Authors Note: So, this was inspired by my own interpretation of the end of Dissent. It was also written before I knew about Anders blowing up the Chantry, and when I typed it up and re-read it earlier today I felt kind of sad - this interpretation of Anders would not have wanted to do that. I wrote him as someone who didn't allow for killing innocent people. I still interpret him as that - after all, Justice was becoming Vengeance. When you ask if it was Justice, Anders says that they are one and the same, but they didn't used to be...anyway, I digress.

Set after Dissent, when Anders almost killed Ella, the circle mage.

Anders had been trashing things when she arrived. Barely aware of his surroundings, he'd been throwing away everything he felt he had no use for. It was a meaningless task. Tears burned in his eyes. That girl, that mage, she'd thought him a demon, and Justice had almost killed her!

He had almost killed her.

She was innocent, one of the people he'd been trying to help, to protect, and he'd…

His hands were shaking as he lifted another possession, ready to throw it away like the others.

"Anders?"

The voice was soft, but it stopped him. Hawke. Suddenly aware of how he must seem, he paused, trying to calm down before turning to face her. If she hadn't been there…she'd managed to stop him hurting the girl, she'd managed to talk down Justice and prevent him becoming a true murderer, but she must think him a monster now. He'd been surprised she hadn't before. Even after they'd travelled into the Fade to save Feynriel, and she'd seen Justice take over his body. Heard Justice speak with his mouth, move with his body.

It was lucky, he supposed, that she hadn't accused him of being a monster. If the treatment of that mage girl was anything to go by, even a suggestion of criticism would send Justice into a fury. The spirit that had once been Anders' friend thought himself above judgement, with every action, no matter how wrong, justified somehow.

He looked up at last, hoping his face didn't show his anguish and guilt. He should never have tried to go against Ser Alrik. He should have expected how Justice would react. And it wouldn't stop anything, anyway. If Alrik had spoken to other Templars and Clerics, they would jump at the solution – turn all mages Tranquil, and they are no longer a threat. It was simple, effective, and made him want to throw up with how repulsive it was. They made too many mages tranquil as it was, sacrificing them. If they weren't tranquil, they were sent to fight a demon, sent to face a monster in order to earn the right to live. Some of the mages had their harrowing's when they were barely even of age, tested by the Templars so that they know how to resist a demon.

Hawke just looked at him. He couldn't read her expression. Silently, she held out a letter. He took it, reading it quickly. His eyes widened.

"They…the Divine rejected it? Meredith rejected it? They…they rejected Alrik's plan?" He couldn't believe it. He'd been convinced that any Templar would love the idea, that if it reached them, the Chantry wouldn't stop until every mage in Thedas was made Tranquil. He'd…he'd never been so glad to be wrong.

"Maybe I could try speaking to the Grand Cleric…" He murmured. Maybe a peaceful resolution was possible. Maybe they could find justice for the mages, without the need for vengeance and destruction.

A hand reached out to touch his shoulder and he started. Hawke was looking at him, concern written all over her face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, then winced. "Sorry, Maker, that sounds stupid. I just…it's not your fault, you know. You said before, you can't control Justice. And…I saw you in the Fade. When he takes over, you don't seem to have any choice. You have no control." She said, hand rubbing his shoulder slightly in an attempt at comfort.

He could barely believe what he was hearing. She'd seen him almost kill an innocent girl and she still attempted to comfort him. She wasn't…she wasn't looking at him as though he was a monster, like others had, like he'd expected.

He closed his eyes. "I almost killed her. I was trying to save her, how can you…I'm a monster," He admitted to himself, hating the thought but knowing that it had become true. "An abomination."

His voice was harsh, broken. "Why would you want to help me?" He almost didn't want to hear the answer. Some sense of responsibility to her companion, to someone who was her friend, maybe. He was scared of what it would be.

Hawke sat down next to him on the ground, a slight roll of her eyes.

"Please. You named a cat 'Ser-Pounce-a-lot'. You're clearly not a monster."

Anders almost smiled, despite all of it. Trust Hawke to make a joke, even a bad one.

Then Hawke continued. "It wasn't you. It was Justice. You would never do that, I know you wouldn't. But…you blame yourself anyway."

The serious tone of her voice was a huge contrast to normal. Anders almost felt he should start making jokes instead. He rarely heard Hawke speak seriously, after all.

"Yes. It was my fault, Hawke – my joining with Justice has caused other deaths as well, but…only people who threatened us, before. I…I should have more control."

It was his strong emotions which had awakened Justice. His fury at the Templars, at all they'd done. If he hadn't been so angry…

"There are so many things that bring guilt," Hawke said. "But just because you feel guilt doesn't mean you did anything wrong. Logically, I…I know it's not my fault that Bethany was taken to the circle. But I feel like it is, regardless. I was meant to protect her, and I failed. My mother blames me at least partly, I know, and herself too. She asked me not to take Bethany with me, after all."

Anders was shaking his head. "That's not the same," He interrupted. "That…she wasn't discovered because of you, or your mother. You couldn't have known it would happen. But that Circle girl, I am to blame for that. I thought…I never thought accepting Justice would lead to this. But it was my body, my magic, my anger that would have killed her. Not Justice."

Hawke shook her head. "No. If you're going to do that, I'll explain why you should blame me for various things. If I thought about it for a moment, I could probably think of a reason for me being to blame for Justice almost killing that girl."

