Hawke wasn't entirely sure what had happened. All she knew was that when she opened her eyes, she wasn't in the bedroom in Sebastian's estate anymore; not exactly. Her eyes fluttered open and she put a hand to her forehead for a long moment, feeling lightheaded and a little woozy. Slowly she dropped her hand and pushed herself up – from a bed it seemed. She swung her legs over the edge and blinked rapidly as the room came into focus; it was the same room as she had been in, save the lack of furniture. The room was empty, all except for the bed she was sitting on. It seemed misty, foggy, though she knew it was not. She swallowed. There was only one explanation – she was in the Fade.

The realization made her jolt. What had happened? The last thing she remembered was holding her daughter and Anders' taking the girl's small hand in his own. Then she woke up here. Eyes widening, she jumped up from the bed and raced to the door, flinging it open without a care. "Cerene! Cerene!" She screamed out her daughter's name and ran down the long hallway until she came to a singular door. Panting, she flung the door open, tears in her eyes; where had her daughter disappeared to? The room she came into now was achingly familiar. Anders' clinic was laid out before her, empty save for the two or three cots that had always housed low income patients, mages; anyone who came calling for the mage's healing power.

On each cot sat Anders. Yes, there were three of them; she blinked several times just to make sure. All of their backs were to her, elbows braced on knees, heads held in hands. One was sobbing, another laughing, and one just sat as still as a marble statue. She stared, not sure how to proceed; a mage was to never trust the Fade. Things were never as they seemed. One of these could have been the real Anders, but at the same time, he may not have been any of them, just shadows of his self.

"Anders?" She said cautiously, her voice echoing hauntingly in the small room.

Each of the Anders raised their heads, all turning to look at her in unison. One continued to cry, she could see the tears running from amber eyes. One continued to laugh, even more when he saw her. The other just stared, an unreadable expression on his face. "Ah, Hawke," they all said at once. They all stood and moved toward her; subconsciously her fingers twitched in defense, but they just simply came to stand before her, side by side.

"I regret everything," the sobbing one said sadly.

"I regret nothing!" The laughing exclaimed.

"I don't know what to do, who am I really?" The stoic one asked her.

"Anders…?" She stared at them cautiously.

"I wanted to love her, I wanted to be with her, I wanted to be free, save the mages; I never wanted to kill anyone," he sobbed.

"She loved Fenris! She was with Fenris! I had to make them all pay! The mages had to be free, no matter who had to die!" He laughed.

"Should I tell her? Should I continue to love her or let her be with Fenris? Can I kill to keep the mages free? What should I do?" He asked of her.

Hawke felt dizzy, almost overwhelmed. These must have been parts of Anders. His Regret, his Instability, and his Indecision, she decided. She hugged the sobbing one and whispered words of comfort in his ear, stroking his hair. He smiled softly and disappeared. Turning to the one of Indecision, she held his face in her hands and looked him dead in the eyes, explaining to him in soft words that he had to find his path and stick to it, believe in his choices and do what he thought was right. He, too, smiled and faded away. Instability stared at her, then began laughing maniacally, shaking his head and backing away from her. Despite his actions and his words, she held her arms open for him; the gesture was enough for the shard of Anders to see that she accepted him, despite his flaws. A smile and then he was gone. Hawke was standing in the clinic alone, but opposite of her in the wall was now a door. Her worry for her daughter spurred her own fast feet to the handle, flinging the door open as she had the others. A light blinded her and she winced, covering her eyes with her arms.

The light faded and she saw Anders again, this time standing in the study of her hightown home. He was leafing through a book in front of the fireplace, this fixture the only in the room; they always seemed to be empty besides key pieces. What was going on? Why was she seeing Anders over and over again? She cautiously approached this Anders, again not sure if it really was him or not.

"Go away," this Anders murmured. "I don't need your help. I don't need the Wardens. I don't need anyone. I can do it all on my own." He flipped a page of the book. A tear slid down his cheek and it was instantly that Hawke knew this was Loneliness.

"Oh, Anders," she whispered his name sadly and stepped up beside him, laying her hand on his arm. "You never have to do anything alone. I am your friend and I would do anything I could to help you. That's what friends do. I care about you. I would never see you suffer. I would help you with anything that was within my power, as I am helping you now, I hope. You don't have to be alone."

"Hawke…I knew I could count on you," Loneliness whispered before he disappeared from under her touch. The fireplace faded, a door replacing it just soon after. Swallowing hard, Hawke walked to it and opened it to find Anders standing directly in front of her.

"Why should I trust you?" He snapped out, angry with her for what she did not know. "You may be a mage, but I don't know you! You could turn me into the Templars in a moment's notice! You could turn your back on your kind, I have seen it before!"

