Dry exhaustion. Eyelids struggling to stay open. NO! I refuse to give in. I refuse... just let me be... please.
The hurt wiggles its way into Cole's mind, lacing him with a hint of ghostly pain. Someone is hurting, he realises, closing his eyes and blocking out the ongoing drone of the tavern below him in order to focus on the pain. Close, but not here. He goes out through the door opposite him that leads to the battlements and finds the source of the pain - a girl, looking out at the mountains that surround Skyhold with a certain feel of despair about her. He draws closer but decides not to let her notice him yet; he doesn't know how to help yet.
Her face is dry, yet tear stained - no doubt the harsh wind had stolen her tears the moment they had fallen. But how could he help? Cole puts his hand on her shoulder but she doesn't notice him.
Torn apart by myself; how can I hope to survive this fight when part of me doesn't want to? This wind is supposed to feel cold and I should be freezing, but I don't care enough to move. Why don't I care? Why can no one see that? Why can no one see me? Yearning for help but loathing to accept. Paralysed.
Cole has learned enough. He opens his mouth to speak, remembering to keep his tone soft and gentle, unlike Father who used to get angry and yell at me. "I can see you," her startled eyes almost persuade him to make her forget but then he sees her relax a little when he slowly removes his hand from her. "I understand what it is like to fight against yourself," he tells her, "You feel as though you are losing control - losing yourself - and every time you remember that, you lose yourself to the fear."
She doesn't seem to question his sudden appearance. Perhaps she doesn't care. But Cole feels a small fraction of the hurt fade. Lonely and isolated. Ignored. Trapped. Stuck. Imprisoned. The bars of the prison getting stronger with every passing day. Minute. Hour.
Second.
"You have to choose," Cole says, "Do you want to get better? Or do you want to give in? You have to pick or the pain won't stop. It hurts because you don't believe that what you want is what you want." She glances at her foot, which is still on the ridge of the battlements. A choice. My choice.
"I don't know," she says wistfully. Doubt. If he could see my pain, maybe others will. Maybe it can get better.
"Let me help," he says, removing his hat so that she can see his face more clearly. Trusting. Kind face. Also.. lost. I think he understands. I want him to understand.
She peeks over the edge of the wall, at the large drop that would consume her life and then shivers. Wrapping her loose shawl tightly around her shoulders, she steps down and catches the icy blue eyes of the spirit boy.
"Okay."
A/N: I wrote this as a kind of therapy for me, I guess. Things and emotions have been getting on top of me and recently I've desperately been wishing that I had Cole around - hence the inspiration for this small piece. Like I said, I don't expect this to be a masterpiece or anything. It's been written in a moment that I needed it. Enough said, let's all move on.