Summary:

Cullen finds his way to the Chantry seeking clarity.
Rylen is left to deal with the aftermath.


Notes:

TW - This is not a happy chapter, but it was necessary to get to where we're going. The good news is... after this? The only direction we can go is up!

It will get better, I promise.

Keep in mind that "and they lived happily ever after" is my middle name. ;)
Ok, not really - that would be terribly awkward. But still, it will all be okay!
I promise.


Cocktails & Cheese

Cullen and Alistair - A Modern Day AU

Chapter 52

Mishaps & Misfortune - Part 9


Cullen hung his head in his hands. He'd really fucked up this time. He didn't mean to be so petty, but once the words started flowing... He let his fear and his anger lead him on. In trying to avoid the one thing he'd been dreading most — losing Alistair - he'd catapulted that thing into reality. Dorian was right, he'd unintentionally fulfilled his own prophecy.

With a deep sigh, Cullen picked up his phone and sent a quick message to Dorian.

[16:15]

Cullen: I need a place to stay tonight.

His phone rang immediately. "What happened? What's wrong?" Dorian asked.

"Can I stay with you tonight or not? ...I could get a hotel," Cullen responded, tersely.

Softer, yet sternly, Dorian answered, "You know that you're welcome with me anytime, Cullen. But you also know that I don't deserve that tone from you. Try again and give me something better to work with."

Cullen rubbed his temple. "I'm sorry, Dorian. You're right. It's just that… I fucked up. I really fucked up, so much so that Alistair asked me to find someplace else to sleep tonight. Can I give you the details when I see you?"

"That would be acceptable," Dorian said. "What time should I expect you?"

"I don't know. I have so much work to do. And with recent… developments, I think I may need to stop by the Chantry too."

"To see Mother Natalie?"

"No. This time it's just for me. It's been a while and I'm hoping-"

"Hoping to find some clarity?" Dorian interrupted.

"Something like that. You know me too well."

Dorian chuckled. "Yeah, I do. And I'm glad that you're doing this for yourself. You always seem to find answers in the quiet of those halls. I hope it helps you tonight, too."

"I have my faith. Everything else will figure itself out, right?"

"It might take some outside work too, but yeah, it's not a bad place for you to start."

Dorian's words were comforting, but Cullen still sighed heavily.

"Hey," Dorian said. "I want you to do me a favor between now and when I see you tonight."

"If it's within my power, all you have to do is ask; you know that."

"I do, but this isn't for me. I want you to remember that whatever it is that's going on right now… it's only temporary. It doesn't control you, nor does it define you. You will get through this. Understand? You've gotten through worse."

"Okay. I'll do my best. Thanks again. I will see you tonight." Cullen hung up without waiting for a response and rested his head on his arms. "I really need to get my shit together," he groaned.

It was dark by the time Cullen finished his paperwork and made his way over to the Chantry. The air was crisp and the streets were strangely quiet, but he noticed none of it as he trudged the familiar path. With his hands deep in the pockets of his blazer, Cullen only felt the weight of his actions and words pressing down on him.

Stepping through the ancient doors, he felt a warmth envelope him. It wasn't relief; all of his worries weren't miraculously lifted. It was more like an old friend, wrapping him in a warm embrace, telling him it was going to be okay. The tightness in his shoulders relaxed a bit, but not enough to lift the full weight of his heavy heart.

The last few times he'd been to the chantry, Mother Natalie met him and Alistair at the door. This time, all that met him was a peaceful silence. He stopped at the end of the isle and knelt in supplication. He'd come here so many times before, not feeling worthy of Andraste's love, yet being welcomed every time. Today, he felt even more unworthy than usual. With a shaky breath, he got back to his feet and made his way toward the statue of Andraste at the front of the room. Picking the most appropriate chant, he began speaking before his knees even hit the cushion.

