Note: I play with Isabela's retexture that actually makes her look like a black woman, not Bioware's white-washed version. So, in this canon, her hair's curly.

Evening, Fenris's Mansion

Fenris went inside, and a bucket of beer slop fell on his head. Immediately, he heard snickering up high, and Zath was running away with his boys on a nearby roof.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you, you little shit!" Fenris shouted after him.

"Who was that?" Isabela said, laughing.

"A little shit," he said cuttingly, going back inside with fists formed.

"Making friends in the Alienage?" she said, following him.

"Stop," he said. He went to a curtain and pulled one of the cords. A grand chorus of satisfying clicks echoed through the mansion.

"Jeez," she said, crossing her arms. "Remember the times you only had two lousy harpoons?"

"I upgraded," Fenris said with a little abrupt smile, going up the stairs.

Isabela scoffed. "Lucky brats. You almost came home to a pile of teenage gut stew."

The question was—did they not go further in out of fear, or out of… knowing? If it was the latter, he was going to work Lia to the bone from now on.

He forgot to light the torches in the hall. He just went in his bedroom, full of paranoia, checking his things, inspecting them, smelling them. No sign of interference. Good. At the very least, Fenris would have broken Zath's arm. Make sure he never forgot that.

"Oh, sweet Maker, what are you like?" Isabela said, holding back a laugh as she walked in.

"Lights—" Fenris said, and stopped, holding onto the bridge of his nose. "Damn it…"

Hawke made it so easy.

"Flowers pots?" Isabela said, covering her mouth. She looked at the fireplace. "And colourful candles?"

Fenris proceeded, without any effort of concealing his irritation, to light every candle in the fireplace. "What did you expect? That I'd make her sleep in a sad room full of cobwebs?"

"Who are you lighting them for? Me?" Isabela said, amused.

"No," Fenris said flatly, doing the last candle. "I don't like change."

He fell in his armchair, upset and so, so tired. He put an arm over his face.

"Stay there," Isabela said.

"I wasn't planning on going anywhere," Fenris said grumpily.

This was not the night he had pictured. Angry and hurt and not with Hawke at the end of the day.

And what a day…

He watched it go by, like a carriage-wreck in slow motion. The scenes played out in the swirling darkness of his eyes, again and again and again. How he tried so hard to abide by her wishes, even as he was dying with hate—both in the templar and the mage's case. How he put all his strength into controlling himself and got punished, while Anders lost all control and got rewarded. How he tried to make Hawke see reason, and she wouldn't hear any of it. How petty he became for a moment… And the coup de grace, a furious, soul-sucking, hurtful Hawke telling him what he feared to be deep down. He felt like laughing.

The smell of nice coffee eventually made him join the land of the seeing.

"Thank you," he said, taking it from the little bench.

"Why do you like Qunari coffee?" Isabela said.

"I don't know," Fenris said flatly, drinking. "How did you know I like it?"

"Hawke's orders," Isabela said, shrugging.

Fenris made a bittersweet smile.

"Do you…?" he said, looking up at her, thinking. "Do you supply Hawke with…?"

"Wow," Isabela said, mock serious. "Now who's being racist?"

Fenris pursed his lips. "Touché."

"Is the coffee not working, or do you just want to check out?"

"You were here today, weren't you?"

"It was a shitstorm of shitty shyte. But I don't have any, anyway."

"Maybe you could procure some for me…"

Isabela squinted. "Yeah… no…"

"Why not?" Fenris said, drinking. "You don't give a shit."

"Yeah, I couldn't care less, but if Hawke finds out, I'm dead."

He rolled his eyes as he looked away. "I think we all have bigger problems right now."

"Yeah… not the best time to start a habit. You seem like a man with an addictive personality."

Hawke had already talked to Isabela then. Made extra sure to create barriers for him. What a little hypocrite. Sweet, but still a hypocrite.

She has her own addiction to battle and she's doing well, the boring band-aid bath guy said.

