and my stomach drops.

“Bethany!”, I scream and race down the hall.

It’s a rare horror to hear her scream in terror and hearing it again for the first time in years causes a surge of something primal through my body. She shrieks again and this time I hear Carver yell as well.

“Get your fucking hands off of her!”, he’s practically screaming. I hear him begin to yell again but is cut off by an echoing blow.

I slide around the corner and see him land hard against the wall knocked out.

“Carver!”

I look to see who dealt the blow and lock up. A staggeringly tall man with long ashy grey hair and the physique of a boulder is practically dangling Bethany with his thick arm around her neck. In his free hand he’s holding up what looks like an enormous sledge hammer. Bethany’s eyes dart to me, wide with fear and before she can even open her mouth a flash of brilliant white electricity surges down from the ceiling causing me to cover my eyes. Another quake rumbles through the floor and they’re gone.

 _____

“We can’t just sit around and do nothing! Someone has to go out and find her!”

Carver is yelling and pacing around the infirmary, he waves his arms in anger the best he can with his left one in a sling. Mom glides up beside him and straightens his arms down, holding his hands in an attempt to calm him down. She hesitantly reaches up to his face, her fingers gently hover over the black eye he also was awarded with.

“Carver we all understand this situation and it’s hard for even me to not want to go after her but we don’t know who took her or where. Racing out there unprepared wouldn’t do Bethany any good.” ,she sniffs the last word and both Carver and I are hit with a pang of guilt.

Sebastian and one of the doctors stride in arguing about something. I push myself off one of the hospital bed I’d perched on. We all turn to look at the two, Sebastian is rubbing his temples in frustration as the doctor tries to explain that all system functions have gone back to normal.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”, Sebastian groans and takes the hand rubbing his head and slicks his hair back with it. His mouth falls slack in exasperation and I feel my eye twitch as I watch him nervously bite at the inside of his lip. Watching him conjures up a certain aggression and frustration of how meek he can be under stress, I step forward so I’m at an arms length from him.

“What the fuck happened out there?”, I spit out at him causing him to snap to attention at my tone.

He quickly looks away and sputters, “We don’t- No one knows for sure. Everyone's looking for answers and it’s being taken as a top priority right now. Mrs. Hawke…”

Turning to her, he approaches and takes her hands in his.

“We’re doing everything we can to find out what happened to Bethany. No one will rest until she is found.”

Carver scoffs, “You’re damn right no one will.”

Apparently during the allotted time that Sebastian walked in until now, Carver had raided the infirmary and now held most of it’s contents in a pack. He slung it over his good arm and scowled at us.

“What do you think you’re doing Carver?”, Mom says hesitantly.

“I’m going to find out who took her and I’m going to make them pay.”

He straightened his back and began to walk out before I stepped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“No, you’re not. You’re in no condition to be out there, you’ll be dead in less than a minute. And don’t you dare think that I’m not going out there because I am. But I need to make provisions and play it smart unlike what you think you’re doing right now.”

He smacked my hand away and leaned in closer to my face so I could see inside his flared nostrils.

He hissed, “I’m not going to sit around and do nothing. If you won't let me help you than you need to step down, Marian.”

Of course this isn’t the first time my baby brother has talked down to me but in this moment something snapped. And it wasn’t just Carvers arm again, which I  had grabbed and twisted causing him to let out a yelp and crumple down onto his knees. He glared up at me with tears in the corners of his eyes.

I heard our mom yell both our names and begin to split us up. But before she could Carver jabbed his free elbow into the side of my knee.

My leg caved in and I felt Carver stand up, take my head between his hands and run it into his oncoming knee. I felt my nose crack and a rush of pain and blood flooded my head.

“Carver! Stop it!” Mom yelled at us again.

Holding my nose shut, the blood seeping down my hand, I get up and clock Carver on the side of the head with a clubbed fist. His head is knocked to the side and he stays there, the anger spreading across his features.

“Enough! Both of you!”

Mom steps in between both of us holding up her arms up as if to stop an avalanche from falling down on her.

“Just stop fighting for once! Your sister is kidnapped and this is how you two decide to react?”, she sniffs. “We need- You two need to stop.”

She turns to Carver and begins to help him with his sling.

“Carver I know it’s hard but you’re injured and I don’t want to risk losing you too. Please, please, Carver promise me you won't do anything rash?”

He’s turned away from her, his face contorted in anguish. He breathes out a fine and takes a seat on one of the beds.

Mom turns to me and reaches out for my hand, I grab it, the other bloodied one still holding my nose somewhat closed.

“You too, can you promise that?”

“I have to go after her, mom. I can’t promise you that I’ll stay.”

She sighs, “I know dear, but that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking you not to do anything reckless.”

I shake my head in agreement, even though it’s a plain lie.

On of the other side of the infirmary Sebastian cuts through, his voice bordering on shrill.

“Wait no one is going outside. Hawke, I can’t let you just leave.”

“Why not? It’d be beneficial for all of us. How else did you plan on finding her? By just replaying the security footage over and over?”

Sebastian's expression drops and it’s so satisfying to see the defeat and realization in his eyes of how easily he could be rid of me.

“I suppose so… But I need to review it with the counsel.”

“No, I leave by 6 a.m. tomorrow no matter what.”

 ______

As a child arriving at the vault was one of my most terrifying memories, the grinding of the motor and the screech of steel against steel haunted me for a while. Not only that but my child imagination came up with all these possibilities of what was inside, monsters, mad scientists, or even the idea that I would be separated from my family.  Of course once we were inside we were given a warm welcome from the current dwellers. Or at least that’s the way I remembered it.

Now looking at the gigantic gear embedded in the wall all I can think of was what could be waiting for me outside. And once again I was faced with the idea of monsters, evil scientists, and abandonment.

 Sebastian tried to keep me leaving a small ordeal but walking through the halls before the elevator up, it was apparent that everyone knew. I received so many good lucks, goodbyes, and a lot of cigarettes.

Mom stood next to me staring at the vault’s main safeguard. I hear her let out a shaky breath as she turns to me with a hand on my shoulder. I pull her into a hug and hold her for as long as I can.

“Before you go, there is one last thing. A lead perhaps, you have an uncle in Quincy, his name is Gamlen Amell and he may be able to help. I haven’t contacted him in years so I don’t know if he’s even still there but it’s something.”

I retract from her and furrow my brow.

“Why didn’t you mention before that we still have family out there?”

“Because there’s a good reason why he’s out there.”

She waves her hand dismissively.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, just don’t get too involved with him. He’s…. Trouble.”

The elevator doors slide open and Carver, Sebastian and a couple of security guards walk out. I frown at Carver and look to Sebastian.

“He insisted on saying good bye.”

I mouth an “oh” and watch as Carver walks towards us, his head dipped down slightly. He approaches like a sad wounded puppy.

I open my arms to him and give him a smirk. He rolls his eyes and clasps on with his good arm. We pat each other heartily and release. He locks my gaze and points at my chest accusingly.

“You get her back, ok?”

“You know I will.”

Mom arrives at his side and wraps her arm around his waist holding him tight. I walk away from them and walk up onto the retracted bridge in front of the door. A security guard approaches and hands me a 10 mm pistol and 50 rounds. I frown at the amount of ammo, I look over to Sebastian and frown harder. He looks up at me and mouths a “what?”. I hold up the box of ammunition and frown even harder at him.

“It’s regulation.”

“Uh huh, thanks doll.”

He stiffens at the pet name and glares down at the control center.

“Hey Seb…”, I soften my voice granting me his attention.

“If for some reason I don’t make it… And this only counts if I don’t...”

The room goes quiet for a bit with only the groans of the pipes echoing throughout the chamber.

“I forgive you.”

I smile at him and look back to my family. I turn back to him, my smile gone, and nod. With that he plugs his Pipboy into the control panel and activates the motor. We make eye contact one last time, the loss in his eyes is an expression that I’ll relish every time I think about his resentment towards our affair.

Natural light pierces through the edges of the giant gear and floods the chamber with a wave of fresh radiated air. I blink letting my eyes adjust to the strange yellow tint of natural light and take my first step towards rescuing my sister.

I walk into a tunnel, the ground littered with open suitcases and miscellaneous items that had been abandoned in the rush for safety. Once I step down the stairs and onto the dirt floor, the motor starts again and the vault door screeches back to a close.

I scoff finding it funny how quickly Sebastian had closed his precious vault back up.  

Disregarding that train of thought, I make my way towards the main source of natural light, attempting to avoid the various skeletons of animals, mostly human. The end of the tunnel is overlaid with seemingly dead vines that I brush aside before taking in the full onslaught of the wasteland.

It’s hot and stinks like Carver but I wouldn’t expect any less.

I blink and take my surroundings in, the tunnels entrance was in the middle of a large hill. The hill curved round in almost like a creator and down below was a small body of water filled with tires, steel barrels, and a toilet. The loud crash of water interrupts my observations and I turn to race up the hill. At the top at least a couple hundred feet away was the ocean. It was as vast and beautiful as I’d imagined and read about it, excluding the countless number of shored boats and debris.

I take a deep breath expecting clean ocean air and immediately regret it. The stench of rot causes me to actually start gagging and coughing. I raise my arm to my still sore and taped up nose in an attempt to breathe through my clothing.

I take a moment to look at my map on the Pipboy and see that Quincy is at least three days away from the vault. I let out a groan and jump when it’s echoed by something louder that comes from behind me. Slowly turning around, I slide my gun out and look to see where the noise came from.

Now, I take back what I’ve said before about sweaty sticky hair being one of the worst feelings in the world. Because it is nothing in comparison to turning around to see an enormous scaly horned lizard emerge from it's nest behind the hill.

“Oh shit.”

I start to back away slowly in hopes it hasn’t seen me yet but it’s just my luck to step onto some suspiciously loud broken glass and peak the interest of the beast.

“Fuck….”, I hiss out. The Deathclaw lets out a rumbling bellow and begins to stampede down the hill. I scream a little too high pitch for my dignity and run the fuck out of there.

I run and run until I reach the beach and turn around for a second as I watch the big lizard crash out of the trees and smash onto the beach. Damn that thing is fast, I hop over several barrels and pieces of driftwood before my foot gets caught under a rock and I land flat onto the sand. I feel my nose start to bleed again and quickly roll over and spot an overturned rowboat. I scramble to get under it, my heart racing as I pull it all the way down. The boat is shoved and smacked down onto the sand as the death lizard begins to claw and pound it’s way into the boat. I start screaming again and remember I have a gun and begin to fire it through the boat in hopes that I’ll manage to hit it. After several rounds the shaking and growling stop.

I unfurl myself from the fetus position I curled into and listen.

Nothing.

Just the crash of the waves and my panting.

The panting grows loud until I realize that’s not just me and I brace for impact as the Deathclaw rams the boat knocking it to splinters. The impact shoves me across the sand and I’m greeted with another bellow before a hug of claws. I scream as the claws catch my arm ripping my suit and almost peeling my skin. I swing around, gun in both hands and fire. Another claw comes down knocking it out my hands and hits across the bridge of my nose leaving a deep gash.

I’m helpless as the mutant lizard lifts me up with the other hand, holding me for a second until an arrow hits it in the side of the head.

The arrow is beeping and a red light is flashing rapidly until it stops and explodes the Deathclaws head, the explosion throwing me far back into the sand.

My vision fades in and out as I begin to lose consciousness. My head falls to the side where the arrow came from and I see two figures coming my way.

They high five and before I finally blackout I hear a low gruff voice speak,

“Nice one Varric.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: In which Varric Tethras eats an entire Mirelurk.

A steel wall stands before me. I’m back in the safety of the vault but it feels wrong. The lights are a different tinge, it’s too yellow to be home. Something sloshes against my feet, I look down to see dark waters slip through them. Footsteps splash down through the water and I feel someone rush past me. I whip around to watch as Bethany sprints down the hall.

I try to call her name but gag on a mouthful of blood. I smack my hands against my mouth before I’m hit by a wave of icy water. The literal flood brings a wave of memories and suddenly I’m back on the beach. The bare forest elongates as a large form emerges from it. The Deathclaws glowing stare bores into me. I watch in slow motion as it’s claws begin to dig into my flesh. I feel my ribs pull apart exposing me as a wave of sorrow and pain washes over my fevered body. Through the pain I hear Bethany scream my name, echoing so far out of my reach. I feel lightheaded and my body drags itself out of the fever dream and into consciousness.

It’s warm, a fire crackles beside me. The ocean is a muffled rumble in the background. Something lands in the fire causing it to crackle loudly and sizzle. A gruff voice lets out a deep sigh. I feel their presence plop down beside my feet. I struggle to open my eyes and am greeted by a wave of pain erupting from my temples. I groan causing the person at my feet to get up and kneel beside of my head.

“Hey killer, take it slow.”, the voice says calm and soothing.

I feel a hand hover above my face before gentle fingers smooth down the bandage across my nose.

“Here drink this.”

They prop my head up at a slight angle and place the mouth of a bottle between my lips. I take a sip and immediately sit up to cough out the sour liquid. The voice chuckles behind me, I hear them take a swig and walk in front of me.

“Guess fermented mutfruit isn’t clean enough for a vault dwellers taste. Too bad, more for me.”

I cough again and wipe my mouth with my sleeve. I look up to glare at the figure. He’s a short stocky man, the light from the fire illuminating his bronze hair and the dented gold chain around his neck. Looking down at me, he taps his majestic nose and gives me a smirk.

“You’re bleeding again.”

I raise a hand to feel my swollen bandaged nose, I pull it away, the fingers tipped with blood. I grimace at the sight and turn back to him as he crouches down in front of me. He takes out a roll of duct tape and some bandages from his tattered coat pockets.

I try to speak, my voice crawls out like sandpaper. I manage a quiet thanks.

“No problem, it’s a sad sight to see something as pretty as this get mauled by an overgrown iguana.”

He finishes redressing my wound and gives my face a pat before leaning back onto the ground. I frown at him and he smiles, taking out a cigarette and lighting it with the fire.

He puts it to his mouth and takes a drag before offering a hand to introduce himself.

“Varric Tethras, at your service.”

Smoke seeps out of his mouth as he speaks. I take his hand and he gives it a hearty shake.

“Marian Hawke.”

“Hawke? That’s good strong name.”

“Where am I?”, I rasp.

He takes another drag, his eyes scan up and down.

“I suspect somewhere by the ocean at the edge of the commonwealth. More specifically an old boat house by the looks of it.”

“Oh thanks…”

“I suppose you can always take a look at your fancy Pipboy there.”  He rumbles out a laugh before taking a more serious tone,  “Say, where’d you get that anyway?”

There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he gestures to my arm. I cradle it close to my body and examine the Pipboy to see if it took any damage.

“I uh-,” I clear my throat. He seems like the man to see through a lie so I don’t.

“It was given to me.”

Before he can reply, there’s a series of pounding footsteps outside followed by the hiss of hydraulics. We both turn to watch a large suit of metal duck into the entrance of the shack. It’s glowing blue eyes illuminate a wooden crate they’re carrying. It’s filled with what appears to be some of the remains of the Deathclaw.

“Hey Broody, look our sleeping beauty finally woke up.”, Varric chuckles.

The suit puts the crate down in the corner of the shack before facing a wall. It hisses, the back spreads open revealing a lithe figure dressed in simple clothing. He peels himself from his armor, turning around he pushes his grey hair away from his face and I lock onto his luminescent green eyes. My gaze follows down the bridge of his long nose to his full lips and catch on the curl of tattoos across his chin and down his neck. The white ink stark against his dark dusty skin. Something about him makes me want to get closer in every way possible.

He grumbles, his voice low and gritty, “Good. We should get moving soon.”  

“Why? Are we in a rush?”

Varric reaches over to the fire and pulls out a pair of rusty tongs with what looks to be a giant crab claw between them. The claw slips out and almost nails him in the crotch. Varric sucks in his breath, dropping the tongs and rapidly pats the ashes off his pants.

The man from the suit snorts and strides around the fire, taking a seat on what's left of a chair across us.

“We will be soon. I spotted a brotherhood patrol settling in at the lighthouse.”

Varric looks around the shack for something, his face lighting up as he spots a hammer.

Reaching over to it he grunts, “Great, just when we rid the area of Deathclaws, in comes something worst... Though, I wouldn’t mind loosening those tight ass suits with an arrow or two.”

I speak up, “Who are they?”

The man sitting on the chair snaps his attention to my direction as if he forgot I was in the room. His eyes move across my frame, analyzing.

“You don’t know who the Brotherhood of Steel is? Only a vault rat wouldn’t-”, he stops, the corner of his mouth slightly pulls. “Varric you might actually be right this time.”

“Told you they’re fresh meat. Straight from the cellar.”

Varric looks over his shoulder to me and winks. Then he gingerly takes the giant claw and smashes it with the hammer.

“But basically they’re the biggest self appointed military around here. They wish to cleanse the wasteland of low life scum, which occasionally includes us. Speaking of lowlife scum, Hawke this is Fenris.”

He snaps off one of the tips off the claw. The juices squirt out, I feel a drop land on my cheek. He uses the piece to gesture back and forth.

“Fenris, Hawke. You’ll have to forgive his personality, unfortunately he’s always this cold.”

Fenris shoots him an icy glare only proving his statement. Varric waggles the claw tip at him before tossing it over the fire. Fenris reaches up to catch it and begins to peel it open. I hear another crack as Varric breaks off the other tip. He takes it and offers it to me.

“Mirelurk?”

I hesitantly take the piece and begin to pick at it.

“So fridge meat.”, Fenris sneers, looking at me. “Why did you leave your vault? Or did they kick you out?”

I snort which causes my nose to throb and tell him, “No, I wasn’t kicked out. I’m looking for someone.”

Varric and Fenris share a knowing glance before turning their full attention to me.

“My sister… she was kidnapped. Big guy in a leather suit beamed in and snatched her.”