Losing himself in the familiar cadence of the verse, Cullen finally let go of the stress and pressure he'd been feeling. The weight of the world was no longer resting on his shoulders. He was a man -no more, no less- allowed to make mistakes with the choice on how to move forward from them. He was certain that he loved Alistair more than anything; he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his fears were what pushed him toward making those brash comments earlier. Alistair didn't deserve any of it. It was unfair to him… and to Anders. Neither had done anything to earn his ire. That was all on him.

The chant stilled on his tongue at that thought. Anders was here of his own free will, to assist and help with a young woman whose life had been threatened. Even in the face of Cullen's biting tongue and stilted temper, Anders remained professional, trying to help for no other reason than because it was the right thing to do.

Cullen checked his watch. With a heavy sigh, he realized that he had a lot of apologizing to do; he just wished it wasn't so late, because he needed to do it sooner rather than later. Alistair was at work; Anders, most likely, was either at the bar or above it, if what Alistair said was true. No, not if . Alistair said that Anders would be staying in the loft. There was no reason for him to believe otherwise. Dorian was expecting him, but he needed to try to fix this tonight.

With a determination he hadn't felt in a while, Cullen smiled up at the statue of Andraste and whispered, "Thank you".

"I'm sure, if she could talk, she would tell you that you're welcome." Mother Natalie smiled placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You look much lighter than when you first walked in. I was a little concerned when I saw you. You looked like a man on a mission; I didn't want to interrupt."

Cullen returned her smile. "It's good to see you, Mother Natalie. And yes, she's brought me some clarity." He indicated the statue. "I've been so stupid."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I've been letting my fears and what-ifs guide me and not paying attention to the wonder before me. I made some comments that were insensitive and abrupt, but now I know what I need to do to fix things."

"You are a good man, Cullen." She looked up at the statue. "I've found much peace and solace here at our Lady's feet, myself."

Cullen looked back up at the statue in reverence. "I came here to seek comfort and to find my way. I asked for guidance and she's given me that and so much more." He took Mother Natalie's hands in his, climbing to his feet. "My faith in the Maker and his methods have never wavered, though tonight I feel as though his light is shining on me brightly."

"Your light has always shined brightly, child. Never lose that spark of life." She patted his cheek, affectionately.

"Forgive me for not staying and visiting longer; there's something I need to do." He kissed her knuckles, then one of her cheeks and beamed at her before practically skipping off down the aisle toward the door.

Cullen raced down the steps and across the park, removing his blazer as he went. He needed to freshen up and change before seeing Alistair. He was so intent on getting to his Jeep -so lost in his thoughts- Cullen didn't notice the figures lurking in the shadows, biding their time. The first strike was sudden, stunning him and dropping him to his knees. The next few came in quick succession, so fast that he didn't have time to summon the smite that would have protected him.

The last thing he saw - A face he recognized all too well, sneering down at him.

The last thing he realized - The ominous presence in his dreams was not Anders. It was fucking Nicholas Mac Tir.

The last thing he thought before the world went dark - Well...shit!


Rylen sat in the coffee shop at the edge of the park, around the corner from his work. He was waiting for his wife to finish up after the closing shift. From the first second she realized she was pregnant, the smell of fresh brewed coffee made her ill. It made it impossible for her to work during the coffee house's open hours and Rylen didn't want to worry about her coming home at night by herself. He knew she could take care of herself, but it was safer in pairs, and he wasn't about to risk his unborn child. Jan had hired on some additional staff to cover the daytime shifts until her morning sickness abated. He hoped that it went away soon; he was tired of living on the coffee at the station, especially since he was making triple the amount lately to counter Cullen's sleep deprived grumpiness.

Sipping his tea, Rylen was worrying over Cullen's recent behaviors, when the strong smell of something burnt and bitter hit his tongue. His cup crashed to the floor and his vision whited out with intense pain; flashes of Cullen… battered and beaten… left for dead… close…

It's not too late!