Distrust; that had to be who this Anders was, she knew. "Anders, you can trust me. I know I fled Kirkwall, but did I not stand by your side every moment before that? Did I not risk my own happiness? I saved mages time and time again, even though it pushed the man I love further away from me. I tried to save, Karl, remember? I fought and killed those Templars who made him Tranquil. I would do it again with no hesitation."

"Yes, Karl," Distrust whispered, embracing her before he faded away.

What exactly was going on? Why was she running into piece after piece of Anders? Was he in the Fade with her? Was her daughter? She trembled and briefly hugged herself. How she hated the Fade. There was no way to tell what was real and what wasn't; it was all a matter of perception. Was she putting Anders back together, or just facing illusion after illusion? It could be an elaborate ruse, specifically designed by a demon to keep her busy and distracted. Raising her eyes, she saw she was standing in another hall. This time she did not race, but simply walked along the wall. It seemed to go on forever and she wondered briefly if she had failed, and forever cursed to wander the Fade.

As that thought went through her head she suddenly found herself standing in front of a large door, big enough to fit an ogre through. She tried desperately to push it open, but couldn't. Looking around, she saw that this was the only way for her to go as the hall behind her had turned into a dead end. She tried to open the door again to no avail. Stifling a sob, she fell to her knees and sighed; then she felt hands on her and she was standing again. Looking around her, she saw all the Anders shards she had saved. They all smiled to her and nodded toward the door. She nodded back, pressing her hands to it. They set their hands on top of hers and all together they pushed. The door barely budged, but the only pushed harder and harder until it finally opened enough to allow her through. When she turned back to thanks Anders, she found she was alone. She smiled to herself and turned back, sliding through the Hawke-sized crack in the door.

Cerene was dancing in the center of the room around a Rage Demon, clapping her hands while a fire blazed around her slight form, very similar to the way it had the day she'd set the stables ablaze. The sight made Hawke tremble and she yelled her daughter's name, darting forward, her staff suddenly appearing in her hand. Cerene looked up at her with that strange stare and giggled, before turning and fleeing, disappearing. Hawke cried out in denial, but was then flung back by the Rage demon. She hit the wall and then the floor, a groan escaping her lips. She pushed herself to her feet as the demon came at her, roaring. She spun her staff and blasted the demon with a Winter's Grasp, freezing the fire –forged demon for the split second she needed to blast it with Fist of the Maker; it wasn't often that Hawke used her Force Mage abilities, but she needed to shatter this pain in the ass. And indeed she did. The force fist hit the Rage demon and it shattered like beautiful glass, falling to shards on the ground. Hawke bolted forward through another door, coming to stand within her old bedroom in her old home, her hightown home once again.

The only fixture this time was her bed, the very same one where she had conceived her child.

She saw herself in that bed, lying asleep with tear-stained cheeks, a pillow hugged to her chest. It must have been that night, the very same one that had resulted in her child. It made her heart ache to remember the way she'd felt when Fenris had left her there, claiming that their shared night had been a mistake and never should have happened in the first place. Even as she watched, Anders walked right on by her toward the bed.

She jerked. Anders hadn't been in her room that night. No one had. She'd made sure of that. As she watched the Anders approached the bed and knelt beside her sleeping self. He leaned down and whispered something to the sleeping Hawke, before cupping her cheek. His hand slid slowly down, along her jaw, her neck, her breasts – watching this she flushed red – before coming to rest on her abdomen. He was whispering again, his hand beginning to glow blue; the light grew brighter and brighter before it released, disappearing into the sleeping Hawke's body. Anders stilled then and slowly turned his head to look at her, Hawke's very soul chilling to ice when she saw those glowing blue eyes. An evil smile crawled across that handsome face, before the room disappeared and she found herself standing an empty, stone walled room.

Was that an illusion of the Fade, or a memory? Had Justice done something to her baby?

Hawke shuddered and walked along each wall of the room, looking for an exit but finding nothing. She tried blasting the walls with fireballs, but nothing budged. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light and when she was able to see again, Anders was standing in the center of the room. When he saw her, he gave a cry and rushed to her, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly.

"Hawke! Oh dear Maker, Hawke. I'm glad you're safe!" He cried as he held her. Suddenly he stilled and held her back at arm's length. He studied her for a very long moment. "Wait. This is the real you, isn't it?" he choked out.

"I could ask the same thing of you," she sobbed, hugging him to her as he had hugged her to him a moment before.

"Thank the Maker," he whispered.