I look over to Fenris.

“Kinda looked like you except a lot bigger, more muscular.”  

Varric lets out a long “hm” almost as a warning.

“Sounds like the Institutes involved.”, Varric says in a low tone. “I’m sorry Hawke, but she might be gone forever.”

I snap to him, my voice borderline aggressive, “What do you mean?”

Fenris speaks calmly, “He means once the Institute has taken an interest in someone, they lock in on taking them and keeping them. Though it’s especially strange for them to have taken someone from a vault.”

“Yeah they most likely wont let her go easy. But why her?”

Varric taps his fingers across his chin looking into the fire. His gaze snaps to Fenris, his eyes twinkle as his mouth spreads open into a cat like grin.

Fenris frowns at him and warns,  “Varric…. This could be too risky.”

Varric slaps his leg with a hand.

“Oh come on Broody! This could be fun! Think of all the trouble we could get into.”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking of.”, Fenris sighs.

“Well it’s not like we have anything better to do. It’ll be like solving a mystery.”

Varric beams as he shoots to his feet.

“Filled with action, adventure, murder, and possibly even romance!”

Fenris groans, “You’re dreaming again little man.”

“Oh come on, we have the resources. Daisy and Rivaini love this type of shit.”

He claps his hands together and turns to me, pointing down with them.

“Here my dear Fenris, lies before you one of the greatest opportunities in your life. Don’t you dare let them go to waste.”

Fenris and I look at each other, each raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t understand how that’s an opportunity.” Ouch. “We’ve already wasted enough time and resources on them. I doubt confronting the Institute for them would be worth it.” Double ouch. “They should be doing us the favors.”

Varric sighs, “Okay, think of it this way, if we can get them inside and learn what the Institute is doing with the people they take, we’ll be one step closer to shutting them down.”

Fenris perks up and straightens his back.

“And…?”

“And probably destroying a lot synths.”, Varric grumbles.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Fenris flashes a devious smile. He gets up and walks over to his suit.

“I’ll radio Isabela and tell her we’re coming back early with company.”

 ___

Varric and Fenris, I learned, have a system when they’re out collecting supplies. Carry only necessary items when hunting and leave valuables in caches to be recollected along the way back. And if for some reason they encounter someone in need of help, assist them and afterwards take half of their things as payment. If they don’t comply, well, they won't be needing the rest of their items.

We’ve been walking along the beach for several hours exchanging stories, which actually means just Varric talking about his adventures. Fenris doesn’t say much except for an occasional comment and a grunt.

Varric tells me that he used to be in a mercenary group with his older brother. They were doing well until something snapped in his brother, maybe it was too much radiation or too many chems. Varric had to put him down and afterwards swore never to get back into that line of work. He grows quiet after that and we walk in silence for a bit.

Varric clears his throat and tries to reignite the conversation saying, “You know you’re the second vault dweller we’ve met. Well that I’ve met, Broody you weren’t there when we met Sweet Randall. That was a trip.”

“Isabela told me about that.”, Fenris says, his voice modified by his suit's helmet.

“Sweet Randall?”, I chuckle at the name.

Varric takes out a precooked Mirelurk leg from his pack and begins peeling it.

“Yeah, that kid got kicked out of his vault because he stole a shit ton of candies and sweets.”, Varric says before taking a bite of the leg. “And also murdering someone.”  

“Oh, alright then.”

Varric speaks in between bites, “Tried to kill poor Daisy in her sleep one night. Isabela had none of that. But I’m hoping you’ll be the opposite.”

I hear Fenris huff.

“Varric has a theory that vault dwellers are either the strongest people in the wasteland or end up being the craziest.”

“Makes sense.”, I agree.

Varric finishes the leg and tosses it into the ocean. I watch as it plops in the water and spot in the distance an enormous structure.

More than a mile away from us is a beached military cargo ship. It glows in the night from all the construction lights scattered on it. The hull has been blown open, its contents scattered across the beach. Wooden structures stack against the opening, ladders and bridges connect them. Across the side someone had sloppily painted over it’s original name, “Lady Anora” and below replaced it with “Hanged Man”. Several skeletons and corpses hang beside the name swaying with the sea breeze.  

“There she is.” Varric announces and spreads his arms wide. “Home sweet home.”

 ____

The closer we get to the ship, the stronger the odor of liquor, cigarettes, and garbage becomes. The place is bustling, busy with noises of domestic living. Or what you could call domestic enough for the wasteland.

The place is littered with junk and people sitting around with bottles in their hands. Looking up I spot several corpses swaying in the breeze attached to the blown opening of the hull.

Stepping over several passed out residents, we make our way up into the main structure.

Placed inside above the rest of the structures, held by beams and ropes, lays part of an enormous deconstructed nuclear missile.  The head of it is missing, the contents inside have been replaced with what could be described as a small town. We continue inside, the filthy residents emerging to greet Varric merrily. But once they notice me they glare, whispering warnings among themselves.

At the end of the missile hangs the largest building towering above the rest. On an overhang sits a series of pieced together neon letters reading, “Captain's Cabin”. Above the sign on the wall is a crude painting of a nude blonde woman laying on a beach.

A clamor of clinking drinks and yelling echoes from the building. We step inside the open entrance and we’re greeted by a woman yelling at someone to “sit the fuck down.”

Walking into the crowded bar my sight is immediately directed to the end. On a raised platform a dark haired woman lounges in a russet loveseat with a clear drink in one hand and a knife in the other. Behind her chair, attached to the wall is a halo of various weapons, in the very center lies an enormous axe.

She throws the knife at the ceiling before swinging her long legs to the ground and standing up. She glares down at the man she was yelling at earlier. Taking a final gulp of her drink, she throws the glass at the wall by the entrance. It shatters next to my head and she steps down to confront the man. Her boots pound on the wooden floor causing the room to part and quiet down.

I try to ignore the fact that once again I was almost hit in the face by something deadly and follow Varric to the bar and take a seat. Fenris does his best in his power armor to slip past the crowd and into the doorway by the platform.

“Look…. Lucky.”, she slurs. “I don’t want to go over this with you, again. You got your payment, just hand over the goddamn chems and leave.”

Lucky scowls down at her and spits, “You’re not getting shit until you explain why you didn’t warn us that the place was crawling with ferals. Half of my men are dead because of you.”

The woman shrugs.

“That’s not my issue hun. I seem to remember you telling me that you were the best at what you do.”

She places a hand on her hip and shifts her weight to that side. Lucky fumes, his hands clenched at his sides.

“You’re a two faced whore, you know that? And you wonder why no one wants to business with you anymore…”

The woman scoffs and gives him a small smile. She begins to turn around, and as she seems to take a step, she whips around and decks him in the face. He’s knocked to the ground, his nose bleeding and askew. The crowd that had formed around them backs away, including some of Lucky’s own men.

Lucky rolls on the floor holding his broken nose and groaning in pain. She strides over him, kicking him on his back and firmly plants a boot on his chest. She reaches into her cleavage and wrestles with her bodice to bring out a small pistol. Lucky hears the gun cock and stops moving entirely.

“Oh Lucky, look what you’ve gone and done.”, she croons. “You bloodied my favorite ring.”

She rotates the hand she’s holding the gun with to examine her jeweled knuckles. Lucky attempts to bolt up but is greeted with the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

She presses the gun to him forcing him to back down and warns, “Uh uh, now are you going to finish your job? Or are you going to make me ruin my floor.”

Lucky looks over to his cowering men and nods his head to them to ‘get over here’. One of them holding a pack walks over and drops it before them. The woman uncocks the gun and pulls it away from his head. She bends over, taking the bag and using the barrel of her gun shifts through it’s contents. With a content ‘hm’ she steps off of Lucky and tosses the bag over to her seat.

“Okay you can leave.”

She glares down at Lucky and then at the doorway.

Lucky gets up, spits at her feet and hobbels out like a wounded animal. The rest of his crew follow him and the bar continues as if nothing happened. The woman puts her gun back in her bodice and tips up the sea captain's hat on her head. Adjusting her tattered admiral jacket, she takes a look around the room and spots Varric. He waves at her and she heads over to us.

“It’s good to see nothing’s changed while we were gone.”, Varric chuckles.

She takes a seat next to him, still unaware of my presence. She leans over the bar, her breasts laying flat on the counter as she pulls out a bottle and two glasses. Examining the bottle she frowns before sitting back down.

“You guys weren’t gone that long. Did you bring me back any goodies?”, her voice croons at the end.

She uncorks the bottle and fills the two glasses, she hands Varric one and smiles at him eagerly.

Varric takes a sip before saying, “I did in fact. Isabela I’d like you to meet someone very special…”

He leans back in his seat and turns to me. He slaps my back gently before placing a hand behind my neck, pulling my head forward slightly.

“This is Hawke.”

Isabela’s face lights up.

“Aw Varric, you shouldn’t have. But you know Kitten and I are exclusive now.”

Her eyes drift across my face and down onto my bright blue suit. A crease begins to form between her brows and her expression drops. She snaps back to Varric.

“I thought we agreed no more vault dwellers.”

Varric takes another sip and looks up at her through the glass. He retracts his hand from my neck and shrugs.

Isabela sighs, “Varric, come talk to me in the back.”

She gets up from the seat and grabs the bottle as she walks away.

Varric turns to me and reassures, “She, ah, she’s cautious, but you understand right? Can never be too careful.”

He begins to walk away, mid step he turns around and reaches for his pack. He shuffles through it and takes out a large Mirelurk head along with a tiny pouch. He places both on the counter and motions for the attention of the barkeep.

He pushes the head and the pouch toward them and smoothly requests, “Cook it up just how I like it. Thanks doll.”

I watch him waddle away, leaving me stranded in a sea of filthy drunken residents. He gets to the entrance at the same time Fenris steps out, carrying a black jacket under an arm. He’d ditched the power armor for a brown leather bomber jacket and had tied back his hair. They exchange a word before Fenris nods and looks at me. Varric pats him on the arm and heads out the doorway.

Fenris slinks my way, dodging through a starting fist fight between two patrons. He takes a seat next to me letting out a breath and places the jacket on the counter.

“Here put this on. It’ll help you from standing out so much.”

I scoff, “Why is it such a big deal for you guys?”

Fenris side glares at me, it seems I’ve touched a nerve.

“Because most view dwellers as trouble or just sheltered rats who need to be taught a lesson. It’s for your own good, trust me.”

His face softens for an instant as he pushes the jacket closer to me. I let out a sigh and take it, unfolding it to hold it up and examine it. On the back is a patch of an uncomfortably muscular dog leaping across the middle, it’s teeth bared. Above in red letters reads “Kirkwall Hounds”.

“Kirkwall hounds?”

Fenris is leaning over the counter to grab a bottle, he hears me and looks over to the jacket. Sitting back down he lets out a dry laugh as if remembering a bad joke.

“It’s from the old local military base, Fort Kirkwall. Varric found it on a corpse there, he wanted to wear it but it’s too small for him.”

I “hm” at him and put the jacket on over my suit. It slides on like a glove, I pop the collar and cross my arms. I lean back in my seat facing him and put on my best mean face. He snorts and uncaps the bottle.

“Just need some sunglasses and a pompadour. Maybe then I won't stick out so much.”

Fenris flashes a small smile at me, causing my stomach to take a plunge.

“Don’t forget the caked dirt and scars.”

He takes a sip of his drink and watches as I tap my busted nose.

“Halfway there.”, I joke and smile back at him.

A comfortable silence settles between us as we share a drink. The fight that Fenris had dodged earlier is starting to escalate. A circle forming around the two sparring patrons. We watch them fight, each seem like hardened fighters. The smaller one of the two dodges an uppercut before jabbing the larger one in the gut. The larger man staggers back for a second before pushing all of his force into a blow to the chest. The blow lands and throws the small man straight into Fenris’s back.

Fenris flies into me and for a second he’s encased in my arms.

“Uh oh.” I say watching his face contort in anger.

I feel him tense up before pushing off of me and facing the man that collided with him. The man gives him a meek smile, holding up his hands in defense and starts walking backwards into the receding crowd. Before he got any further, Fenris throws a jab into the man's stomach causing him to curl in. He reaches around and grabs the back of the man's head, slamming it down into the bar. A resounding smack echoes through the room and the crowd goes wild.

I stifle a laugh, putting a hand to my face to cover a sick smile.

The man slides down the bar, hitting the floor, he turns to sit on the ground.

The whole bar immediately stops cheering.

Little sparks fly from the man's face, the upper left half of his skin dangling loose like a ripped rubber mask. The flesh on his jaw peeled away revealing a metal jaw. His eyes dart around in fear at the faces surrounding him. He smacks his hands to his face in an attempt to reattach the fake flesh.

I look up to Fenris in shock, he doesn’t look back at me. He’s glaring down at the thing cowering in front of him, his eyes murderous. I hear him hiss under his breath,

“Oh fuck no.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: In which Merrill did nothing wrong.

Aggression is something I’ve always leaned toward for a main tactic when dealing with issues such as family, friends, work, eating, and so on. Which isn’t surprising considering the environment I grew up in. When we first moved to the vault we were treated as outsiders. Outsiders who are to be ignored and given a harder punishment for our wrongdoings. So I guess it just comes naturally to me.

But since stepping out of the vault and into the wasteland, I’m beginning to rethink my definition of aggression.

Fenris’s knuckles are bleeding, scraped across the hard edge of a metal jaw. He hits it again, pushing it back on the ground of the filthy bar. Reaching into his jacket he pulls out a gun and begins to shoot repeatedly, over and over again. Never relenting, never showing a sign of hesitation. Even when I try to pull him away, he continues firing at the thing that we once saw as a man. What’s left are wires and steel, it’s false skin ripped away from the shots. Part of me wants to let him finish, but part of me wants to know what it is.

Most of me wants to know why Fenris hates this thing so much.

Through the clamour, I hear Varric call his name and yell at him to stop. I turn to watch him and Isabela emerge from the crowd, their faces contorted in disbelief.  A very petite, short dark haired woman stumbles in next to Isabela and grabs her arm in surprise at the sight before her. Her wide green eyes flitter around the scene, taking it all in. Noticing the gun, she practically lunges at Fenris knocking it from his hands and causing me to step back.

The woman yells at him, “Stop! You’re going to kill him!”

Fenris looks down at her, infuriated. He takes a step closer to her, only inches from her small frame. His gaze flashes up to Isabela, who now stands closely behind the woman in front of them. Looking back down at her, he huffs out a frustrated breath through his nose.

His voice rumbles deep and low, “Good. It deserves to eradicated.”

With that he pushes past the two and heads towards the back doorway. I start walking after him hoping to find answers.

“Fenris, wait.”, I call after him.

A steady hand grabs my arm and forces me to a halt. I look down to see Varric shaking his head at me and then turning to watch Fenris disappear.

“It’s better to leave him be for a bit.”, he whispers. “Let him cool down before you start attacking him with questions.”

I give him a slow nod and turn back to others, who were now attempting to help the poor thing Fenris blasted holes into. The woman who would had stopped Fenris, was holding it’s head up and examining the damage. Her hands flitter around it’s body evaluating each bullet wound. She hesitates at its face, holding her hand above the ripped skin. She lightly peels it away revealing the metallic skull.

Her gaze flits up to Isabela and says meekly, “Oh creators, we need to move him to the back.”

She leans back onto her ankles and puts a hand on its chest. The hand follows it’s chest dipping slightly down and back up, indicating it’s still alive and barely breathing.

“Fenris has really done it this time…. I warned you he would snap. But do you ever listen? Oh no, he’s been through a lot he would never harm one of ours, of course not...”

Across from her Isabela scowls and opens her mouth to say something, but stops and lets out a breath. She looks up to Varric and I and gestures with a nod for us to come closer. The woman across from her turns her attention to me and squints. Her eyebrows shoot up and her mouth forms an “oh”.

“You must be Hawke. Yes?”, she chimes almost too cheery for the situation. “Varric informed us about your ‘unique’ situation. That’s so strange that happened to her- your sister. I want to let you know that I am very very excited to help and that-”

Varric clears his throat interrupting her.  “Daisy, that can wait.”

She looks to him, her train of thought appearing to fade and looks back to the thing laying beside her.

“Right, right. This is more important. Focus Merrill, focus.”, she mumbles and bites her lip. “One of you get his legs and the other his arms.”

Varric and I do as instructed, lifting the limp body and head to the back. Isabela stays by the bar, leaning over it to talk to the barkeep.

The crowd around us has begun to dissipate. The man that was fighting it earlier now stands back, holding their hands to their mouth in disgust.

We walk through the doorway and into a dim narrow hallway. It turns to the right revealing a set of stairs heading into a loft. The loft is…. cozy.  A torn black leather couch sits to the far left of the room. Varric and I wobble over to it and set the thing gently on it. Merrill slips past us and kneels by the head of it.

“Varric will you please fetch me my toolbox.”, she says focused on fidgeting with the things face. “It should be next to my terminal.”

Varric gives her a casual two fingered salute saying, “Got it.”

Merrill rests her left arm against the couch and I noticed the glowing green screen of an old Pipboy. It’s been repainted a darker green in an attempt to blend in the bulky modifications she had added. Something was off about the way it sat on her arm It’s plug cord was partially imbedded into her arm. The skin around the cord was slightly torn away revealing metallic bone and wires.

I avert my gaze and try to focus on the kitten painting above the couch.

Clearing my throat I ask, “Hey uh, Merrill?”

She shoots a side glance at me but continues working.

“Yes, Hawke?”

“Where’d you get that Pipboy?”,  I hesitate to ask.

She stops working and looks over to her arm. She smiles warmly and looks over her shoulder at me.

“Found it. Actually on an old timer when we first colonized the ship.” , she says still smiling at me. She gestures to the far corner of the room where sits the remains of a dining chair. Propped up on it, facing the wall, sits a skeleton wearing a faded vault suit. The yellow numbers on its back read 113 .