Still, it's a little controlling, don't you think? the gruff one said.

He's addicted to sadness, the boring band-aid bath guy said. Enough is enough.

Evening, Hightown

Donnic was on his penultimate night doing Hightown. He couldn't wait to stop coming here. Gregory, once again, was very chill. He was an older Guardsman contemplating retirement. He was a very sweet guy, but other than that, he and Donnic were fundamentally incompatible.

"Going to make a quick stop at the DeLauncets," Gregory said. "The Mrs said she's knitted matching frog sweaters for me and my youngest."

He missed Brennan so much.

"Fine," Donnic said with half-lidded eyes. "I'll be outside."

"Suit yourself."

But being alone with his thoughts wasn't a good idea. He started smoking again, and engaged in rigorous self-flagellation. He opened his notepad and started wading through his tasks. Another page turned up and he was looking at a silly poem he wrote Aveline on a lunch break. He was going to recite it to her the evening of the day he told her the dread L world. So much for that.

Then he remembered whose walls he was leaning on, and an evil smile built up on his face.

Evening, Fenris's Mansion

Isabela kept talking about her old crew, and Fenris was getting sleepy. His eyes fell. His head was next.

"I'm sorry. Since when do you look at tits?" Isabela said, laughing.

Fenris scoffed, closing his eyes as his head fell back on the armchair. "I don't look at your tits."

After a brief period of silence, he heard her say, "That was good, what you said to Hawke. Well… the sentiment, anyway."

"Was it?"

"Someone needed to say something. It wasn't going to be me."

Fenris brushed up his bangs. "Why do I always have to be the asshole?" he snapped.

"Well, you devoted years to that image," Isabela said, chuckling. "What did you expect?"

"Change," Fenris answered quickly, betraying his earlier statement.

Like what the fuck was Varric doing? He just stood there, like a little bitch, pretending he was somewhere else.

"You have changed," Isabela said, raising an eyebrow. "It's very obvious."

"Is it?"

"Please," Isabela said, laughing. "Never in a million years would I have pictured you being civil with Anders—"

Fenris scoffed, widening his legs. "Well, that's done."

Isabela laughed. "It lasted only a few days, which is a few days more than I thought it would. Not to mention you took care of Hawke when she was sick."

Fenris raised an eyebrow. What else was he going to do? Just go home and have a wank?

"You went through all of Kirkwall banding us together to come visit," Isabela went on.

Fenris scoffed. "And you all looked at me like I was asking for bacon-flavoured candles in the shape of tiny baby hands," he said sarcastically.

Isabela couldn't decide between a confused face and a disturbed face.

"There it is."

"And that's not a sign to you, that you've changed?"

"No. It's a sign you are misinformed."

Isabela scoffed. "Let's get my facts straight then," she said, counting on her fingers. "Your bedroom looks like a Tevinter fuckpad. I hear you cook for Hawke. You're going out with her in public. You could not let go of her in the tunnel. You're not arguing about magic anymore." She closed an eye. "Ish. But then Merrill had also mentioned before we left that you'd offered to watch over her as she does the ritual so Hawke wouldn't live with any regrets." She pursed her lips and shook her head, while Fenris felt he was being given the softest savage reading in history. "You're not the little arsehole I met three years ago."

"The question is—have I changed for the better?"

"It's all relative, isn't it?"

Fenris's jaw clenched. "So it seems," he said, drinking.

"Personally, I don't care for it," Isabela said, flashing her eyebrows in displeasure.

"Aww," Fenris said cruelly, sitting himself horizontally over the armchair and crossing his arms. "The Tevinter with no heart finds a spare and the pirate with no scruples is left out to dry."

"It's fine," Isabela said, chuckling. "I'm unique now."

"Are you?" he said, narrowing his eyes. "You're here with no ulterior motive. When has that happened before?"

"I'm here because Hawke told me to."

"You offered."