After a moment, they pulled away to survey the room together. "How did you get in here?" Hawke asked as she slid her fingers across stone after stone.

"I'm not sure exactly. I saw you collapse, then your daughter, and then I woke up in a bed here in the Fade. I kept crossing you…or so I thought. It was like pieces of you," he said as he did what she did, feeling along for any switch or crack in the stones.

"It's been the same for me," she confessed. "The only difference was I saw Cerene; she was surrounded by fire and dancing with a Rage demon. I don't want her to be possessed. I can't bear to think of my baby as an abomination."

Anders froze and frowned at the stones. "I've never heard of such a thing…to dance with a demon. Though I have to confess to you, I have never seen a child abomination, or heard of one."

Hawke shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself; her precious daughter an abomination? Never! She swallowed and then turned to look at Anders' back as he resumed his search of the wall. "Anders…did you come to see me at all that night I left Kirkwall?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Not that I can recall. I was busy with a patient in the clinic if I remember correctly."

She frowned and glared at the floor. Was the Fade playing tricks on her? It could very well be, she'd never know for sure. But then again, the Fade would often reveal hidden things to masterful mages, or demons would offer up important memories as a lure to lead them into temptation. Very cautiously, she tried another approach.

"Had…Had Justice taken control from you at any point before the Chantry explosion?"

She saw Anders stiffen and shake his head quickly, denying the possibility; the quickness of his denial made her shiver. "The Chantry was the first…" he whispered, "…that I remember."

Oh Dear Maker. Her head spun. So that memory could have been real and Anders would never have known that Justice had snuck into her room and done something to her baby. Had the spirit done something? Or was Hawke just becoming paranoid, uneasy, piecing together pieces of a puzzle that didn't exist?

Anders turned to face her, but they both cringed as the room burst with a flash of light. They covered their eyes and when the light faded, and let their arms drop, they found themselves standing in a room much like the Warden-Commander's throne room at Vigil's Keep; how Hawke knew that, she didn't know. Sitting in the high backed chair where the Warden-Commander, the Hero of Fereldan, would pass her judgments was Justice. Legs crossed and arms folded across his chest, the spirit watched the two of them from his perch. Hawke was surprised to see that the spirit had chosen to keep Anders' form in the Fade, those glowing blue eyes locked on them like a hunter who'd found his prey. While Anders wore the gold coat and breeches he had always worn, Justice was dressed head to toe in the same clothes, but they were stark black, and on his head he wore the Warden's helm, wings coming from each side of the helmet. Hawke shivered as a chill raced down her spine.

"Justice," she whispered, stepping closer to Anders until she could grab his arm in her own.

"So glad to see that you recognize me," Justice chuckled.

"Did you pull us here?" Anders asked, furious. His fists were clenched and Hawke could feel how his body trembled with anger.

"In a manner of speaking."

"Where is my daughter?" Hawke asked, releasing Anders and daring to take a few steps toward the throne with her staff clenched in her hands.

Justice chuckled again and swept his hand out in an arch until it pointed toward a door. As if on cue, Cerene came skipping through the door, on fire as Hawke had seen before. Those flaring red eyes were watching Hawke as the young girl came to stand just beside Justice. The spirit touched the girl's head with affection and Hawke's heart turned to ice in her chest.

"What did you do to her?" she screamed, Anders mirroring her words a second after her. They were both trembling with barely suppressed rage.

"Just as I am Justice, a spirit of the Fade; there are others. Virtue, Love, Anger, Revenge, Lust, Affection – any fleeting emotion you could think of, there is a spirit for." Justice continued to pet the girl's hair and she nuzzled into his hand as a tear rolled down Hawke's cheek. "What you saw was indeed a memory, Hawke. That night you fucked that elf, I knew you would conceive, just as I knew your child would be a mage. The magic in your family was just too powerful for your child to end up not being magically inclined. I slipped into your room that night and planted a beacon in your womb, where is nestled safely in the embryo in which your daughter formed from. She could be what you would call my…failsafe." He paused for a moment, basking in the sorrow that was now emanating from the two mages before him. Ruthless now, he continued. "Once I merged with Anders, I was no longer Justice, but Vengeance, so I sought to make sure there was a way to continue my…line, should something happen to me. Say like, you and Anders plotting to separate me from my host and forcing me back to the Fade." He laughed and gently patted Cerene's head, before giving the girl a gentle nudge to step forth. "This spitfire whom I called to take home in your daughter is the spirit of Destruction."

"A pleasure to meet you," the angelic voice said as the girl dipped into a mock curtsy, giggling all the while.

D:

I hate Justice! *Pouts*

Review please! I didn't want to stop here but I am tired! So much writing in one night.