“He didn’t need it when I found him so it’s all good. He’s good company when everyone's out.”

I frown at the numbers and then to her. Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Oh, you’re probably wondering about the cord.”

I’m actually not, really, I’d rather know why there’s a skeleton wearing a suit from my vault.

She continues, “It’s because I’m-”

“A Saint.”, Varric chimes in. He places a rather large red toolbox next to her.

Merrils cheeks tint a deep red, she lets out a small laugh. She begins digging through the toolbox.

“Well, no dear Varric. I’m a synth. And I’m not afraid who knows, despite you and Isabela’s worrying.”

“Synth?”, I ask. “Is that what that thing is too?”

Varric chuckles next to me. He takes out a cigarette from his coat and a red gem stone plated lighter. He places it between his lips and flicks the lighter open.

“Oh boy.”, he speaks between drags. “Blue, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

Merril is scowling at me.

“It is a he, and he is a living being just like you are.”, she scolds and turns back to him, continuing to work. “We’re just not made the same way. We still can feel and hurt. Well most of us can, some of us for some reason weren’t programmed the same way. But none the less. We’re not monsters.”

“But you’re not human. You’re not organic. Right?”

I’m answered by a groan coming from the robot or synth or whatever on the couch. We all turn our attention to him and watch as his eyes lazily circle around the room.

Merrill closes up her toolbox and says, “Oh good that worked. Are you alright? How are you feeling?”

He attempts to prop himself up on his elbows and looks at each of our faces, his expression blank. His eyes scan across me and stops. He gives me a lazily smile, the torn skin making it mildly disturbing.

“I’m fine now.”, he says, his voice distorted and robotic. “Have we met before?”

Varric lets out a short burst of laughter and starts coughing. He covers his mouth with an arm and turns away from us.

Merrill speaks up, “Okay… his sensors might be a little damaged. Do you remember your name?”

The synth turns to her slowly and frowns. He looks down to his lap, confused.

“Jowan?”, he asks. “Yeah, I think that's my name. Jo...wan.”

He looks to me as if for reassurance but I look away to Varric still coughing. I pat the poor guy's back and he waves my hand away.

“Are you sure we haven't met before?”, Jowan asks me.

“Unless you've visited my vault, I highly doubt it.”, I reply still looking at Varric who has stopped coughing but is now a nice shade of cherry red.

“Hawke, why-”, Merril begins.

 Jowan interrupts her, “Wait, your name is Hawke? I-I need to leave.”

The synth begins getting up, he pushes off the couch making Merrill get up. Merrill tries to help him, putting an arm under his.

“Thank you for the assistance, but I really need to go.”, he mumbles not looking at any of us.

Merrill asks, concerned, “Are you sure? I don’t think your legs-”

Her concerns are answered by him attempting to stand up and falling face forward. One of his legs was bent obscurely. Despite falling he still moves on using his elbows.

“It’s fine.”, he says looking up to her. “You should too, it won't be safe for long.”

I step in front of him to block his path. I crouch down to his eye level and hold up a hand for him to stop.

“What do you mean it won’t be safe?”, I ask venomously.

He makes an attempt to back up, his eyes flitting around avoiding eye contact. He makes an attempt at swallowing before pushing himself up so where he’s sitting, leaning against the couch.

“We- I can’t be around a Hawke. If you’re here that means a Courser may be near.”, he says his voice on the verge of frantic.

Merrill looks at Varric and asks, “Why would a Courser be after them?”

Varric shrugs and tells her, “How would I know? But if that’s the case we’re more than capable of taking care of one. Hey, Jowan I need you to calm down and explain this shit you’re saying.”

I agree, “Yeah, why would whatever a Courser is be after me?”

Jowan shakes his head rapidly in rejection.

“I can’t- no, I need to get as far away from you as a I can.”

With that he tries to stand up once again, this time holding his broken leg and hobbles away. As he gets to the stairs, he stops and steps back as Isabela climbs up. She’s carrying two wine bottles with another peaking out of her pocket.

She frowns at the frightened Jowan and turns to us.

“What’d I miss?”

I get up from my crouch and turn to face her. Merrill steps next to me and places a gentle hand on my arm.

“I think you should go check on Fenris.”, she whispers. “Maybe we can get some answers from Jowan if you’re out of the room.”

“Ok, where is he though?”, I whisper back.

“Oh right, you have to go out the window and climb up the ladder that’s just outside of it. If you just follow the ramparts it should be pretty easy. He should be at his usual spot in the control room.”

I give her a nod and head to the window she mentioned. As I begin to head through it, Isabela calls a slurred version of my name causing me to stop and look back at her. She’s swinging one of the wine bottles towards me and moving her eyebrows up and down. She tosses it to me, I fumble it before catching it and holding it to my chest.

“That should help with talking to elf prince.”, she says winking at me.

I scoff and head back out. Out the window, attached to a support beam holding some of the shack up, sits a cracked piece of plywood.  I suck air through my teeth as it creaks as I put all my weight on it. I look over to the ladder and quickly grab onto it, beginning my ascent. From there it’s pretty a straightforward path of broken plywood and support beams. I almost fall down in the abyss about three times but that’s fine. Everything’s fine.

I somehow end up in a caved in storage room, the roof and floor of the next story dipping into the room creating a ramp to the top. I make my way up and I'm greeted by stars and smoke.

The top of the ship is cluttered with storage containers, most broken or blown away. The spread open hull is cluttered with wooden spikes holding the ropes of the hanged corpses. It’s quieter and darker than below except for the occasionally scurry of residents.

I make my way through the maze of containers, heading to the opposite end of the ship. Gunshots echo in the night air and I recognize the sound.

I arrive at what's left of  the control center of the ship and head up the ladder to the next level. Most of this part of the ship had been blown away with parts of it crudely patched up with scrap metal and wood.

I make my around a corner and come across a doorway with a bent “keep out” sign hung above it. In the corner between the ship and the doorway, pinned with knives and bolts is another skeleton. Someone had smacked blue paint across its frame. I look through the doorway to see part of the blown away control center and further back the open ocean. Lined along the edge sits at least a dozen various types of bottles.

One of them shatters and a gunshot rings through the cabin. I make my way towards the opening to an exposed steel beam. Another shot goes off and I look to see Fenris lounging on a worn sleeping bag against the outer ship wall. Leaning against the beam, I cross my arms, bottle still in hand, and clear my throat.

Fenris’ head snaps to my direction along with his gun. He scans over me before putting his gun down.

“Oh, it's just you.” , he groans.

I chuckle, “Expecting someone more interesting?”

He shakes his head and begins reloading his gun.

“No, maybe Varric or Isabela come to finally kick me out. Either way they wouldn't be welcome.”

I look down to the bottle that Isabela gave me and give it a swirl.

“Why's that? You all seem fairly close.”

He stops and glances up to me, frowning.

“I wouldn't use that term. Close.”, he scoffs. “You take what you can get out here.”

I walk over to him, uncrossing my arms and hand him the bottle.

“Well either way, I assume Isabela wanted to give you this.”

He takes it, hesitant, and looks at it before putting it in his stack of unopened bottles in the corner next to him. He hums in approval and picks up an open bottle next to him. He takes a long drink before gesturing for me to sit next to him. I take a seat leaving enough room between us so it's comfortable.

He shoots another bottle before asking, “So did that abomination survive?”

“Something like that. Apparently it doesn't want me anywhere near it.”

Fenris side glances me and shoots another bottle.

“How so?”

I shrug and tell him, “I don't even know. Hawke's are bad juju. Which in a lot of ways is true.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.”, he says taking another swig from his bottle. “But you could say a lot of people out in the wasteland have bad luck or bad juju.” He air quotes and the corners of his mouth pull.

“Would one of those people be you?”, I say trying to pry him open a bit.

His nose crinkles, he takes one last drink and throws the bottle towards the others. It knocks two down sending them into the abyss below.

“Bad luck would be putting it lightly.”, he says not looking at me. “Waking up in a cage of filth, bleeding, with these markings all over my body and no memories. Only to discover that I’m not a free human being but a piece of flesh to be used as entertainment and a tool. That, that is something far worse than bad luck.”

“You were a-”

“A slave, yes.”, he huffs a sigh. “Currently on the run, I suppose. It’s been almost two years of this running shit.”

“Sounds like you’re tired.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a fresh pack of cigarettes that looks like one that I got from the vault. He unwraps it and peels it open, taking one out. He places it in his mouth, then takes his gun and shoots it twice at the bottles before pressing the cigarette tip against it using the heated barrel as a makeshift lighter. Taking a drag, he offers me one from the pack.

“Try bored.”, he says between slow drags. “I’m only here because I owe Varric and unfortunately Merill for saving my life. After I’ve fulfilled my usefulness to them, I’m off.”

I take a cigarette from the pack and put it hesitantly in my mouth. I’ve only smoked once and I actually hated it, but that was when I was naive and about eight years old. This time Fenris offers me an old lighter instead of wasting bullets.

“That explains why Merrill is alive and unharmed, unlike the other synth.”

I flick the lighter open and hold it to the tip. I breathe in and fight the urge to cough as the hot smoke tickles my throat.

Exhaling, the urge prevails and I cough, “Why do you hate synths so much?”

He scoffs, “Why wouldn’t you? They’re abominations. They weren’t conceived in a natural womb, they were grown in a lab. Programmed with these false identities and personalities that aren’t their own, it’s unnatural. Technology like that is what started the war that brought all of this chaos we have today.”

“You think Merrill is a bomb?”

Fenris turns to me and glares, the orange light of the cigarette giving him a more menacing aura.

“No… I’m saying their existence could add up to the equivalent of one.”, he explains before taking a final drag and flicking the butt towards the broken bottles. “When I was a slave they had us fight synths. Captured modified synths. It was some sort of twisted gladiator tournament between man and the abominations. Most of the time they sent out unarmed men to fight them, occasionally even children. I’ve watched so many wasted lives die by their hands.”

“It doesn’t sound like either party had a choice in the matter.”

“This is true, but I’d rather the abominations be slaughtered than those innocent lives.”

I take another drag, processing, this time letting the smoke seep out from my lips until it hurts to hold in. It’s affect washing over me like a wave of calm and suddenly my mind is empty. I look over to Fenris admiring his elegant nose, the moonlight making his features more angular.

“Fenris.”

He turns to me and stares blankly. He quirks an eyebrow before turning back around to grab another wine bottle.

I ask, “You just met me. Why are you being so tolerant?”

He leans back down and uncorks the bottle. He takes a drink and contemplates his answer.

Setting the bottle between us, he replies, “Do I not seem like a tolerant person?”

“Honestly? No, not at all.”

He gives a light chuckle and looks at me.

“Then honestly…”, he hesitates. “I don’t think you’ll last.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and my jaw drops.

“You think I’m going to die?”, I say with a chuckle.

He shakes his head saying, “From what I’ve seen, it’s most likely you won't last that long. I’m sure you can make it to the institute but it’s more likely that they’ll execute you then save your sister.”

I squint and make a “what the fuck are you talking about” face at him.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”, I tell him and take the bottle between us, holding it up to my lips. “Just means I’ll have to prove you wrong.”

“There’s nothing I would want to see more.”, he says looking at me and giving me a genuine smile.

We spend the rest of the night lazily drinking and smoking the rest of the pack. We exchange stories, I tell him about my adventures with Carver and Bethany maintaining the vault. His stories are far more interesting, most of them about him and Varric scavenging across the commonwealth. He tells me about how he had to fight an assultron and a sentry bot at once with only a fifty mm pistol and ten bullets to get his power armor. I learn he’s very proud of his armor and I don’t blame him. Eventually I pass out from exhaustion, my head somehow ending up rested on his shoulder.

My rest doesn’t feel long before I’m woken up from a rattling explosion in the distance.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: In which, wait, who the fuck gave Fenris a fatman?

An explosion echoes across the ship, waking me from my restless sleep. I hear the glass bottles rattle from the vibrations that follow. I bolt up from the sleeping bag and scramble to my feet, a tattered blanket that had been laid on me falling off. I wipe the crusted drool from my cheek and frantically look around for Fenris. I call his name but get no answer.  In my frightened groggy state, I decide to make my way back through the death trap of a ship to the Captain's Cabin. I finally end up back at the loft and stumble my way through the window. The room is empty, the synth from yesterday gone, only Merrill and Varric huddled over a radio transmitter arguing into it.

“What do you mean you didn’t know they were sending Coursers?”, Merrill asks frantically into the microphone.

I barely make out the voice speaking back over another explosion that's followed by several gun shots.

“They banned me from the counsel! How would I have known?”, the voice explains and then sighs. “Look I’m sorry, but they’re watching me more closely now. I’m still a suspect of that last incident. Which you still haven’t really thanked me for.”

Varric takes the microphone from her and says, “We’ll thank you later, after you help us figure out what caused this shitstorm. Do you know why they’re here?”

There’s a pause. I make my way over to the two. Merrill looks up at me and gives me a worried smile.

The transmitter crackles and the voice is back. “Sorry, thought I heard someone. Um, yes and no. I only heard tidbits, some rumors about the next Courser missions. The usual mostly, a couple escaped synths and something about the other Hawke.”

The two look at me and then to each other, worried. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to save my ass.

I lean in to talk to the microphone but before I can open my mouth, Merril places a hand on it and pulls me away. She’s shaking her head and mouths a “no”.

She whispers to me, “He doesn’t know you’re here-”

“Is there someone else with you? Who is it? Guys we talked about this.”, the voice says panicked.

Varric groans, “They’re not a threat to us. Or you for that matter. It’s your other Hawke.”

“Ah shit, you guys are so fucked.”, the voice exhales.

“Why? Who is this?”, I speak into the microphone after tentatively wrestling out of Merrill’s surprisingly strong grip.

The voice clears their throat, “Well, if your friends have let you in on this private conversation, then I would assume that they told you who I am.”

Varric explains, “He’s our inside man… from the institute. We don’t use names for safety reasons. You never know who’s listening.”

“Wait, what, you’re inside the institute?”

The voice shushes me, “Yes, wow you are very nosy.”

A million questions jam into my head, this could finally be my chance to get my answers and possibly get in.

“What do you guys have against my family? Why did you take Bethany?”, I interrogate.

“Hey, take it down a notch. I personally have nothing against you. And I’m sure she’s fine.”

“What do you mean fine?”

The voice pauses again and then whispers, “I mean that she’s probably doing a lot better than you are.”

I hear Varric scoff, “Well no shit, everyone there is, in your little isolated underground fridge.”

“Excuse you, this not a paradise or even…”, the voice rambles on about their plight.

I look at Varric and tell him, “That’s not good enough. I need to get her home.”

Varric purses his lips and turns back to the transmitter.

“Hey I know this isn’t the right time to be talking about this but would it be possible to get us in anytime soon?”, Varric asks.

The voices laughs quietly, “You mean in here? The institute. I’m stilling trying to figure out a way of getting someone inside, let alone all of you. I mean honestly, if I could get someone in and out of here as easy as you want to believe, do you think I would still even be here? Hell no.”

Varric rolls his eyes but doesn’t respond. Another explosion goes off, this time too close for comfort. We all grip onto the table for support. The vibrations cause the entire room to shake and sway, knocking junk off shelves and skeletons off chairs. When they stop, Varric ends up huddling over the transmitter and Merrill and I, underneath the table.

The voice crackles, “That doesn’t sound good.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Varric says letting go of the transmitter and dusts himself off. “Ok, say it is possible that at least one of us gets in, how much time would you need?”

“Are you even listening to me?”, the voice says followed by shuffling noises. “The blueprints I’m working on aren’t even half complete and even if I somehow complete them, I have no way of-”

There’s another pause before a gasp, “Oh shit!” The voice laughs almost manically. “This is perfect. You guys have exactly what I need, right at your doorstep. Destroying it none the less. Oh, why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Well what is it?”, Merrill speaks up.

“Just get me either one of the Courser’s chips, you’ll know it when you see it.”, the voice laughs again. “How could I miss that. Okay, okay, get that and I need to start finalizing the details. Wow, one of you could actually be here by tomorrow! Good luck!”

The audio cuts out. Merrill reaches over to turn the device off and sighs.

Varric claps his hands together and rubs them together saying, “Well hopefully Fenris hasn’t blown them to unsalvageable bits.”

Another explosion goes off causing the same effect as before and answering Varric’s statement.

“Varric, please tell me you didn’t give him the fatman…”, Merrill says scowling at him.

Varric shrugs, putting his hands up defensively.

“It gets the job done. Plus you should see the amount of gen 1’s they sent.”, He whistles for emphasis. “It’s as if they were planning to wage war on little old us.”

Merrill groans and makes her way through the rubble to a faded green storage trunk.

I look down to Varric and raise an eyebrow asking, “So who was that?”

“On the radio? Um, hopefully you’ll be meeting them soon.”, He says with a wink.

“Oh, why me? I mean I’m not saying no, it just would make more sense if you sent someone you knew better.”

Varric waves his hand dismissively and scoffs, “Nah, you seem more motivated than us and we all have too much business out here. Our inside guy will keep an eye on you and he can be very convincing when talking about helping us. Besides you do kinda owe us your life.”

“Varric,” Merrill calls, she’s holding an ammo case and what looks to be a sniper cartridge. “I’m going to up to Isabela, radio us if anything… worse, happens.”

Varric gives her a two finger salute saying, “Gotcha.”

“Oh, Hawke.” Merrill exclaims before setting down the case and digging through the trunk. She pulls out a shotgun and tosses it to me. I catch it and examine it’s dented rusty exterior.

“You seem like a shotgun type of person. Good luck you two! I’ll see you later.” She says with a smile before disappearing through the window.