"Well, maybe I have an ulterior motive," Isabela said with a teasing grin.

"Right," Fenris said, smiling smugly. "You're here to seduce me again. Go on. Seduce me."

Isabela scoffed. "I'm not suicidal, thank you very much," she said, chuckling. "Besides, you don't do anything for me anymore. You used to be a hardened, tortured twink. Now you're just a sad, puppy-eyed twink."

Fenris played with his bangs and looked up, pretending to think. "I do sound incredible."

Isabela laughed.

"Maybe you just have shit taste in people," he said flatly.

"Oo," she said sneeringly. "We're getting deep now."

Fenris scoffed, letting go of his bangs. "I'm too tired to turn this around. Talk about your old crew again, so I can get some sleep," he said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms.

"And we're back to jerkface!" Isabela said with mock excitement.

"Oh no," Fenris said sarcastically. "Keep your hands to yourself now."

All of a sudden, there was the sound of rocks banging against his window.

Fenris opened his eyes. He had just discovered it was possible to growl a sigh. "I'm going to kill that kid," he said, coming up.

He opened the window, but there was no mortal-shaped teenage excrement. It was a Donnic-shaped delight.

"Whenever I see your eyes, there is something that I feel!" Donnic read from his notepad with pathos.

Did he say delight? He meant dumbass.

"What?" Fenris said flatly.

"What?" Isabela said, laughing from afar.

"You look so damn grumpy, like a cat without a meal!" Donnic recited and gesticulated with love.

"What is happening right now?" Fenris said morosely.

"Serah, I know you're trying to seduce me," Donnic said with high, nonchalant eyebrows. "But I'm a modern man, and this is a two-way street. So," he went on confidently, clearing his throat. "I want to wrap you in a blanket and stroke your hair to sleep!"

Fenris put his head on the windowsill, laughing. Isabela joined him.

"I want to tell you you're pretty; you say beauty's skin-deep!" Donnic vociferated.

"So pretty," Isabela said mockingly, stroking Fenris's hair. He slapped her hand away in annoyance.

"I want to call you my lady; you threaten me with autopsy!" Donnic read.

Amidst the ever-increasing laughter, Isabela knocked over his beloved violets. Fenris caught it and stared daggers at her.

"So, baby, baby," Donnic said, rocking his hips once and looking up. "Come on and skin me!"

Isabela applauded loudly, while Fenris finished face-palming.

"Oh, uh… hi there…" Donnic said coyly, brushing his hair.

"Come on up, jackass," Fenris said, chuckling.

"Ugh," Donnic said, walking in an exaggerated lazy manner. "I have to go all the way around?"

"Whining isn't attractive!" Fenris shouted after him.

"Well," Isabela said, wiping away a tear of laughter. "Colour me impressed, Mr Polyamorous."

Fenris scoffed. "Donnic's just a dickhead."

"You're… friends?"

"Problem?"

"Huh. It makes sense actually."

"Does it?"

"Opposites attract."

"Some opposites attract."

"Oh, please," Isabela said, making a raspberry. "You and Anders aren't opposites. You're the same whiny, tortured bitches that can't find anything else to talk about but mages."

"Are you leaving soon?" Fenris said, crossing his arms.

"Yes," Isabela said, laughing. "My job here is done."

"Great," Fenris said, showing her out.

As they went down the stairs, he started to feel like an ungrateful arse, and outwalked her to the bottom of the stairs. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned around to face her. "Thank you," he said shyly.

Isabella shrugged. "Don't mention it."

Something… happened to him. A quiet, world-shaking sense of deja-vu. Darkness enveloped her front as she stood tall above him. The chandelier made shadows above her curly head, a vague illusion of horns. His heart filled with vast, unknowable warmth, suddenly, and he smiled despite himself.

Then reality came back and hit him on the lips.

"What are you doing?" Fenris said curtly, pushing her away.

