Things always seemed to fall apart around Hawke. He wasn't sure why. It'd always seem like things were finally taking a turn for the better, and then it would all come crashing down around him. He'd managed to stay optimistic for years, despite this, leaning on his family and those few he was close to. But now, he was alone, and he felt helpless.
Father. The man he'd always seen as invincible. The family could do nothing but watch as he wasted away from an illness that proved resistant to magical and conventional cures.
Carver. They'd survived Ostagar, just to encounter that damned ogre.. He could still perfectly recall the way it threw his brother, and how it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Though he knew she hadn't truly meant it, his Mother's harsh words, blaming him, still stuck in his head. He still dreamed about that, about what he could have done differently.
Bethany. Hawke could feel his chest tightening and his hands shook as he thought of her. Her death was his fault. He knew it. He should have been protecting her. Mother begged him to leave Bethany behind, but he didn't. She died because he let her come. He couldn't save her. Damn the darkspawn...
Mother. It'd been only a month since she... Oh, Maker, what a fool he'd been. He should have realized what was happening sooner. Should have been faster.. He still felt like he could have done something. Could have saved her somehow.
Now he had nobody. For a while, he'd thought he had Fenris. Thought he'd gotten through to that broody elf. He trusted him, Maker damn him! Hawke let his guard down on that night, and he'd thought, maybe, things were going to be okay. Maybe he'd be able to just be happy for once. And then the bastard just.. left. Hawke still didn't understand why, but he figured it had to be something about himself.. He'd been so desperate to have someone close to him.
Well. There were his other friends, of course. He cared greatly for all of them, of course. However, he was terrified of losing them. He couldn't let them in. Everyone he did let in.. they left. They died. Something happened to take them from him. Better to keep them them at arms length than lose them..
The loud rumble of thunder pulled the rogue out of his dark thoughts, and he realized he'd been crying, just a little. The rain was loud on the windows and roof, but he could still hear voices downstairs. Bodahn probably had someone over.. or.. something. Hawke lowered his face into his hands, focusing on the sound of the rain and ignoring the voices. He was so caught up in the sound of the rain that he didn't hear the soft knock on his door, or hear the door open.
"Hey. Hawke." It was Varric. "Missed you at the Hanged Man earlier. Thought we were gonna play Wicked Grace. .. You okay?"
The rogue flinched. He didn't look at the dwarf, shrugging. "Oh, I'm fine. Just.. enjoying the rain." He tried to sound cheerful. He really did.
He heard Varric walking closer. "Nice try, Hawke. .. Hey. Look at me. Still thinking about your mother..?"
He felt the dwarf sit down on the bed next to him. Hawke took a deep breath, and forced himself to look at Varric, feeling just a bit ashamed. He knew he had to look like hell. He hadn't slept well in days, in addition to having been crying. "Ah.. among other things, yes."
"Shit, Hawke.." The dwarf rested a hand on Hawke's shoulder.
Impulsively, Hawke leaned heavily against his short friend. Varric blinked, a little surprised, and pulled the human down into a hug. Hawke hugged onto the dwarf tightly, more grateful for the company than he would have been for any words.
Perhaps he wasn't really alone.