I hear Varric gasp, rustling through the rubble and pulling something large out. I watch as he heaves up a beautiful crossbow, looking out of place in the mess. He brushes it off and coo’s at it.

“Oh Bianca, honey, I’m so sorry.”, he says planting a kiss on the large modified crossbow. “I promise that won't happen again. Now let’s go kick some ass.”

 ____

I’ve read about big battles in our history textbooks, but they never got into the bloody details of what it actually is. They only glaze over who won and never about the smells or the bone-rattling sounds.

Standing on the porch of the Captain’s Cabin and watching the bullets fly across the opening opening of the missile, I feel my stomach drop. A strange metallic taste creeping up from my throat into the base of my skull. Fear.

Something whistles through the air and lands with a thundering boom, a small mushroom cloud peeking up. It sends a tremor across the ship and a wave of warm radiation.

“Hey Blue,” Varric’s voice breaks me out of the trance. “Don’t freeze up on me now. Come on let’s go.”

With a little arm wave, he bounds down the steps towards the fight. I stand contemplating if this is all worth it. What would be the harm of staying behind? Probably nothing, they seem all perfectly capable of fighting this on their own. But who am I kidding, staying out of this is a coward's way out, and a Hawke is no coward. I inhale and exhale deeply, I jump down the steps and follow him into the fray.

The buildings inside the missile appear to be untouched but there’s no movement among them. We reach the opening and I finally get a full view of the battle. Several of the wooden shacks have been obliterated, what’s left are tiny craters, their embers floating up to the sky in stacks. White figures dart across the shacks, shooting their bright blue beams toward the ship. One whizzes by Varric and we quickly seek cover behind some barrels. We both peer over them and Varric begins returning fire.

In the corner of my eye flashes the silver of steel and the glow of blue headlights. Fenris jumps over a roof unto another just as the spot he was previously on is blown to splinters. He gets back up as quickly as his power armor allows and heaves the large weapon he’s carrying onto his shoulder. He pulls the trigger, stepping back from the push of the weapon. The bomb whistles through the air, I duck behind the barrels as it lands.

Varric “woo’s” beside me, obviously thrilled by the heat of the battle. I look back to watch how Fenris is doing. He had tossed aside the Fatman in exchange for a shotgun and charged towards the metal skeletons that were now backing away. He blazes through them, tossing most aside like rag dolls. He’s searching, looking for something or someone.

A man in a black leather suit emerges from a building a ways behind Fenris, carrying a missile launcher. I pat Varric on the arm rapidly to get his attention and motion towards the threat.

“Oh shit.” Varric mutters under his breath. He raises Bianca, letting out a steady breath, he shoots and hits the man right on the hand carrying the launcher, knocking it out of his grip. Fenris whips around to see what happened behind him and then looks up to us. He gives a nod before firing at the man. Varric gives him a thumbs up before turning to me and gripping me on the shoulder.

“That’s one of the Coursers.” He almost shouts above the gunshots below. “We should get down there to make sure Broody doesn’t obliterate what we need.”

I give him a curt nod. He returns with a reassuring grin before hopping over the barrels and beginning the descent to the lower part of the Hanged Man. I follow his lead and almost get nailed in the leg by a stray bullet.  We run through the buildings firing at anything headed our way. As we almost reach the area where Fenris is, a laser grazes me across my right arm, cutting through the jacket and reopening the wounds from the Deathclaw. I stumble and grip it in pain before getting slammed down by a blur of black and grey.

My head knocks down onto the dirt and hits a rock. I feel the blood start to run down as I struggle to see what’s on top of me. Strong hands wrap around my neck and squeeze down. Gasping, I pull at the arms and try to kick out the body on top of me. I gaze up to meet a stoic face behind dark glasses, their grey hair cropped short compared to the one that took Bethany.

“Stop your struggling, Hawke.” They say monotone. “You’ll find what you need soon. Don’t fight it.”

My vision begins to blur as their grip becomes tighter. A boot slams into their face and shatters their glasses off. They release their grip as they’re knocked to the side. I stumble up and gasp for air, rubbing my sore neck. Varric kicks them again before firing into where their heart would be. He kneels down over their head and takes it into his hand before slamming it repeatedly into the ground. Something cracks open and he digs around with his fingers in their skull.

I look away and lean over, putting my hands on my knees and try to catch my breath. I hear a wire snap and Varric grunt satisfied with whatever he found. I feel sick as a dry heave begins to erupt from my throat. I let it pass and close my eyes to stop the world from spinning.

A hand rubs my back gently. I look up to see Varric holding a slightly bloodied device which one can assume is the Courser’s Chip. I swallow, still breathing heavy and gesture to it.

“Why’s it all bloody?”

Varric stops rubbing my back to wipe the device on his jacket before putting it away.

“The latest gen’s have gotten so human like that most have synthetic blood.” He explains. “It’s actually quite nerve-racking to think about, soon there’ll be no difference between us.”

“Wonderful.”

I straighten back up and look at the corpse. It was true, other than the exposed robotic implants, I would never have known.

“You doing okay?” Varric asks concerned.

I give him a nod and start slowly walking to where we were headed.

Two synths are crouched before their backs to us and shooting away at something. I take my gun and jam it down into the back of one’s neck. The other stops firing to face me, but before it can react I shoot and it’s done. A gunshot lands behind me, followed by a thud. I turn around to see another synth face plant on the ground, a bullet wound smoking on the back of it’s head. Above, on the ship, a glint of bronze flashes and a small figure waves down to us.

“Is that-?”

“Isabela, yes.”, Varric chuckles examining the body.

“Huh, where the fuck was she when I was getting choked out…”, I mutter more to myself than him.

He shrugs and we continue on our way. We arrive at a clearing, blown out by explosions. Synth corpses are scattered across the ground, along with broken chunks of power armor.

Fenris stands breathing raggedly in the center. The left arm and helmet of his power armor is missing, his hair a grey mess partially caked and dripping with blood. A large black mass hits him from the side out of nowhere and he’s slightly pushed to the side. He recovers and swings at the enormous man that hit him. After a few hits he manages to take a hold of the man and throw him towards my direction.

He slams into a shack beside me, crushing it.  Varric and I don’t waste a second before shooting into it. After several rounds, I step towards it and look inside. I let out a screech as the black mass emerges from the rubble and slams into me. Not again. This time the hit sends me about ten feet back and I’m slammed into an approaching Fenris. The hard steel of the power armor cracks my back and I land on my hands and knees. A metal arm wraps around my waist and I feel a hand on my shoulder as I’m lifted onto my feet.

“Damn, you really have shitty luck.”, Fenris whispers to me.

His breath brushes against my cheek and I look at him. I’m meet with a stern gaze. I give him a small smile and let out a shaky laugh that turns into a cough. He releases me so I can cough it out and goes to fight the Courser. I quickly recover and follow him.

Varric has the Courser literally pinned in a corner. The Courser kneels before him, trying to pry the arrows pinning down his feet. Fenris approaches, taking his elbow and jabbing it down into the Courser’s neck causing him to slam to the ground. Before he can continue, I inject myself in the situation and shoot at his head over and over, blowing it to bits. Varric pushes my hands away before I take another shot. I exhale and realize I’m panting. I look away and face my gun down. Fenris is staring, his thick eyebrows raised. He grunts a “hm” before gazing around to see if there’s anymore oncoming threats.

I hear Varric whistle and say, “Shit, you both fucked this one right up.”

He gets up from crouching over the Courser and carries over a smashed chip. He tosses it across the clearing, looking a little annoyed.

“Sorry, we have one intact at least?”, I say apologetic.

Varric shrugs and sighs before going over to one of the broken off pieces of Fenris’ power armor and picking it up.

The gun shots around us have mostly died down. The adrenaline subsiding as we all start digging through the remains of the synths. After Varric decides we’ve picked through enough, we begin to head back to the ship. Varric takes the lead and Fenris paces himself to walk beside me.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks surprisingly with genuine concern.

I kick a nearby decapitated synth head, casually following it like a soccer ball.

“Not really,” I say looking at him and shaking my head. “I woke up to a bomb and you were gone so. Not the best way to greet the day.”

He exhales, “Welcome to the commonwealth.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “Hey.”

He turns his attention to me as I kick over the synth head and gesture for him to continue the game. He does his best with his large metal feet before giving up and pushing it back to me.

I laugh, “Nice.”

I smile to myself thinking about last night and how I was actually able to get close to this tin can.

“You know, I had fun last night.”

Fenris noticeably relaxes and the corners of his mouth pull for a second.

“Yeah, me too.” He says. “You got very handsy though. It was a little strange.”

I hear Varric laugh and I feel my mouth drop open.

“What? Really? I apologize deeply if I made you uncomfortable then. I honestly don’t remember most of last night.”, I scoff. “Geez, that’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t apologize, there was no harm done.” Fenris says with a sly grin. “How much of it do you remember?”

I shrug and feel my cheeks heat up, did we do something more than just drink and smoke? I try to rack my brain for information but come up with nothing.

“Well then, I won't spoil anything.”

My cheeks are burning and exhale, “We didn’t like...

Varric snorts beside him and almost trips as I kick over the synth head. He glares at me before punting the head into a nearby window. Fenris raises his eyebrows at me and then smiles, looking away from me.

“Oh no, nothing like what I assume you’re thinking of.”

I exhale again a little relieved, “Oh alright.”

We walk the rest of the way in silence.

As we approach the Captain’s Cabin a brilliant flash of blue lightning rains down onto the ground and a large black mass forms before us.

The Courser standing before us has the physique of a boulder and long ashy grey hair. The Courser standing in front of us is carrying an enormous sledge hammer. The Courser standing before us is the same bastard that took my Bethany.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: In which someone loses an arm.

There was this one time back in the vault, that a misfortunate group of mole rats burrowed into the Overseers private lavatory. What was even more unfortunate was that poor Sebastian happened to be in there while they tunneled in. Of course he got bit and ran out screaming, asscheeks shining, to his room where I was also there, butt naked. We managed to kill them all by ourselves but I'll always remember that moment being the angriest I've ever been, until now.

I'm the first to take a shot at the enormous Courser just yards before us. And I don't stop, not even as Varric scolds me to take cover. I step my way towards the Courser, each step a shot at his frame. Fenris joins my side and follows my lead.

The Courser stands unaffected, only pushed slightly back by each impact. He looks to his right and spots a bench. He places his hammer aside and picks the bench up.

“Hawke!”,Varric yells at us as a warning.

Fenris pushes me aside and I roll out of the way as the bench is hurled towards us. Quickly getting back on my feet I sprint out of the way as the Courser throws a barrel in my direction. Fenris heads the opposite way and we begin the tedious attempt to corral him to the middle. The Courser picks his hammer back up and strides his way to Fenris, still ignoring the shots at him. Lifting the hammer with just one arm, he swings it at Fenris’ head effortlessly. As Fenris dodges, a glint of metal appears from the Coursers open hand as he slashes at him. Before the knife hits Fenris, an arrow whizzes across and nails the combat knife out of the Coursers hand. He snaps his head towards the direction it came from before realizing his mistake as Fenris takes the opportunity to hit him with a punch that lands with a resounding echo of hard metal against flesh.

I take the opportunity to gain better ground. As I pass the entrance to the bar, I hear a shatter of glass followed by a series of whispered “shits”. A small figure scurries out and takes cover behind a row of junk and boxes before me.

“Jowan?”, I exclaim.

The horrified synth looks up at me with wide eyes clutching the enormous axe that had been hanging above Isabela’s chair.

He gives me a meek smile and sputters, “Oh-h Hawke, I was just on my way out. You know, just trying to avoid that hell sent monster you summoned.”

“What, how? You still think I’m the bad guy? Dude, come on.”

Jowan’s eyes are looking frantically around for an escape, his voice going shrill, “Oh, you know nothing, didn’t they tell you that you, you Hawke’s created-”

He screeches as the wall of junk crashes down on him as someone slams into it. I snap to see who threw them and unfortunately it’s not who I wanted. Fenris groans in the pile, his suit groaning with him as he attempts to get back up. I go to him to access the damage, his chest piece was cracked and caved in, his face even more bloodied than before.

“You ok?”, I ask with sincere concern.

Fenris chuckles and coughs, “Fuck off.”

I smile at him and pat his damaged suit. I get up and rummage through the knocked over boxes looking for that goddamn synth. I find his crushed remains; he’d awkwardly landed on the axe, the weight of the junk pushed him further into the blade. I click my tongue before picking up the axe and prying it out of his chest. I weigh it in my hands and decide it’s good enough. I turn to bound down the steps and toward the Courser.

He’s casually striding his way towards Varric, who had emerged from his hiding place to shoot him straight on. He hasn’t noticed me as I approach from behind and swing down at his legs. My attempt was to slash his heels but the axe buries itself to deep into his trunk of a leg and remains there. I manage to pull out as he swings around with his hammer and dive away. I get up with the axe raised as I brace for impact as the hammer slams down onto me. My arms barely hold as it hits, I grit my teeth from the strain.

The Courser out of nowhere takes a step back and yanks the hammer which pulls the axe with it and I’m yanked down to the ground face first. As I get up, he kicks me square in the ribs and I’m airborne for a second. I land with crack and writhe on the ground in pain. I look up to see an arrow land on the Coursers raised arm, a little red light flashing. I recognize what will happen next, rolling over, covering my head with my arms.

The arrow goes off and the shock wave rolls over me. I look up again through my arms to see an intact Courser glaring at the new crater in his arm.

“Well, shit.”, I hear Varric exhale before reloading Bianca.

I scramble to my feet, grabbing the axe and take the opportunity to cut off the rest of his arm. Not even a gasp, the Courser just stares at me with cold red eyes. I swing at him again but he catches the axe with his free hand and then proceeds to headbutt me. The impact feels like a train ramming into my skull and I’m knocked back to ground. My vision clouds as I hear another arrow land followed by another explosion. I struggle to regain control of my body and begin to crawl away from the brute.

A flash of brilliant blue lightning lands just yards away from me followed by several others. More synths materialize before us and scan around for information. I freeze and try to remain as still as possible.

The air above us begins to hum and vibrate as something passes overhead. The sound of several engines and the crackle of energy weapons erupts from the entrance of the missile. The synths around me are volleyed with bullets, some landing too close to home.

A strong hand grabs the collar of my jacket and pulls me up, forcing me to run forward. I look down to see Varric in full panic mode, urging me forward.

“Fucking brotherhood." , He curses. "Get to the bar!”

I look back to see two Vertibirds hovering in the entrance, firing at the synths and more importantly us. Several figures jump down from the metal birds, the ground rumbling as they land.

The Courser kneels, his head bowed before he struggles to get back on feet. I watch as he stares at the Vertibirds and then back at us. He bends over to pick up his hammer and then just walks away into an alley.

We get to bar and notice Fenris is missing. Hurrying inside, we find him out of armor sitting in Isabela’s chair beginning to dress his wounds.

I plop down next to him, exhausted, my whole body screaming out in pain. I feel a gentle hand hesitantly touch the open wound on my arm. I hiss at the pain and grit my teeth, flinching away from the touch. Fenris “tch’s” at me in slight frustration.

“Ruined a perfectly good jacket.”, He scolds halfheartedly. “Take it off.”

I do as instructed, slowly, wincing at each new stab of pain coming from different parts of me. He firmly grasps my arm and pours on a liquid that burns like fire. My eyes water as I bite into the side of my free hand to stop from screaming. He hands me what’s left of the alcohol and I gladly accept, downing the rest of it. Still holding my arm, he reaches behind him and grabs a makeshift suture kit. He proceeds stitching the wound with a hauntingly calm demeanor as if he’s done this thousands of times before.

Varric paces the room before reaching over the bar and pulling out a radio transmitter. He flicks it on and it crackles to life.

“Daisy, come in.” , He speaks into the microphone. “Daisy, respond.”

There’s a series of shuffling followed by two voices talking over each other, panicked.

“Varric! Is everyone alright down there?.”, Merrill answers.

Varric glances at the two of us, his lips flatten out to a straight line.

“Yeah, we’re fine. Listen, you need to get the fuck out of here. I’m sure those tin can bastards wont cause us too much trouble but you need to hide.”

“Tin can? Oh no, was that the brotherhood?”, Merrill exhales and there’s feedback from the microphone being dropped.

There’s more shuffling and the mic is picked up. Isabela answers this time, “I’ll take care of her, Varric. Just stay safe… And don’t let them touch the booze!”

Varric clicks the the transmitter off, puts it back behind the bar and rubs his face with a hand.

I feel an uncomfortable tug at my skin and a pinch. I make my discomfort audible but Fenris continues. He closes the wound and then snips off the rest of the thread before wrapping it in a mostly clean rag. I crinkle my nose at the sight. Fenris glares at me through his bangs and pulls the rap tighter causing me to wince.

“Ow, sadist.”, I grumble jokingly.

“You’re welcome.”, He snorts as he turns back to tending to his own wounds.

The gunfire from outside has died down. Varric takes notice and peaks outside before rushing over to us.

“We got company.”, He says trying to appear relatively calm. He takes the Courser chips from the inside of his jacket pocket and kneels down between Fenris and I. He reaches under the couch and places them inside. He stumbles back up to his feet just as a grey power suit strides in, weapon raised and ready.

I hear Fenris cock his gun and point it at them. I frantically look around for something to arm myself with.

“Whoa, whoa.”, Varric projects, his arms up in surrender. “Let’s not get all hasty, we’re all on the same side.”

The suit scoffs and keeps their weapons up. Another suit walks in from behind them and immediately freezes.

“Varric?”, The voice is strong and feminine.

Varric frowns and squints at the suit that just walked in.

"Stand down knight.", The suit orders pushing the others gun down before placing theirs away and begins to remove their own helm. They lift it away to reveal a pale freckled woman, her bright red hair pulled back in a braid. Across her forehead rests a faded red sweatband.

Varric throws his hands up in excitement.