Anders jerked around to look at her. "There is no possible way to – "

"Got one!" Hawke said triumphantly, shooting him a smug grin. "From what I've seen of Justice before, I should have realised that he might go overboard where Templars are involved, especially in relation to Tranquility. When I've seen Justice emerge before, it's always been around Templars or anger at others being made Tranquil. I should have gone alone, or with some of the others, not with you."

Anders scoffed. "That makes no sense, Hawke."

"Doesn't it?" She asked calmly. "I've known you for three years now, I should've known the effect it would have."

He shook his head. "There was definitely no way you could have known, Hawke. I didn't even expect that response. It didn't even occur to me, even with all that's happened with Justice. It wasn't –" He stopped. She was smirking, as if he'd said something incriminating. He eyed her suspiciously.

She mimed an innocent face. "Go on." She urged.

He folded his arms. "What, Hawke?"

She smiled. "Oh, fine. You said it. You didn't know. You didn't expect it. You had no reason to think Justice would ever act that way. I win!" She smirked, a smug expression on her face. She was just about resisting the urge to stick out her tongue at him, he could tell.

He felt his mouth open slightly. She'd tricked him!

"No, Hawke, it's not the same- " She cut him off.

"Ah, ah, ah, you said it yourself. Unless you want to assign guilt to me as well, you have no case." She said smugly.

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help it. A smile twitched at his lip. Hawke let out an over-exaggerated gasp.

"My, is that a smile? On Anders? Someone call a healer, our one must be ill!" She joked. Her lips turned up, too. "Come on, make that smile a little bigger," She encouraged.

He couldn't help it. There was just something about Hawke that made it almost impossible not to be cheered. Her dark hair curled madly over her shoulders as she grinned at him. She couldn't make the guilt vanish, or erase what he'd almost done, but somehow she made everything more bearable. She was brilliant.

When they'd met, he'd not been willing to help her. She'd earned his trust and respect quickly. She'd somehow even made him agree to travelling into the Deep Roads with her, rather than just telling her how to get there. He'd never wanted to go back there, but with her he'd returned, fought darkspawn, beside a ragtag group not dissimilar to the few Wardens in Amaranthine when he'd first joined the Order. Hawke wasn't perfect, not by any means – she seemed only rarely capable of being serious, and turned almost every subject into a joke.

They'd got into too many battles because of her strange sense of humour. She was almost always unwilling to listen to reason, and he was always confused as to whether or not she was serious when she flirted with him. He'd warned her away, despite that. It was too dangerous for her to become involved with him. He wasn't just an apostate but had a spirit of Justice living in his head. Add the Taint, and anyone even being friends with him was a fool, let alone risking the prospect of romance. Even so, none of his warnings seemed to stop her.

He's not been sure she'd understood all the risks, the danger…but she had to now. After what he'd almost done…she'd seen that, and still, she didn't fear him.

She was either incredibly compassionate, incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. He couldn't decide which.

"Thank you." He said softly. She took his hand, holding it between hers in what felt like a supportive gesture. "But if I cannot control Justice…my tether on him is hard to hold. When he takes over like that…you have to promise, Hawke. If I…if that happens again, if I kill an innocent, or try to…Please. Stop me, in any way possible. I don't want to be a monster."

He'd been selfish before, but linking with Justice had mostly changed that. All he'd wanted originally was to be free himself, to get away from the circle and the Templars. But he'd seen how the actions of one affected others. Even when he'd been selfish, he was a healer. He healed the minor injuries in the circle, and any serious ones that occurred, mostly from surges of yet-to-be-controlled magic. Though after a few escapes, he wasn't allowed to interact with the younger mages anymore. The Templars had feared he'd corrupt them, influence them into attempts to escape their gilded cage. After the penultimate escape, he'd been put in isolation for a year, locked away from all the other mages, with only Mister Wiggums for company. The more they punished him, the more he wanted freedom.

It had been a lonely year. After that, he'd escaped again, been caught, taken past Amaranthine and conscripted after the attack on Vigil's Keep. If the Warden-Commander hadn't conscripted him, he'd have been made Tranquil, or killed. He'd prefer being killed.

He'd always be grateful to the Warden-Commander who'd become his friend, but joining the Grey Wardens was another cage - though he had a longer leash. He doubted his friend was surprised to hear he'd left them. She probably hadn't expected him to merge with Justice, though.

He was brought back to the present by Hawke's quiet response.

"You sure? It wouldn't be you, it would be-"

"It would be me." Anders replied. "It would be me who'd killed someone. If it was you, Hawke-if it was you, wouldn't you want to die rather than be used like that? If…If a blood mage controlled you, and the only way to stop you killing an innocent was to kill you, wouldn't you want that?"

Hawke looked down at their hands. She was clasping his in hers, holding it, and staring down at it as if she couldn't bear to let it go.

"Yeah," She said finally. "I would." She took a deep breath. "Fine. I-I'll…if it comes to that, I'll kill you."

She was barely looking at him now. Maybe that was what it took, then. This request, to kill him if it was necessary. That was what it took for him to alienate her. He felt his heart clench.

Then she swung round, moving so that her head was on his chest. "Maker, you'd better not let that happen. I don't want to…I don't want to have to do that to you." She said desperately.

He was surprised; for a moment he didn't move. He was used to comforting patients when necessary, but this was different. He hesitated, before holding her.

"Hopefully it won't come to that," He said, softly.

She nodded against him. "It better not, or so help me, I'll…" She paused. "I'll do something." She said decisively. "And it'll be bad."

He resisted the urge to laugh. He was pretty sure that, as much as she usually revelled in humour, she wouldn't appreciate it. He simply smiled into her hair, and held her close.
And maybe things would be alright, after all.