Jan was instantly at his side, asking what was wrong. Rylen didn't have time to explain; he didn't have long. Cullen was…

"Call an ambulance," he ordered. "Tell them I said to meet me in the park, there's an officer down. Stay here and lock the door until I get back." He didn't wait for an answer as he stumbled out into the night, drawing his gun, and thanking the Maker -and whatever other gods were out there- that Jan hurried to comply and didn't stop to ask him any questions he wasn't prepared to answer.

The pain, the burnt taste of bitter longing, drew him further into the park. He followed the familiar path that Cullen took between the chantry and the precinct, knowing he'd be somewhere along the well worn trail.

He wasn't wrong.

He found Cullen unconscious, just a little off the path. Rylen made sure there was no one else around before holstering his weapon and kneeling next to Cullen. Finding a weak pulse, he sighed with relief. There was blood flowing freely out of multiple places on Cullen's body; the most worrisome was the blood seeping from his mouth, nose, and ears. Rylen was ill equipped to do anything about those.

Seeing Cullen's coat close by, he grabbed onto it with his mind and drug it over to drape it across Cullen's body. Rylen applied pressure to the lacerations he could see and hoped the little he was able to do was enough to help Cullen until he could get the care he so desperately needed.

The sirens in the distance were steadily growing closer as Rylen did his best to keep Cullen with him; tried to keep him warm. He hoped help got there quickly, because he didn't know how long Cullen would be able to hang on.

With a strangled cry, Rylen tried to reach out to Lana with his mind. But she was too far and he was too overwhelmed to concentrate. His mouth tasted awful and he hurt everywhere, but if he was only tasting and feeling a fraction of what Cullen was feeling…

He took a few deep breaths and tried to reach Lana again, to no avail.

He was desperate and frantic, but he'd done all that was within his power to do. All he could do now was stay with Cullen and hope that when he finally did get ahold of Lana and Alistair that he wouldn't have the worst kind of news to share with them.

With a shuddering sob, he realized that when Alistair left earlier, it was in a fit of rage. Surely something like this would overcome any lover's spat that they'd had in the office? Pressing his forehead to Cullen's, Rylen did something that he hadn't done in a very long time. He prayed. He prayed that the ambulance arrived swiftly. He prayed that Cullen would survive this ordeal. And beyond that, he prayed that he would be able to track down the bastards that did this and bring them to justice.

When the paramedics arrived, Rylen gave them what information he had and instructed them which hospital to take the Commander to so he could have a guard set up outside his room. Before they hauled Cullen away on the stretcher, Rylen found a small scrap of cloth hidden inside one of his tightly clenched fists. Slipping it into his pocket, he hoped it turned into a promising lead.

Gathering Jan from the coffee shop, Rylen hurried over to the precinct where Merrill already had things in motion. As stripped raw as he felt, he was incredibly grateful for Merrill's efficiency. In a short period of time, she'd arranged a ride home for Jan, guards were on their way to the hospital to watch over Cullen, and her keys were in hand ready to take Rylen downtown. He was dreading what he had to do next, but a phone call wasn't going to suffice.

He had to tell Alistair.


End Notes:

So... a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... Ponticle said to me... "You know what would be great? If you put one of your boys in the hospital! Y'know - after they have a fight, so the other one feels really shitty about it." - ok those weren't their exact words - but it was that conversation that sparked this chapter and though I love how much Ponticle supports me, it's days like this - when I've just finished putting my boys through all this shit - that I seriously wonder, wtf am I doing?! And then I keep reading and writing, and yes - fuckin Ponticle is always right! (Aurlana says, affectionately). Because as painful as this story is, these two will absolutely be that much stronger for all the trials that they endure together. So Ponticle I both hate you and fucking love you tonight! And now... I need wine. Or maybe something stronger. Yes... I think it's time for some rum. (it is not gone).

Also, FYI... no dolls were harmed in the making of the images that go with this chapter. (Cullen's shirt, however, might need to be re-sewn) ;) - If you would like to see the accompanying images, please find me on Twitter: Aurlana1, or Instagram: Aurlana1313. :)