“Aveline!”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: In which someone accidentally shoots a cat.    

“Aveline!”, Varric announces and sighs in relief. He puts a finger to his mouth and then taps it against his lips, smiling at her. “Oh excuse me, Knight Aveline.”

“It’s Paladin now, Varric.”, she corrects him. She looks at the other suit that’d walked in with her and nods at them. They return the nod and start prodding around the bar carelessly knocking over glasses and bottles.

Varric grimaces at each falling glass.

“I take it the Brotherhood has been treating you well then?”, His tone remains light and he returns to smiling at her.

She steps slowly looking around the room, examining each table and crevice.

"You can say that… We’d still be willing to accept you Varric, and treat you just as fair”, She says picking up a bottle of pills from a table. “It’d be a better fit for you than this rat hole.”

Varric scoffs, “Thanks but I think I’ll hang on to my soul.”

She puts the pills back down and glares down at Varric.

“We are not the bad guys, Varric. There are greater threats to the Commonwealth than your misguided fears. You of all people should know better.”, She lectures with a voice that sends a shiver down my spine.

“Says the tyrant.”, Varric mumbles before announcing, “Well! I’m sure you’re dying to meet the other guns pointed at you. Avelin- Paladin, this is Fenris and Hawke. Fenris put that away please and Hawke…. I don’t think that will do much good on power armor.”

I put the broken fork away and shrug. It was worth a shot.

Fenris remains set on defending himself, his expression blank.

“How do you two know each other?”, He asks, skeptical.

Varric and Aveline exchange a knowing glance.

Varric’s chest puffs up proudly as he speaks, “Well a couple years ago during a horrible radiation storm-”

Aveline interrupts, “He saved my life a long time ago and that’s all there is too that tale. I’m still grateful for that, but you don’t need to remind me of the details.”

“What if they wanted to know? It’s one of my favorite stories.” Varric beams up at her and it’s returned with a scowl and an eye roll. Aveline strides closer to us, her eyes still on Varric’s stupid grin.

“I’m sure they can wait. Do you know why we’re here, Varric?”

Varric shrugs and his grin fades away. “To harass the low-lifes?”

Her eyes scan Fenris and I as she speaks. They catch at my chest and focus in on the numbers of my vault suit. “There are rumours floating around the commonwealth that you’ve been harbouring synths.”

“Rumours aren’t normally true, Paladin. Unless you really want to believe that super mutants have evolved two sets of genitalia.”

She whips her head around to glare at him, breaking the staredown between her and my chest.

“Varric, why don’t you just make this easy, for both of our sakes.” Her voice remains strong and unyielding, her plea for his cooperation more as a command.

“What’s the fun in making things easy?” Varric crosses his arms and shifts his weight to one side. “I’ll tell you what, you can send a message to your higher ups to eat my ent-”

There’s a crash from behind the bar followed by a laser shot and a yelp. A grey cat with it’s tail smoking, jumps onto the bar and scrambles down, zooming out the door. The other Brotherhood member runs out and stops, their head turning rapidly before staring at Aveline.

“False alarm Paladin Vallen. It was- it was just a domestic animal.”

Avelines mouth flattens to a straight line in distaste. “Continue your search then.”

They bow their head a bit and head back into the kitchen. Aveline exhales a sigh and turns her judgment back to Varric.

“Did you want to complete your statement?” She asks him, his face bemused and unwavering.

“Entire asshole. Eat it.” Varric also bows his head a bit and I feel a small urge to clap for him.

Aveline rubs her temples in frustration. “I swear, how are you still alive… Varric, I’ll make you a deal since I owe you.”

“Let’s hear it by all means.” He claps his hands together and rubs them.

“I’ll take my troop back to headquarters and report that you’re going to cooperate, you just need a day to get all of the synths together. In the meantime you will do exactly what I just said and gather the synths and whatever tech you have and wait until we come back.”

Varric’s eyes wander down to the floor. He places a hand upon his majestic chin, rubbing it in thought. His mouth curls down into a frown and he raises his brows before releasing his chin and splaying his fingers. He places his hand against his cheek and pats it twice. “And if we don’t do as instructed?”

Aveline smiles softly. “If you don’t and for some reason have disappeared along with the rest of the residents, you will all become an enemy of the Brotherhood and be hunted by us. I intend to report this to Elder Meredith and I’m sure she’ll want to be present when you cooperate tomorrow.”

Varric pats his cheek three more times lightly and lets out a breathy laugh. He mumbles, “Just 24 hours….”

“That should be more than enough time to be ready.”

Varric spreads is arms open before clapping them down to his sides. “Alright, it’s a deal then.”

Fenris scoffs and I feel him slide the gun down between us. My eyebrows shoot up and I look around in confusion at the rest of the people around me.

“Did he just-” I ask before Fenris shoves a hand against my mouth. It’s warm and smells of blood, his calloused palm rub against my lips and I have a strange urge to kiss it. Instead I blow a small raspberry into it and he immediately pulls it away, looking extremely offended.

"Very well.” Aveline says almost mournfully. “I wish you the best of luck Varric”

“Yeah, you as well.” Varric gives her a genuine smile as he watches her start to leave. She goes behind the bar and practically drags the poor Knight out. They finally leave, setting off a silence that grips like a knife.

“Well, shit again.”

____

A fly darts across the table and crawls onto the lip of an empty bottle. It stops to rub it’s tiny legs together. It’s head rotates as it brushes it’s little legs across and back down to the lip. I raise my hand over the bottle, lowering it slowly down. Smacking it down, the bottle is sent flying behind me. It shatters against the wall and I cringe.

Fenris and Merrill stop arguing about the situation and turn their attention to me. Isabela raises her head from behind the bar and cracks a smile at my expression.

I raise my head from it’s resting place on my arm on the table and lift up the hand I smacked the bottle with in defense. “Sorry, continue.”

Everyone grimaces and I turn my hand to face me, the flies guts smeared across my palm. I mouth an “oh” before smearing it on a nearby cloth.

Fenris dives right back into the argument. “It’d be more beneficial for everyone around us to cooperate. No lives would be put in danger and the Hanged Man would be under the protection of the Brotherhood.”

“No lives?” Merrill sputters angrily. “We are talking about over twenty of us being handed over to those monsters! They’d murder us.”

Fenris stands up and places his hands firmly on the table before him. “Twenty abominations over hundreds of real human lives.”

Varric takes another drag off his cigarette before twisting it down into the ashtray sitting on the middle of our table. His chair creaks next to me as he sits back down. I look at him from the side, my head back on my arms on the table.

“Why hasn’t he joined the Brotherhood? He almost sounds as if he admires them.” I whisper to Varric.

He shrugs in reply. “I wonder why as well. Lately it seems like it might become a reality with the way things are headed.”

I lift myself away from the table to a proper sitting position. Varric starts opening up a fresh pack of cigarettes that look suspiciously like the ones I was given from the rest of the vault. Who am I kidding those are definitely mine. He pops one out and offers it to me, I pull two out and set one on the table.

“Fenris has too much pride to become a mindless soldier in the Brotherhood. It’d be by some miracle that they see his talent and accept him into the higher ranks.” He flicks open his red gemmed lighter, the flame illuminating the wrinkles on his face making him seem ancient. I lean over to light mine as well and take a heavy drag.

I exhale and ask, “Shouldn’t we be doing something?”

“I suppose.” He sighs. “We already evacuated most of the synths because of the Courser attack so they’re safe for now. I had Isabela send word to the residents that the Brotherhood was coming again tomorrow and most have some brain to pack up their shit and leave.”

“So there’s really no point to them arguing?”

Varric shakes his head and smiles. “Nope, it’s just fun to watch them bicker like alley cats.”

“Are we planning to leave?”

He glances at me. “Probably not, I wont for sure. This dump has grown on me but you can. There’d be no consequences, you could’ve left earlier before this whole shitstorm actually.”

I scoff, “And miss out on all the fun? Besides you still have to get me into the institute.”

Varrics eyes widen at that. “Oh shit that’s right! I almost forgot about that. You want something to do?”

“Uh, sure?”

He gets up from his chair and drops his cigarette to the floor, stepping on it, he rushes over to Isabella's couch and reaches underneath to grab the Courser chips. Sitting back in his chair he shoves the chips into my hand and pats it.

“I need you to hide these, again. There’s a pile of hazard barrels down an alley to the, I think right of the bar entrance, yeah. There’s a compartment in the far left one, you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

“Hazard barrels?”

“Oh they’re not full or anything, they’re strictly decor.”

I frown and Varric smiles back, patting my face. I exhale and get up, Courser chips in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

I make my way through the still arguing Fenris and Merrill and out into the cold. I trudge my way down the steps and right to the alley.

There’s a single trash can at the end of the alley, filled with flaming garbage, lighting the alley. The flame illuminates the faded yellow hazard barrels next to it. My pace instinctually slows, something doesn’t feel right. And not because of the safety hazard of open flame next to toxic waste barrels but someone’s here with me.

I stop and look around, turning quickly to see if anyone’s behind me. Nothing. My eyes strain in the dark corners, the familiar glow of the bar shines like a beacon. My body screams at me to run back inside and I’m tempted to. Varric would ask me why I still had the chips and I would probably reply that I was too much of a pussy to complete the simple task.

I exhale and turn back around. I regret my choice, a broad looming figure stands in front of the lit trash can. It’s eerie silhouette blocking out most of the light. One of it’s arms is missing and I feel my stomach plummet.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: In which the story takes a hard left turn.

We used to have a couple of cats in the vault. They of course had kittens one year but one out of the three in the litter grew up to be extremely malicious. It would steal open food from the kitchen and wouldn't let anyone pet or touch it. Bethany even tried to tame it once but got bit.

Eventually the old Overseer at the time ordered a “hunt” to capture it and excommunicate it from the vault.

Carver and I were the first to corner it into a vent. I lost the bet on which one of us was to go in and get it.

The cat had gotten stuck in a hole in the vent and was screeching. It clawed and scratched at me as I tried to free it. When it was finally lose enough to get out, it stopped. Little me thought I'd killed the poor thing and lifted it into my arms. It's eyes were dilated, it's body limp. But it was fine.

I carried it out and set it down on the floor. After a couple minutes it got up and left as if nothing happened. For a few days no one saw it and then it was back to it's malevolent self.

It's always odd to me how I recall memories like this in moments of extreme peril. Even more obscure to realize how I've become the cat in this situation.

A silhouette towers in a dark alley only lit by the burning remains of a large wastebin. A silhouette with only one arm. It stands menacingly, in a similar way to the moon blocking the sun in an eclipse. A silhouette blocks all my hopes of security.

Should I sprint? Should I run to the one place that offers security and protection? Probably. But neither of us move. Locked in like a man staring at the sun.

I ease into a step back before turning around and booking it. I feel like I can almost make it before a barrel slams into my back and I'm face down in filth. Clawing the dirt, I scramble to my feet. Another object hits the square of my back and I'm on the ground again. A hand grips into my jacket and I can feel it's fingers claw into my suit. My breath pushes out of my body as I'm slammed against a shack wall.

The Coursers one arm pins me there against my neck. Gasping for air, I claw and kick. I manage a cry for help before he slams me against the wall.

My conscious begins to fade as black spots crowd my vision. As I fade away I'm immersed in a brilliant blue light. I feel the air vibrate around me and then black.

_____

It’s cold. The air feels different around me almost lighter, no warm weight of radiation. My body lies stiff on a soft bed and I feel a light breeze float through a light sheet covering me. My head feels fuzzy and clouded with drugs. Maybe this is heaven.  

A sharp male voice pierces into my conscious, it’s hushed tone altered as if speaking through glass.

“I knew we shouldn’t have sent the Arishok. Any of the other Coursers would’ve been fine and certainly wouldn’t have done so much damage.”

A woman speaks softly, “We did send other Coursers, none of them survived.”

The male sighs, “This whole situation is a mess.”

“It’s what Father wanted, you know that.”, the woman says reassuringly.

“I suppose. He knew what was best for all of us… How long have they been resting?”

Papers are flicked through and shuffled, the woman answers, “It’s only been a day, the surgeons say they need at least a week's rest before we can assimilate them.”

The male scoffs, “Assimilate, with that amount of liabilities this one has cost us we shouldn’t even consider it. We only really need one.”

“Father insisted on all of them, or at least the twins.”

A door slides open and a new body walks in. Their steps are soft and hesitant.

“Doctor Orsino.” Their tone is overly forced to be polite.

“Anders.” The male voice snaps back, who I can assume is Doctor Orsino. “Can we help you with something?”

“You wanted me to notify you when the test results were finished.”, Anders replies.

“Oh right, of course. Doctor would you like to accompany me?”

The woman shuffles her papers again before replying, “Certainly, after you.”

The door slides open again and two sets of footsteps leave. Anders groans before making a disgusted noise. He shuffles closer and taps away at a keyboard. Something hisses open and another breeze of cold air washes over me.

“Alright, let’s see if I can wake the sleeping beauty.”, Anders whispers to himself and chuckles lightly.

I feel his presence above my head and I fight the urge to open my eyes and look. Steady fingers move across my cheek and gently turn my head to face up. He presses a thumb below my eye and spreads it open with his forefinger. A light blares across it and I hear him chuckle again.

"You’re already awake, you prick.” He shuts the tiny flashlight off and lightly pats my face.

I scrunch my eyes closed before hesitantly opening them. I’m greeted with the comforting glow of artificial fluorescent light and him. He perches next to me on the bed causing it to sink down a bit.

He places the little light in his bright white lab coat and his golden brown eyes look down at me through dark rimmed glasses.  

I begin to prop myself up but I’m greeted with a shot of pain through my skull and I cringe back down.

“Yeah slow down there, you have a couple concussions and whole bunch of other fun stuff.”, He says lightly with a smile.

I raise my hand up to rub my temples but get caught halfway. I look to see what my arm is caught on and catch the glint of metal handcuffs.

“Shit.”, I breath out and look to Anders for assistance.

He shrugs and gets up off the bed, walking behind me. “Sorry about those, a safety precaution that wasn’t my choice. Also technically I’m not supposed to be in here. So can’t help you there.”

He shuffles bottles around and something falls with a clang. “Oops, where’d you come from.”

I look around the tiny room, I’m surrounded by glass walls, an observation room no doubt. Outside the glass surrounding me is a lab, empty of people.

“Where,” My voice comes out rough, I clear my throat. “Where am I?”

“Oh what, they gave you the good stuff.” Anders announces excitedly ignoring my question. He sits back down on the bed, shoving a pill bottle in a pocket and looking at another in his hand.

“Hey!” I rasp at him. He jumps a bit as if he forgot I was in the room.

“Maker, what?” He puts the bottle down, still holding it and looks at me questionably.

“Where the fuck am I? And who even are you?”

I squint at him in frustration, unable to move my arms in exasperation. He turns back to reading his pill bottle.

“Who am I…” He chuckles. “I’m the one you talked to with our mutual friend over the radio.”

"That was you? You know Var-”

He clamps a hand over my mouth and shushes me. His golden stare bores down into mine and he whispers sternly, “Don’t speak their names in here. You don’t know me and you certainly don’t know them, especially in here. Got it?”

I nod and he removes his hand gingerly.

“Good. I had such a good plan on getting you in here by the way. Only you had to fuck it up and get your ass beat.” He sighs. “Which I guess is fine since you landed in here anyways.”

“Here? You mean the Institute right?”

“Yes, welcome to hell.” He says finally looking at me. “I guess I should introduce myself and yes I already know who you are, in fact the whole pit knows who you are, you special child. I’m Anders.”

“Just Anders?”

He makes a face. “Yes? Or Doctor Anders if you want to be formal.”

“Ah, Doctor. What are they planning to do with me? I heard the other guy talk about the twins and a Father.”

Anders darts his eyes away and his expression fades. He stays quiet for what feels like an eternity, contemplating something.

He opens his mouth and then closes it. He turns back to me and tells me softly, “Next time, when you wake up fully rested. It’s better to take in information on a stable mind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes the bottle of pills he was holding and opens it. He pops two into his hand and reaches over my head for a glass of water.

“Here these should put you back to sleep and get rid of the pain. I’ve kept you up long enough anyway.” He tells me and gently lifts my head, popping the pills in my mouth and putting the glass to my lips leaving my little choice but to drink them down. “Get some rest and the next time you see me I promise I’ll answer all your questions.”

My mind begins to cloud again and my vision blurs.

“You’re about to face something even I wouldn’t be prepared for.” I hear him say softly before I close my eyes. “Sweet dreams, Hawke.”

____

My consciousness fades in and out, in what feels like weeks. I hear a lot of Doctor Orsino’s voice along with that woman. Anders comes by every once in awhile to check up on me but I never fully wake. Everything feels blurry and out of touch, it’s a bad drug trip I wasn’t up for. At one point I’m put under bright lights and several people stand around me placing an oxygen mask against my face. A surgery perhaps, I can’t tell anymore. This time I’m fully awake and my body is screaming in pain.

I gasp at the sudden exposure of it and try to lurch up before getting caught by my arm attached to the handcuffs. My breath quickens and I feel anxiety and panic ball up deep in my stomach. I search the room, hoping to see someone and I begin to scream for help.

The door slides open and Anders walks in staring down at a clipboard. He looks up to see me and drops it in panic. He rushes to get the door open and almost stumbles to get to my side. Brushing the hair from my face, he tries to soothe me back down to the bed.

It causes me to panic more and I clasp onto his arms with my hands, pulling him slightly in.

“Hawke, I need you to focus. Breath in.” He places a firm hand on my cheek and locks eyes with me, his tone steady and his expression secure. “Breath in, Hawke.”

I take a shaky breath in, panic still swelling inside.

“Good, now out.”

I do as instructed and try to look away from him. He jerks his hand slightly to hold my gaze and asks me to breath in again. We do this several more times before he takes a seat in front of me. He’s so close, I feel the warmth radiating off of him and lean in closer. My grip loosens on his arms and some part of me wraps them around his body. He’s the one that pulls me in and holds me there as I sob the last of my breaths.

“You’re okay…. It’ll be okay.” His voice is steady and calm. We stay that way for almost an hour before he releases and goes to the table behind my bed.

I hear him pour a glass of water and open a bottle of pills. He sits back down with two pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. I take the glass of water and drink, ignoring the pills. He urges the pills into my free hand.

I look up to him and shake my head. “Please, don’t make me go under again.”

His eyes search mine, he looks at me, torn. “Just one more time. That was the last surgery, you’re almost done. I promise.”

“What was it for?”, I ask.

“The surgery?” He wets his lips before taking a breath. “You had some shrapnel in your arm just some cosmetic stuff nothing too serious.”

I frown at him and mouth an “oh”. I look down into my hand at the two pills. Disgust rests in my gut but part of me knows I’ll feel better placing these two in my mouth and swallowing. Defeatedly, I take them and lay back down onto the bed.

I feel his fingers brush over my forehead and down my cheek, staying there. I place a hand over his, over the only human contact I have. The only thing currently keeping me sane.

________

The next time I wake up the pain is more or less gone, soreness kicking in instead. I feel exhausted, the life drained from my husk of a body.

Someone’s yelling outside my door. Someone’s really angry.

There’s a thud against the door and it slides open. Doctor Orsino backs in, his hands up in defense. He’s fumbling for words as if trying to calm the person that pushed him in. It’s a woman that’s yelling at him, a beautiful dark haired woman. I smile and realize who it is.

“Bethany.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: In which I have to do simple math

“Miss Hawke!”, Doctor Orsino exclaims stumbling as he’s shoved back, slamming against the glass. “This is a huge misunderstanding. If you’d just let us explain-”

Bethany throws him an icy glare that shuts him up. Her voice is so venomous that it actually makes me feel sorry for poor Orsino.

“You talk about trust being a two way street and then I find out you’ve been keeping me from my sibling from me this whole time! Open the fucking door!”

Orsino turns around clumsily to the keypad and does as told. The glass door slides open and she rushes to my bed side. I attempt to sit up before she wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a suffocating embrace. I return the embrace, her grip tightens and I pat her for air.

“I’m so sorry, Marian.” Her voice wavers. “I didn’t know they were keeping you here. I’m so so so sorry.”

I pat her more rapidly becoming more desperate for air. This choking thing is becoming a bad habit. She finally releases with an “oh” and I gasp a bit for air.

I let out a light laugh, “It’s fine, I’m fine. What’s important is that you’re okay.”

Bethany looks at me searching, placing a hand against my cheek and brushing away the stray hairs from my face.

“What did I do to deserve such a caring sibling…” She replies softly with a small smile. “I’m fine as well.”

“They didn’t hurt you? Or drug you and perform surgeries you know nothing about…” I glare at Orsino who has receded into a corner, watching us skeptically.

“They did what? What surgeries?” Her voice rises becoming angry again as she turns to glare at Orsino.

His eyes widen from the sudden attention. He approaches the glass cautiously.

“Nothing too serious. We realigned some broken ribs and patched some open wounds. I can have the full reports delivered to your quarters, ma’am.”

“Why don’t you bring them to me now.” Bethany evenly commands.

Orsino hesitates, taken aback from the sudden command. “Um, of course.”

He heads out the door, it opens revealing a small crowd listening in. They all look shocked and some scatter, leaving the scene. I spot Anders glancing in as the door slides shut. I turn my attention back to Bethany and raise an eyebrow at her.

She sighs and takes the hand from my cheek to rub her temples. “It’s a long story.”

She notices the handcuffs and fumbles around in her pockets before pulling out a key. Finally my hand is released and I rub the imprint of the cuff. Rolling up the sleeve slightly, I spot a deeper imprint of my missing pipboy. I grumble annoyed, my whole life and all of my connections are on that thing.

I prop myself up against a pillow and continue to raise an eyebrow at Bethany, questioningly.

“Do you… Do you remember what father was like?” She stops rubbing her forehead and places her hands together in her lap.

I exhale, “A little bit. It felt like he always needed to be elsewhere. But when he was around he made time to teach me something new.”, I scoff remembering those hours. “You and Carver were probably only four when he officially left for good... Why do you ask now?”

“Do you think it’s possible that he made us move to vault for our safety? That maybe he was involved in something bigger and more dangerous than we could handle as kids at the time.” She says softly looking at me as if I knew. She shakes her head, her curls bouncing from side to side. “Do you remember where we lived before the vault?”

I try to recall what she’s asking. Only flashes of my parents holding me as a baby come up and of course the fateful day of entering the vault for the first time. I look away from her becoming more frustrated recalling nothing from before the vault. It’s not unusual to miss memories from when I was a baby but it just feels empty… so white and clean. And then it comes to me, something I’d repressed for so long.

I scoff, “No, all I can remember is a fight that mom and dad had while she was pregnant with you two. And we were definitely not in the vault, it was too clean…”

“Clean enough to be here, the Institute.” Bethany finishes my thought. “Hawke, we used to live here. We used to be apart of the Institute. Hell, we were even born here.”

I look at her questioningly. “No…”

“Yes, believe it. I even have the files recording our births.”

I scowl at her. “Why would they let us leave?”

She takes her hand and places it upon mine. “Because Father was the current director. He could’ve done anything he wanted.”

I look away from her trying to process everything.

“When Carver and I were born there was some conflict between him and few of the other head Doctors on where the Institute should keep their focus. Father was afraid that our lives would be endangered if we stayed. He said he felt it was best to grow up in a more open environment.”

“That doesn’t make any sense…. Wait. He said? He told you this?” I snap to her, raising my voice at the thought that he could still be alive. This whole time, hiding from us. My stomach drops at the realization of betrayal. I accepted he had abandoned us but knowing why twisted an old rusted knife in my gut.

“I’m sorry, if I knew you were here I would’ve gotten you immediately.” Her voice lowers.

“He had cancer, terminal. They did all they could.”

“How long ago?”

“Last week.” She exhales. “The weeks before he passed he told me so much. About mother, about the Institute. It’s absolutely fascinating what he’s done.”

My eyebrows clench together. Weeks before… only weeks.

“When did they bring you here?” I ask, changing the subject. Hearing the fact that he was alive talking to Bethany without me and the others twisted the knife even more.

“Almost a month ago… When did you leave to search for me?” Realization spreads across her features before contorting into anger.

“The morning after you were taken.” I take her hand on top of mine and grip it tight. “Bethany, we can’t stay here. They’ve clearly been lying to you. Let’s go home and leave this mess behind.”

She grips back and lowers her head to look at our hands. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I… I kind of promised Father I’d stay and train to become the new Director.” She says sheepishly.

“They’d let an outsider control this place?” I scoff.

“Well, no. I mean yes, in a way. They’ve been monitoring us.” She watches my reaction, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Mostly Father, watching which one of us would be best to fulfill the position.”

My jaw drops. “That motherfucker. What are we some science experiment? Son of a bitch…”

I close my mouth and swallow down that expanding feeling of disgust in my gut. Bethany twists the hand I'm holding and laces her fingers in mine. She always does this the rare times we fight as if to keep me tethered to her.

“Hawke, we can't just leave. They're doing something bigger than us here. Working to ensure that humanity survives.” She bites her at her lip nervously, searching for the right words. “What Father did was unjust to us, sure. But think of what we could achieve here. It's far better than rotting away in the vault.”

I grumble agreeably at that last statement. I raise my voice in hopes that she'll really hear what I have to say, “You would abandon Mom and Carver…”

Her eyes flitter around evasively for a second. She exhales, “No, not entirely. We can still watch them.”

I groan and unlock my hand away from hers. Her eyes widen and her pitch rises in retaliation, “But eventually, once I've gained their trust and become Director I can move them back here. And we can live together as a family.”

“That sounds like a ways off, Bethany.”

“Well, I-”

The door opens again, no one's standing outside anymore as Orsino and Anders walk in. Anders holds a set of white clothing under his arm. They both walk in the glass room, Orsino handing a large folder to Bethany.

He clears his throat as she takes it from him without a word.

“Ma’am, can I have a word with you.”

Bethany replies without looking up at him, “Of course. What is it?”

“I was hoping to speak with you in private.”

She looks fully up at him, her expression cold. She side glances Anders who gives her a small smile.

She shifts her attention to Anders, ignoring Orsino.

“What are you doing here?”

“I'm here to assist Hawke in their rehabilitation, you see I've been assigned as their nurse.” Anders explains with a smile.

“Yes, unfortunately…” Orsino says dragging out the last syllables. “Now, Beth- Ma’am if I could just have a word.”

Bethany looks at me, worried. I roll my eyes at her and tilt my head towards him.

“I'll be fine. It's not like I can go anywhere.”

She gives me a tentative smile before getting up and following Orsino outside the room.

“Well then! What an interesting turn of events.” Anders says as he puts down the set of clothes on my bed. “These are for you.”

I unravel a plain white t-shirt with a small orange emblem of a splayed human. Anders wanders back behind me and this time I can actually turn around and see what he’s doing. A small table rests behind my bed, stocked with unopened needles and bottles of medicine. Anders picks up an empty drinking glass from the second row of the table and cracks open a can of water.

“You promised me you’d explain this mess the next time you see me.” I grumble, turning back around and taking off the hospital gown.

“Well I guess I lucked out on that opportunity.” Anders says softly. He pours the can into the glass and takes a sip. “Luckily, it looks like someone just happened to notify your sister that you were alive.”

I shift my body around to the side and dangle my legs down to the floor, standing finally. I stumble back a step, Anders takes notice and wraps an around my bare side. He settles me back onto the bed and places the can in my hand.

“What’s your game Anders?”, I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

His eyes flit up to meet my gaze, he gives me a crooked smile.

“I didn’t realize we were playing one. You should take life more seriously, Hawke.”

I feel my eyebrow twitch in annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell her I was here before? Why did you wait until now?”, I ask him growing impatient.

Anders looks away and takes another sip of water from the glass, his pointer finger twitching up slightly.

“You were both odd factors, I couldn’t rely on what she might’ve done if she knew.” He pauses, opening his mouth and closing it slightly, deciding to continue. “I couldn’t take that risk and lose an opportunity to leave.”

My breath hitches and a new knife twists my gut.

“Really?”, I almost whisper.

He answers hesitantly, “That sounds selfish, but you haven’t experienced the Institute and it’s lies.”

“It seems I’ve already gotten a taste of it.”, I mumble through the white shirt that I pull on.  

He scoffs, “Well your dear Father kept you away from the worst of it.”

“Ah yes, bless his rotting corpse for that.”

I flatten the shirt out across my chest and catch his stare. He holds it with half lidded eyes before glancing away and taking another drink. I stand trying not to think about it and start putting on the pants.

“What do you plan to do?”, I hear him ask. I look at him surprised for being so direct for once.

I straighten up pulling the pants with me and tie the drawstring. I blow air out of my mouth, aiming towards the hair that flied in.

“Convince Bethany to leave. Shouldn't be to hard right?”, I say placing my hands on my hips, trying to keep my balance and stay standing.

Anders “hm’s”, drilling his fingers across his glass. His eyebrows knit together in thought.

“And taking me with you as well. Yes?”, He asks hesitant.

“I suppose so. If you're willing to help. Just…”, I pause and lick my lips, biting at a piece of dried skin. “No more lies.”

He shakes his head in agreement. “Absolutely.”

“Or else, this help you help me thing, is over. Got it?”

He shoves out a hand and beams up at me. “Yes, ser.”

I take it and give it a hearty Varric Tethras approved shake.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: In which their tongues battled for dominance.

“You’re not seriously considering staying?”, Anders huffs. “Have you even been listening to me?”

I look at him across the cafeteria table and raise my eyebrows, exaggerating my shrug. Anders looks at me exasperated, searching my face for clues that I’m being serious.

“Look, Anders, it’s been almost two weeks and Bethany isn’t budging. I can’t leave without her, it’s not like I have a choice.”, I explain, taking the plastic cup of water from the table and putting it against my lips.

Anders rolls his eyes and groans, “You always have a choice. Drag her out if you have to.”

“She’d love that.”, I chuckles. “Who knows, maybe she’ll make some changes as the new Director.”

He shakes his head disagreeably, causing some hairs to fly down from the half pony tail.

“You can’t fix a system that's been broken for centuries. Her title as Director is just that, a title. From what I’ve heard, it’s mostly to keep the scientists that were loyal to your father happy. The older Doctors would never let a young outsider have so much power.”

I frown at him, mostly at the stray hairs caressing his face.

“But eventually she’ll have some influence...”

Anders gives me a weak smile, pushing most of the stray hairs behind his ear.

“Yeah, in ten years when they’ve finally brainwashed her into thinking what they do here is just.”

A few strands of hair fall back to the side of his face, I feel an eyebrow twitch in annoyance. He taps his plastic fork down onto the edge of his dinner tray and notices my glare.

“What? It’s the truth.”

I reach over the table and move the rest of the fallen stray hairs away from his face.

“You missed a few.” I tell him softly.

His pale freckled skin flushes and he bats my hand away gently. He rolls his eyes and undoes the small ponytail, his gold locks framing his face for just a second causing my heart to skip a beat before he pulls half of it back, redoing it.

“Getting real handsy there Hawke.” He says giving me a crooked smile. “Didn’t your mother teach you to ask a lady first before you touch their hair.”

In the couple weeks I’ve been here I’ve only really been around him and Bethany. I won't lie it gets lonely. And the temptation for companionship is there, sitting in front of me, looking up at me through his lashes as he ties back his hair.

He looks back down as he finishes it and resumes eating his “food” supplement. I watch as uses the tip of his tongue to lick a piece of food off his lips and quickly forget what we were just talking about.

“I understand that you need her to leave but the longer you stay the harder it’ll be to get out.” He starts explaining for the thousandth time. “And with our contact on the outside missing-”

“You still haven’t heard from them?”, I ask, taking a bite of the supplement that’s supposed to taste like bread, which is more dried ground flour than anything similar to bread.

“No, unfortunately.” He sighs. “We really shouldn’t talk about it here. Actually, did I tell you Doctor Surana stole some of my patient notes yesterday?”

“Wow, really?”, I try to sound interested.

“Yes! Why on earth would she want those? I’m barely staying out of trouble, it’s as if she’s trying to push me over the edge.” Anders continues to complain. It can be endearing, listening to him drag on and on about something. But as he continues talking I begin to space out, staring into those beautiful golden brown eyes. Watching as he adjusts his hair again, pulling a strand behind his ear, an eyebrow raising along with the movement.

A flash of auburn hair catches my attention behind him. It's a woman dressed in a synth uniform, walking towards the cafeteria. A doctor stops her to ask her something. Something about her feels familiar, maybe it's the long elegant nose and dusty brown skin.

Anders snaps his fingers bringing my gaze back to him.

“It was just like that!”, He says continuing explaining something.

“Who's that?”, I ask tilting my head towards her direction.

Anders looks at me slightly offended before turning around to see who.

“Which one?”

“The red head.”

Anders turns back to me and frowns.

“You're into red heads?”

“What? No, that's not why I'm asking. She just looks very familiar…”

Anders scoffs, “Sure. She's one of the commissaries synths.”

“Huh. Is it possible for synths to be… related?”

Anders squints at me, skeptical.

“They're all technically related in a strange ‘created the same way’ ideal. But some are more similar to others.”

We watch as the doctor dismisses her and walks towards us. She walks past us, expression blank. For a second, she makes eye contact with me, her gaze piercing through me with soft green eyes.

“Holy shit.” I whisper mostly to myself. I snap back to Anders who looks at me more confused than before.

“Ho-ly Shit.” I repeat again out loud.

“Holy shit, what?”, Anders asks as he takes his fork and plunges it into the gelatinous mess on his tray.

“I just realized one of the biggest synth haters I’ve ever met might be a synth himself.”, I scoff and put my utensils down to run a hand through my hair. I stop halfway and hold, placing my elbow on the table and resting it there.

Anders shrugs.

“Sucks for him.”

I look over my shoulder after her.

“It really does.”

I turn around to Anders giving me that half-lidded stare that’s grown to drive me insane in so many ways. He gives me a half smile as he slides out of his seat and carries his tray to the counter. He comes back and lightly hits my shoulder with the back of his hand, tilting his head to follow him.

“It’s time I show you something.”

I get up leaving my tray and chuckle, “Anders, as great as it sounds, I don’t really want to see your collection of cat posters.”

“What cat- Oh, hey now.”, He says smiling. “Maker I wish I had one. No, it’s something far less exciting than that.”

We head out into the main atrium, around the towering glass elevator towards Bioscience. I look far up above the Directors quarters in hope of spotting Bethany. I spot her on the veranda talking to two other doctors, Orsino included. She looks upset, I should check on her later. Though I doubt I’ll get a clear answer, she’s becoming as secretive as everyone else in this goddamn place. 

We arrive at Bioscience and head inside, Anders places a hand gently on my arm and pushes me towards the storage rooms. He walks in front of me as we weave through the halls until we arrive at an older looking door. It’s so out of place yet it’s hidden in the back of the storage room by shelves and metal storage containers. Anders takes a look around before taking out a key from inside his shirt. The old door creaks open revealing an even older looking room.

The room is a time capsule of old tech and decaying seats. Resting on a counter sits a transmitter similar to the ones in the Hanged Man.

Anders closes the door behind me and locks it.

“This takes me back.”, I say nostalgically.

Anders takes a seat in front of the transmitter, looking over his shoulder and frowning at me.

“You’re not that old.”

I smile at him and chuckle, “I mean it reminds me of the vault. All the old tech and rusted walls. What is this anyway?”

Anders returns a small smile.

“It’s what’s left of the old Institute. Well actually, through that door is what’s left of the old Institute.”

He gestures to a metal door blocked by metal shelves filled with various junk.

“I found it trying to find a physical way out. Notice no cameras. I checked about a hundred times to be sure. It makes a great place to get away from everyone.”

I press my lips together and nod at him approvingly. I make my way towards him, standing to the left of him and leaning my hip against the side of his chair.

There’s a terminal embedded amongst the tech, the terminal strangely dust free.

Anders taps the screen noticing my attention towards it.

“This is in direct contact with Merrill's Pipboy. Gives her access to practically the entire Institute.”

“Can we talk to her now?”

He shakes his head, “No, after that attack she declared radio silence and she hasn’t lifted it yet. Besides we have set hours for open contact.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence the screen flickers on, displaying text reading; new message. I look at Anders, both our eyebrows raised in shock. He nudges me off the chair and slides it to the front of the terminal. He opens the message, the text glows a bright piercing blue:

[A.

What are your plans with the Hawke? Do not let them distract you from our true purpose. Be sure to prepare the current package for transport.

Justice.]

“Ah shit.”, Anders huffs. He drums his fingers across the counter, hesitant.

“Is that Merrill?” I ask leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the screen. “Justice?”

“You’re, um, actually not supposed to see this yet.”

I glare at him, telling him sternly, “We agreed no more secrets.”

“Well what if it’s an existing secret with another person that you swore to keep from anyone?”, He asks his voice going lower and meeker.

I stare at the glowing text debating if I’ll let him get away with it.

“I’m showing it to you now, so technically it’s within the agreement.”

“I guess… So who are they?” I ask more as a command.

Anders leans back in chair, folding his arms across his chest and takes a breath before huffing it out.

“Justice is someone, most likely a synth I’m not sure, who’s been helping me.”

He rotates the chair in a circle using his feet for movement.

“Helping me assist synths escape.”

I place a hand firmly on the back of his chair, stopping him from doing another rotation.

“What do you mean escape? You’ve had a way to get out this whole time?”

“No! I only talk and help prepare the synths before they leave. I don’t even know who Justice is. All I see from him is the messages.”, He scoffs, “You don’t think I’ve asked him if he’d help me?”

“Well…Why won’t he help you then?”

“Because I’m too much of an asset here. He constantly reminds me that without my help the synths we release would be helpless. Which I understand is a good cause.” He sighs before uncrossing his arms and slowly rubbing his face in his hands.

He pushes them up into his hair before collapsing them into his lap. He looks up at me, lost and frustrated. A small voice in my head whispers to lean down and place a hand on his cheek to pull him into a kiss. But I don’t, why on earth would I.

“He promised me that he’d help me get out when we’ve helped all those who need it. That was four years ago.They’ll never stop making synths and I’ll probably spend the rest of my life freeing them.” He laughs halfheartedly. “I’m tired, Hawke. I just want to go home.”

I pull up a chair behind me and sit close to him, our knees touching each other thighs.

“Me too.”

I chuckle thinking about how shitty the Commonwealth really is.

“But you do know it’s a shit storm out there? Should I retell the story about the giant-ass chameleon that almost ripped off my arm?”

He laughs at that. “Maybe later.”

His expression fades, looking away from me.

“But anything’s better than here. I’d rather be free getting chased by irradiated iguanas than waking up everyday to face this place.”

“It doesn’t seem that bad.”, I say partially joking.

Anders snaps up to me, anger and shock spreading across his features. They fade into a smile as he notices the cocky grin spreading across my face. He gifts me a swift punch on the arm.

I laugh, “Ouch. Okay, I deserved that.”

“You’re an asshole.”

He drops the hand he hit me with, onto my thigh. I don’t think he notices, but he proves me wrong by leaning a little closer to me. He scans my face looking for an incentive to come closer. I smile at him before leaning closer to him and take the chance. The chance to cup his jaw with my palm and pull him in close.

I hesitate for a millisecond, he feels it and takes the opportunity to complete the action. Our lips collide awkwardly for just a second before we catch each other's rhythm. Melding together, both of us letting the pent up tension flow between us. I stop not wanting to rush and pull away from his lips with a small satisfying smack.

We stare at each other for just a second before bursting out in laughter. I pull him back in for another kiss before resting our foreheads together.

“What took you so long?”, He asks breathlessly.

I chuckle, “Well, you were an odd factor and I couldn’t rely-”

Anders groans and hits my arm lightly again. “Fuck off.”

“Alright, bye.” I tell him jokingly and begin to get up from my seat. I hear him gasp and I sit back down, leaning right back into another kiss.

He bites my lower lip, testing, and I fight back the sudden moan. I return the hand to his jaw, caressing it before sliding my hand into his soft hair. I feel his hand back on my thigh, gripping it pleasantly tight. He slides it further up, I take the incentive to stop and climb into his lap. Straddling him to the chair, he leans back and smiles crookedly up at me.

I lean forward, rising up so my chest is eye level with his long nose and reach behind to undo his hair tie. I settle back down into his lap and watch his hair cascade down, framing his face.

He takes both hands to push both sides behind his ears and out of his face. He doesn’t do a good job, I take a side to push back and leave my hand there. I pull it back gently causing his head to tilt into my arm. He looks up at me as he plants a kiss on my inner arm, sending a spark through my body driving me almost feral. I lean down to meet his lips, sucking hard at his bottom lip. I earn a moan and smile at my reward. I feel his hands snake around my hips gripping down before wandering across my back.

We’re interrupted by two intrusive voices from outside the door. Anders freezes up and pulls away. I begin to complain but he places a finger on my lips, shaking his head. He motions for me to get up and I reluctantly comply. We ease our way to the door, standing across from each other and listen.

The voices are arguing, their words clashing together but one sentence rings clear;

“Hawke must die.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: In which Hawke faces the inevitability of death.

Do you ever regret getting up in the morning? Do you ever just want to climb back into bed and forget the fact that you overheard someone talking about killing you and your sister in nauseating detail? No? Lucky you.

But hey guess what, I'm fine with it, that's life. Sometimes people want to “accidentally” lock you up in a nuclear generator until your bones are fried away and nothing remains.

I slide down the door frame, hitting the floor with a thud and sit in disbelief. Nausea settling deep in my gut. My eyes wander up to Anders and get caught on the bulge in his white slacks. I mentally give myself a high five before quickly looking up at his face. He's staring at the door, his expression blank, lost in thought.

I lean my head back against the frame, staring at the crusted ceiling and listen.

“Petrice… That's barbaric.”, The voice is quiet but I could recognize Orsinos anywhere. 

“It’s what’s necessary our survival.” Another voice snarls, who I can assume is Petrice. “Neither of them can contribute to the future of the Institute. They are more likely to destroy it. Or might I remind you of the older one who helped destroyed several of our best Coursers.”

An older voice interjects, ‘calming’ the tension between the others. “Petrice is correct but it’s unnecessary to resort to such an extreme.”

They pause, calculating.

“Reasonably, the best way to deal with the older one is to erase all memory of this place. Sending them back to the vault to live their life out quietly with the others.”,They say, their voice hauntingly even. “Bethany is more complex and as Orsino has reported, she’s shown potential. Let’s test her then.”

There’s a murmur of agreement amongst the group including some voices that haven’t spoken up.

“Do you think that’s wise letting her decide the fate of her sibling?”, Petrice asks.

“If she truly wants to become one of us she’ll have too. Set the gears in motion, doctor.”

They shuffle away leaving us with only the the blow of air through the vents as ambiance.   Whatever mood we were in before has dissipated. The realization of what will happen settles, along with an urge to vomit. I curl my legs to my chest resting my face between them.

I feel Anders sit down next to me and I place my head on his shoulder. He takes the incentive to place an arm around me.

“On the bright side they're letting you leave.” Anders whispers and chuckles halfheartedly.

I turn my face into his bony shoulder and huff, breathing him in. What have I gotten myself into. Actually, what has Bethany gotten me into.

After what seems like an eternity of silence, Anders stirs and stands up.

“We should go.” He says in a calm voice before heading over to the terminal. I go to join him and watch as he types out a reply to Justice.

“So what are your intentions with me?”, I ask remembering Justice’s cryptic message.

He stops typing and twists around to look at me.

“That's between Justice and I.”

He grins cockily, earning a groan from me. He begins turning everything off and we take our leave. We walk a little closer to each other this time, our shoulders bumping together.

We arrive at the main atrium and take a seat on one of the built in benches by the water feature. It's quiet except for the chatter of doctors and the flow of water running through the atrium.

“How soon do you think they'll try it?”, I ask Anders quietly.

Anders frowns and places his hands in his lap, fiddling with his long fingers.

“If they really believe you're such a devastating threat, then as soon as possible. They're probably speaking with Bethany now.”

I sigh, “Why now? Why didn't they just kill me during all those surgeries?”

Anders hesitates.

“Because… Well your father was still alive. He brought you here when he learned you'd left, you know that. His will and Bethany’s tiny ounce of leverage is what's kept you both alive.”

He moves in his seat to stare me dead in the eye.

“But you see now. What they do in this place can't continue. The memory wipes, they can do that to anyone. They've probably done it to me. Maybe I found a way to leave or something important but I can't remember. They have too much power.”

I slowly nod in agreement. “But maybe it's for the best, to forget.”

Anders eyebrows shoot up and he stares at me in disbelief. I shake my head and move so my body faces him as well.

“If Bethany agrees then she'll be safe.”

“No she won't.” Anders states sternly causing my back to straighten. “She'll never be safe here. They'll warp her until she fits their vision and trust me, I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Eventually she'll forget about bringing the rest of your family here because the only thing that'll matter is the Institute.”

I look away from him avoiding his glare. He's probably right. Lately the world has been proving my greatest fears, this shouldn't be such a surprise. I get up not looking at him.

“I need to see Bethany.”, I whisper mostly to myself and leave without another word. He doesn't follow as I make my way to the director's quarters.

I pass more guards than usual, something doesn't feel right. As I round the corner up the stairs my breath hitches and I freeze. A boulder of a synth stands beside the doorway to Bethany quarters. He's wearing shades this time and they've replaced his arm. I'm tempted to back down and run but as I step down the door slides open. Out walks Orsino and a blonde woman, giving him a glare that could cut through glass.

“She won't do it. We have to think abou-”, The woman whispers to Orsino before being cut off by a raised hand. He spotted me the moment they stepped out. He turns to her and whispers in her ear, she nods slowly, her glare fading from her cold features.

Orsino stops and makes his way towards me, his smile superficial. The woman follows, as well as the Arishok close behind her. Instinctively, I take another step back.

“Hello Hawke. On your way to speak with your sister?”, Orsino asks as if speaking to a small child. It's as if he can smell my fear, knowing I won't snap back around that monster of a synth.

I give him a small smile and attempt to hide the strong urge to run.

“Yes, I am. And I don't believe we've met, doctor?”

I turn to the woman who seems taken aback that I would dare to even speak to her. She's straining to be polite answering, “Petrice, Doctor Petrice. I run the Synth Retention Bureau.”

“Oh that sounds important.”, I say with mock interest.

Though I very much am, it's always interesting meeting people that want you dead. It dawns on me that she's also partly responsible for my capture via that huge block of autonomous metal standing like an obelisk beside her.

Petrice “hm’s”, “Yes, very. Now we have work to do.”

She practically pushes past me and I quickly step far away as the Arishok walks close behind her. I watch as she descends and feel a cold hand place itself gently on my shoulder.

It's Orsino, walking past me he bids me, “Goodbye, Hawke.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine and I rush into Bethany's quarters. She's out on the balcony, leaning on the railing staring at something in her hands.

“Bethy.”, I say quietly trying not to startle her. She turns her head to see me approach.

“Hey.”, She says and looks back at the item in her hands. She smiles and then looks up at me. “I found this.”

She hands me a frame, it's a photo of us. The entire Hawke family standing together, well, the twins are being held by mom and dad. Bethany's smiling sweetly in dads arms, her yellow sundress bright against his dark brown skin. Carver on the contrary is scowling as usual. He's holding onto mom tightly, she's contently smiling in a way I haven't seen in years. I'm standing between them, my head barely reaches mom's waist. I'm smiling obnoxiously, my missing front teeth displayed proudly. We're all relatively happy. It's surreal knowing that this is the only photo of us all together.

I laugh lightly and hand it back to her.

“Where'd you find it?”

“On his desk.”, She sighs. “He loved us, protected us. I need to do the same.”

My eyebrows knit together and I place a hand on her shoulder.

“You shouldn't have to. That's supposed to be my job. Sibling hierarchy and what not.”

She scoffs and stares at me remorsely.

“If you say so.”

I look at the photo one more time.

“What do you think we would've been like if he had us stay?”

“More or less the same, honestly. Though Carver would've hated it for sure.”, She grins. “You as well.”

I flatten my lips and give a small shrug. “It has some perks. Despite all the lies and deception.”

Bethany turns her head slowly, her eyebrows raised. “Oh, you did not.”

“Do you even know what I'm talking about?”, I laugh.

She scoffs, “I have an idea and with your reputation I would be extremely surprised if it wasn't about you sticking your tongue in something.”

I gasp, “You make me sound like such a slut. I don't stick my tongue in everything. I have standards.”

“Does your standards include tall and blonde?”, She almost groans.

I avoid eye contact with her.

“Well those are pretty common traits, you'll have to be more specific.”

She shoves me gently, her mouth open in mock shock.

“I can't believe you. Your own nurse, so predictable. No wonder you're always together.”

“Anders is a really great guy.”

“Uh huh, so was Sebastian.”, She jabs.

“Oh ouch, low blow sis.”

She laughs before growing quiet. Her face contorting into a mask of worry. I inch closer to her and study her face.

“Hey, you ok?”, I ask with genuine concern.

She gives me a meek smile and shakes her head ‘no’.

“I'm just tired. It's been a long day.”

“Alright, I'll let you get some rest then.”, I say before placing a kiss on her forehead and begin to leave.

“Wait, Marian.”, She timidly calls after.

I turn to her, she's holding the picture tightly to her chest. She stands before me like the child I took care of, nervous and scared. I want to wrap her up and protect her, tell her everything will be alright and that I'll take care of everything.

But she's no longer a child and even if she was, she needs to make mistakes. She needs to learn what matters to her.

She hesitates and I wish she'd say it. Tell  me the truth of what I overheard, tell me what'll happen.

She takes a deep breath, “Nevermind.”

My heart sinks and I can barely give her a small smile.

“Alright, I'll see you tomorrow.”

____

These aren't my quarters.

It didn't feel right going back to that plain white room, alone, with a new sense of betrayal.

I raise my hand to the small intercom and hover over it.

He's the only one I can trust now.

I press the button and listen to the buzzer ring, followed by a series of shuffling and something large falling to the floor. I hear him curse and smile to myself.

The door slides open revealing Anders wearing his dark rimmed glasses and a blue t-shirt with his white slacks. He looks more lanky without the formality of his lab coat.

He pushes his glasses up into his hair as if checking that it's me.

“Hawke, are you alright?”, He asks with genuine concern.

“Yeah, I just didn't feel safe in my own room.”, I half-lie. “Also I spoke with Bethany.”

“Oh. Well please, come in.” He says backing away from the entrance allowing me in. “Excuse the mess.”

A mess is an understatement. It's a small room and the clutter makes it seem even smaller. I step in, avoiding the overflow of crumpled papers coming from a tiny wire wastebin in the corner. A desk sits opposite the door stacked with paperwork and half empty mugs. His terminal is almost buried, the glow of the screen shining through the stacks. His bed sits a couple feet next to the doorway and is the largest thing in the room, the blue sheets tangled amongst the pillows.

He looks around as if searching for a place for me to sit. He ends up gesturing to the bed and watches as I take a seat.

“Um, I don't get many visitors.”, He laughs nervously. “Do you want something to drink? I have tea or water.”

“Tea sounds good.”, I smile up at him trying to be reassuring.

He makes his way towards a table by his desk and turns on the hot plate resting on it.

“So what'd she say?”

I sigh and place my head in my hands, resting my elbows in my lap.

“Nothing. I even ran into Orsino and Petrice before I spoke with her. And she said nothing about it.”

He walks into his bathroom to fill the teapot with water and asks, “Well did you ask her about it?”

I wait until he comes back out to the room to  reply, “Not exactly.”

“Why not? I thought you trusted one another.”

“I thought so too but I suppose I assumed too much.”

Anders sighs before placing the teapot on the hotplate and sitting in the desk chair, swiveling it around to face me.

“You didn't assume that she would take your side if you told her?”

I shrug and release my face from my hands.

“Like I've stated before, I don't know what to believe anymore.”

“Wow, you are quite the stubborn pickle.” He states as the teapot begins to whistle. He gets up and takes it off. “Chamomile ok?”

“Yeah.” I grunt. “But she needs to learn and make mistakes.”

Anders snorts, “Even if it involves whether or not you live or die? Or in this case, keep your memories? That's a load of bullshit right there. You shouldn't give her so much control over your life.”

“I'm not. I know what I'm doing.”, The words are empty.

He lifts up two empty mugs on the table and checks to see if anything's inside. He blows into one before filling them both up.

“You should tell her before things get out of hand. It'll hurt her more, finding out that you knew the whole time.”

“Anders you wouldn't.”, I ‘tch’ my tongue.

He hands me a warm yellow and blue mug. The red text on it is faded but I can make out ‘Far Harbor’.

“Anders wouldn't what? It's not like you'd remember me or care.”

I sigh, “Don't do that.”

“Then don't just lay down and let them do what they want with you. Take control of your life Hawke.”

He sits down next to me holding his mug in his lap. I take a sip of the tea, it's still too hot.

“How would I resist them then?”, I ask not looking at him.

He drums his fingers along his mug.

“Leave.”

He drums faster and takes a deep breath.

“I haven't been fully honest with you about Justice.”

I glare at him waiting for him to speak.

“He has this ‘plan’ to get practically every innocent synth out. We just need to let him know and then he'll help us leave.”

“Why hasn't he done it before?”

“It's risky, very risky. I don't even think it's safe. Because if it's done we’d have to leave almost immediately because they'd easily figure out who it was.”

I have to ask, “What about Bethany?”

I watch him take a long drink from his tea.

“Talk to her first about their plan against you. Find where her loyalties lie.”

I nod, the tea slowly taking effect. I yawn realizing how exhausted I am.

“Do you mind if I stay the night?”

Anders sputters in his tea and starts coughing. Once he stops he looks at me with wide eyes.

I start slowly, “Or not, if it's that much of a hassle.”

“Oh no, not at all. It was just, I didn’t expect it.”, Anders laughs nervously. “It’s a safe choice considering your circumstance. And-”

I cut him off with a slow peck on the cheek which shuts him right up.

“Please don’t make it weird.”

He clears his throat and attempts to hide his now cherry red cheeks.

“Right. I’m sure I can dig up something clean for you to sleep in. I hope you don’t mind sharing the bed.”

I shrug before getting up and finishing the tea, placing the mug amongst his collection.

“I’ve slept on worse.”

Anders starts digging through his small dresser beside the bed. Pulling out a large beige t-shirt and cloth shorts, he turns to hand them to me.

“Oh? Like what?”

I take them from him, they smell like fresh laundry and him. I place them under my arm and scratch my head trying to think of the all time worst place I’ve slept in.

“I fell asleep once fixing a drain in the men’s shower back in the vault. I hadn’t slept well the previous two nights and I don’t know, my body just shut down. Ended up waking up face to face with the drain. Was not the greatest of smells.”

Anders snorts, “I bet.”

I make my way to his bathroom asking, “What about you?”

He sighs, “Probably on an uncleaned patient bed.”

I start undressing, making a disgusted noise through my shirt.

“Yeah, it was a long night and I didn’t check. Nothing compared to a shower drain.”

I finish, walking back out clumping up my clothes in a ball. Anders had moved back to his desk and was reading a clipboard of paper, occasionally marking something off. I place the ball of clothes on his dresser and casually drop face down onto his bed. I flip over and scoot up to rest my back at the head of the bed.

The scene seems too mundane to go along with everything else that’s been happening. A wave of nostalgia washes over me remembering the late nights in Sebastian's quarters. He would do the same after a couple hours of good rough sex, vigilantly back to work at his desk. I chuckle at the barely relatable pattern between him and Anders.

He looks around to me, chuckling by myself on the bed and smiles sweetly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”, I yawn, settling down in the bed and close my eyes. I hear Anders say something but it doesn’t process as I unintentionally drift asleep.

It’s the best sleep I’ve had in awhile.

And the stiff awakening against my thigh makes it a good morning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: In which they do the do.

I wake up to the caress of fabric and the heat of another body. In the the back of my mind I know it's early, too early to be awake.

I always sleep with three pillows, one of them I  always end up spooning. But this isn't my bed and this pillow is breathing. I crack my eyes open to a dark room, the only light coming from the glow of the terminal. My eyes slowly adjust to see that my head has been resting on Anders chest.

Breathing in, I shift my head back down and adjust my sleeping position. My leg had propped itself up on his and it brushes something suspiciously firm.

He groans, still asleep and turns on his side to face me. In my groggy morning state, I run my hand over his cheek and into his hair, playing with it.

He looks so peaceful, his face half squished into the pillow and his mouth half open. I quietly snort to myself.

I move closer into his body, my thigh brushing against his hardness causing him to quietly groan in his sleep. I test it again and third time's a charm. He breathes in through his nose, burying his face in his pillow before turning back to me. His eyes slowly open and he gives me a lazy smile.

“Goodmorning.”, He says, his voice rough from sleep sending a bolt of heat to my core.

I place a lazy kiss on his lips as my reply. Moving in close, I shift my leg to push against him again. It earns me a delicious moan from his lips.

He wraps an arm around my waist and caresses my hip with a splayed hand.

“Are you sure?”, He asks pulling away from the kiss.

“Yeah. Are you?”, I ask before placing a kiss on his jaw.

The hand that was on my hip slides underneath my shirt and up to my chest. I gently moan as he caresses my breast, sliding his thumb over my hardening nipple.

“Ever since I first saw you.” He croons, massaging my breast in his hand. “I’ve wanted you.”

I kiss him deeply, biting gently at his lower lip, the need for him rising. I move my leg back over to push him down and straddle him. Grinding slowly into his hips and feeling his erection between the heat of my thighs through our clothes. It almost drives me insane. He feels it too, sliding his hands to my hips and holding them down in an attempt to control the pace.

His hands wander back up and begin to remove my shirt. I help him before removing his as well as his pants. I palm his erection through his underwear, sizing him up and earning another moan from him.

I make my way down, nipping and kissing at his neck. I stop at the top of his hip and look up to make sure he's watching.

His golden brown eyes are hazed over in want. He runs a hand in my hair and I move up to kiss his wrist before gently placing my mouth over the base of his erection through the cloth.

He sucks air through his teeth, raising his hips to gain more contact.

I stop teasing and pull down his boxers letting his cock spring free. Taking it in one hand, I stroke him from base to tip. His breath quickening as I place my lips against the head, tonguing the slit. Stroking, I take his head into my mouth and suck. His grip in my hair tightening as he bucks his hips forward.

“Fuck, Hawke.”, He moans.

He does it again and I can hear it in his voice he's trying to hold back. I take my free hand and run it along the side of his thigh, up to his hip and grip down.

The precum begins to bead along my tongue as I take one final lick and pull away. He hisses in disapproval and props himself up on his elbows.

I climb back into his lap and he quickly removes the shorts he gave me. What's left between me and his cock is a thin layer of cloth which he thumbs right in the middle trying to find my clit.

His gaze is possessive as he slides his fingers around the underwear and into the wet heat.

I gasp as he runs his long fingers along the soft flesh before testing a finger inside. He circles it around, hooking it gently to find the right spot. I move my hands to his shoulders and hold them tight as he finds it. I bite my lip to hold back the moans, he sees and kisses me. Spreading my lips slightly open with his and making me moan into his mouth.

He slides another finger in and begins to fuck it slowly. His palm hitting around my clit causing me to grind against his hand.

Adding another finger, he uses his free hand to palm my chest.

The knot tightens in my core and I feel myself getting close. My thighs shake and I clench onto his fingers, moaning loudly into his shoulder. He doesn't stop, whispering words of encouragement as I feel myself lose control.

I bite down into his shoulder causing him to gasp as I come onto his hand. He lets me ride it out a little longer before removing his fingers.

I kiss the imprint of teeth I left on his shoulder and settle down into his lap. His erection pressing between my legs. Mouthing at his jaw and I grind onto it, my wet sex running along it.

“Such a tease.”, He whispers, groaning into my hair. “Hold on.”

He pushes me back slightly as he reaches over to bed stand and begins shuffling through the drawer. He slams it shut and curses as it catches on his finger. I take his wounded hand and examine it, taking the small plastic package he pulled from the drawer.

“You'll live.”, I say before planting a kiss on the wounded finger.

He smiles sweetly before taking the condom back and tearing open the package with his teeth. He rolls it on and I sit straight up to wrap my hand around him, guiding him in. I sigh as he fills me up, his eyes heavy lidded with lust.

He wraps an arm around my waist before turning us over, possessively arching over me. He pulls halfway out before plunging deep inside. My back arches at the sensation, breath quickening as he sets the pace. I gasp loudly as he lifts my legs up, gripping hard on my ass to meet his hips. With one hand, I grip the base of his neck to steady myself and tangle my fingers in his hair.

He feels like a different person as he ravages my body. Mouthing almost every area of my chest, stopping mostly to suck hard on each nipple. It's possessive and almost animalistic. The thought of doing this again and again tightens the knot in my core. I can feel a second orgasm building as I dig my fingers into his back.

I can feel his muscles tighten as he thrusts faster. I arch my back right as he comes, gasping into my neck. I moan, slightly disappointed as he slows the pace back down. He stays inside taking notice of my composure, so close to the second one.

He props himself over me, taking his thumb to rub around my clit. His cock has softened slightly but he still grinds inside, noticeably a lot slower.

He watches my mouth spread open, gasping and takes his other hand placing his thumb against my bottom lip. He glazes his thumb across and I close my mouth on it, giving it a slow lick.

“Let me feel you come.”, He whispers as he removes his finger and replaces it with his lips. He rubs faster around my clit as he kisses me, opening my mouth again to moan into his.

I claw down his back as I arch my back, curving into his embrace. He watches as I gasp for air, a wave of pleasure washing over me. It's quickly replaced by exhaustion and I slouch back down. He gently kisses at my neck before pulling out and rolling over to the side.

We lay there, panting together.

After a couple minutes, I manage to roll out of bed and put on one of his shirts before heading to the bathroom. I regretfully flick on the bright florescent light and catch a glimpse of the mess that is me. I give myself a toothy grin and look closer at the scar across the bridge of my nose.

It’s not as prominent as before but it’s still there as a reminder of my first steps out of the vault.

I finish my business in the bathroom and head back out to find him asleep. I do my best not to disturb him as I get back in bed and do my best to wrap my arms around his waist. He moves an arm to mimic the gesture of affection.

He grumbles half-asleep, “What time is it?”

“Sleep time.”, I grumble back.

He groans before propping himself up and reaching over to look at the analog clock resting on the bed stand.

“Nope, it’s time to get up and do productive things.”, He says before yawning obnoxiously.

I groan, “Fuck that.”

He flips over to face me, placing a thumb against my cheek and gives me a warm smile. He places a small peck on my lips before shuffling out of bed, butt naked.

“Come on, I need your help with something.”, He says with a sly smile.

I prop my head up with my elbow and raise an eyebrow.

“I actually do need your help for a serious matter, later.”

He gestures with his hand to back-track before walking slowly to the bathroom. I lay back for a moment before hearing the shower turn on. Lazily, I make my way off the bed and into the bathroom.

He steps into the small shower, holding a hand out to test the water before using to push back his hair. The water rolls down his back, cascading around the curve of his ass. He catches my gaze as I make my way inside, giving a small yelp of surprise at the temperature. His calm demeanor cracks as he chuckles before caressing my cheek, pulling me into a lazy kiss.

For once, I feel safe. Embraced in his arms, I never want this to end. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: In which it's all part of the plan.

Shower sex is good in theory. Attempting it is a different story. Too many limbs slipping about and water getting in every crevice. I had almost dragged us down twice now from trying to prop myself up in a comfortable position. Didn’t help that the shower was only built to hold one person at a time. At one point Anders just stopped trying and started laughing at how ridiculous it was becoming.

We finish up and step out into the cold embrace of the bathroom. Being fully awake now, the reality of what I’d started settles. It was just sex, that’s all, right? If we were in a safer environment it could be more but…

I dry myself off and head into the other room to get dressed. The ball of clothes I’d placed on the counter had somehow migrated to the floor. I pull my shirt on and hear Anders approach behind me.

“Hey.”, He starts quietly.

I look over my shoulder to smile at him. “Hey yourself.”

He’s leaning against the doorway, rubbing his hair with a towel around his shoulders and only wearing a pair of white slacks.

“Do you want to get something to eat? Or do you want to go straight to Bethany?”

Honestly, I’d rather stay here. I scoff at myself for even thinking that. He raises an eyebrow before sitting down at his desk, leaning over the chairs side.

“Or we could stay here all day and see if we can figure out how to fuck in the shower.”, He says smugly, stealing the words right out of my head.

An image of me slipping and splitting my skull open ruins the appeal, thanks brain.

“I’ll pass on the shower but the other parts… Maybe later.”

Anders thins his lips and nods agreeably. He starts picking at the seat, taking on a quieter demeanor.

“So…”, He pauses and I subconsciously hold my breath hoping he won't say something that’ll ruin whatever this is. “I still need your help with that thing I mentioned earlier.”

I sigh and turn it into a light chuckle, “I recall taking care of it at least three times.”

“The last one was more of a half to be honest.” He retorts.

My jaw drops in mock disbelief and he shrugs. I sit at the edge of his bed fully dressed and begin lacing my shoes.

“It’s unsex realated, unfortunately. Tedious, actually. Justice wants me to put up these devices that’ll fry the servers once we’re gone, so they can’t find us or hopefully do anything.”

“And you want my help?”, I ask. “Sounds simple enough.”

He’s avoiding eye contact with me. His long fingers drum against the back of the chair, something I’ve learned he does when he’s nervous. He stops, noticing my attention to it and pulls his hands into his lap.

“Yes, it should be. I just need a lookout just in case.”

“Right, well what are friends for?”, I say realizing the weight of the words as they were spilling out. I recover with a smile which he returns in earnest. “I just need to take care of things with Bethany and I can meet you somewhere.”

“We should start in the reactor, that’ll be the hardest to get into. An hour and a half should be enough time for you to sort things out with her, I’ll meet you there.”

I nod and start to get up, he gently grabs a passing hand and holds it there. I squeeze it and shift to face him.

“Hey, be careful alright? The next time I see you I want you to be able to remember me.”, Anders states, squeezing back.

I place a hand on his cheek, brushing along the stubble and lean down to plant a light kiss. He trails after me as I pull away and I kiss him again.

“I’ll be fine.”, I hum contently and begin to take my leave. I get to the door and turn around to catch his stare.

“Thank you. I needed this.”, I almost mutter.

He surprisingly doesn’t scoff. Instead he smiles gently and replies, “Yeah, I needed it too. It’s been a long time.”

I furrow my brow, tempted to dive deeper into it. But I don’t, I’ll save it for later. I give him a wave and leave, heading out to the director's quarters.

It’s midmorning, the hallways are a bustle of scientists and synths starting their daily routines. I feel out of place and crowded. The walls seem closer and the stares seem to linger longer than before. If my father had supporters they certainly weren’t many, or they just weren’t around.

The trek itself felt longer than it should be and thankfully no one is standing menacingly by her door. I exhale before giving the intercom a buzz. I wait a minute in silence and try again, still no answer. I look around the entryway and down the stairs to see no one in sight. I try the door, it’s unlocked. Fear creeps into my gut and I call out Bethany’s name. Stepping inside, I hear no footsteps, no one else is inside.

She’s missing. Again.

“Hawke.”, A voice speaks from behind, startling me. I let out a dignified shriek and swing around ready to fight whoever it was. It’s just Orsino, sneaky vampire  bastard.

“Why are you like this?”, I ask in all honesty.

He frowns, giving me a questioning look as if I were a cat with two legs.

I huff, “Where is she?”

“Training, she is still our future director.”, The disdain drips from his tone. “She’ll be gone for the day and I’m sure whatever you need to speak with her about can wait until then.”

“Did they find someone else to babysit her?”, I ask, crossing my arms.

Orsino hesitates to answer.

“She doesn’t require my presence at all times. There are others, more senior, to advise her.”

“I couldn’t imagine someone else being more senior to you, doctor.”, I say with a toothy grin. He doesn’t take to it and instead scowls at me as if I were a peeling scab.

He huffs, “Well this was pleasant as usual. But I have matters to attend too. Goodbye Hawke.”

I hold my grin as he begins to walk away.

“Okay, bye.”

Any reasonable person would have left and not stopped to snoop in the future directors room, but at this point I've proven not to be that person.  

I wait a moment to watch Orsino meander down the hall before heading inside.

It’s colder without her in the room. The heavy weight of trespassing weighs over me, as if I didn’t feel out of place before. A white box rests on her desk, a cord peaking out of it. It blinks a dim green glow every two seconds. Hesitant, I approach, praying it’s not some mutant glowing egg waiting to hatch.

It’s luckily just the opposite. Resting atop a leather jacket lays my Pipboy, a loading bar blinking across the screen. Picking it up, I cradel it like a long lost child.

“What are they doing to you baby?”, I whisper to it, thumbing the dents in the metal.

I flip it over to examine the cord leading to the terminal before placing it back down to sit at the desk.

It’s downloading, the numbers running across the screen. I open one of the files to a series of numbers in a specific order, they feel familiar. Everything clicks together as it dawns on me that they’re coordinates. Coordinates from every place I’ve been in the Commonwealth, which isn’t a long list.

But still, it doesn’t sit well in my gut. I unplug it and watch as the numbers stop, the loading screen on my pipboy blinking to black.

Another thing to confront Bethany about.

I stare at the screen debating whether or not I should smash the entire terminal. I suppose it won't matter if the devices that Anders spoke about do their job.

I huff and get up to turn my attention to the jacket resting inside the box. It’s even more tattered than the last time I saw it, the stitched hound on the back baring a new tear on its midsection. I wrap it around the pipboy and take my leave.

On the way down to the reactor I stop by the cafeteria to grab a bite and spot the red-haired synth again. She’s mopping the floor diligently as I approach her. But before I get to her, I see a large figure in the corner of my eye that causes me to freeze in my tracks and I head in the opposite direction.

I turn back to watch Petrice and the Arishok walk past her.

Maybe next time.

I get to the door to the Advanced systems wing before Anders and attempt to blend in. It’s an agonizing ten minutes before he finally arrives carrying a white duffle bag very carefully. He’s leaning to one side to compensate for the weight of it.

“What are you carrying a bomb in that thing?”, I ask jokingly. He nearly drops it in surprise and scrambles to hold it in both arms, looking at me as if I told him his metaphorical cat was dead.

“What? No, why would you say that?”, He stutters attempting to recompose himself.

I put up my hands in defense and give him a sympathetic smile.

“Sorry, it’s just the way you’re holding it.”

He looks down to check himself, scrunching his nose.

“Well, they’re not bombs. Definitely not. Let’s just get this over with.”