"I was testing you," Isabela said, hand on her hip, holding on the railing. "Relax. You passed."

"Should I… go…?" Donnic said behind them suddenly, scratching his head.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Fenris said, raising a finger behind him. He crossed his arms. "You were 'testing' me?"

"I don't do 'friendship' with hugs and poems," Isabela said, crossing her arms too. "I do the hard part."

Fenris scowled at her. "Get out," he said, pointing sharply at the door.

Isabela inhaled, then exhaled frustratedly. She left without another word.

Fenris buried his face in his hands. He turned to Donnic and brushed up his bangs. "Now I have to change my defence system again…"

Donnic's chin disappeared inside his neck. "You don't have to rewire the whole thing!"

"I need a fucking rewire!" Fenris snapped, banging on the banister.

"Why?" Donnic said, coming to him. "She kissed you, and you clearly did not like that."

Because where the fuck was he between stopping at the bottom of the stairs and the kiss attack? What was his alibi? Dizziness?

"Who knows what her side of the story will be," Fenris said, looking away. "I wouldn't put it past her."

"Well, whatever you do, don't try to hide this," Donnic said. "Tell Hawke as soon as possible, and stick to the facts."

"I don't want to see Hawke right now," Fenris said, going up the stairs.

Fenris offered Donnic wine, but he refused. The elf gave him tea and made himself cosy with the bottle.

"You do not look happy," Donnic said, very tense.

"No," Fenris said, drinking.

"What happened?" Donnic said, putting his legs on the bench.

Fenris mirrored him, then sighed. "I can't tell you. You're too… establishment."

"Well, just make it vague," Donnic said, shrugging.

He looked up, thinking it through. "Someone I know lost their temper and hurt Hawke, and I wanted to ki—punish them for their actions."

Donnic chuckled to himself. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

"But she did not agree with my decision," Fenris said, his jaw clenching. "She wanted to 'help' them," he said with a grimace, air-quotes and everything.

"Well," Donnic said, thinking. "She's the victim. It only really matters what she feels on the subject."

Fenris brooded. "Well, what if what she feels is stupid?" he said, shrugging.

Donnic laughed at him. "Did you say that to her face?"

"No," Fenris said, scoffing. He held the bottle close to his mouth and started thinking. "Maybe…?"

"So, you're just pouting because you didn't get your way?" Donnic said in amusement, drinking his tea.

"Well, how would you feel if some guy attacked your girlfriend?" Fenris snapped.

Donnic looked up, shrugging. "I'd pray for his soul. And his ballsack."

"What if she couldn't defend herself at the time?"

Donnic sighed, scratching his back. "I don't know…"

"You… fucking… liar," Fenris said curtly.

"Alright, fine," Donnic snapped, putting his cup down. "Would I want to kill the guy? Absolutely. But would I actually do it? No. Maybe I'd punch him."

"Thank you," Fenris said with a flat palm. The palm then made a fist and went close to his cold mouth. "At least I got to do that."

"And you're still pouting?" Donnic said, rolling his eyes. "Get over it."

Fenris slouched in his chair, sighing in annoyance. "I suggested she cut ties with this person, and she just… fucking flipped at me."

"Mmm," Donnic said, looking up. "Did you suggest it or did you tell her?"

Fenris glared at him. "Aren't you supposed to be on my side?"

"I don't know your side yet," Donnic said, laughing. "Answer the question."

"It was a stern suggestion," Fenris said, drinking.

"Alright," Donnic said, sighing. "So, she was upset at your… 'stern suggestion'."

"It was like I was suggesting to set fire to a basket of puppies!" Fenris complained, raising his hands.

"So you left?" Donnic said.

"No. I may have… incapacitated the perpetrator a little too hard," Fenris said, playing with his bangs. "And she took them back to her home. Said she was waiting for them to wake up and tell their side of the story."

"So this is a friend," Donnic said, nodding and thinking. He was starting to get an idea of who this 'perpetrator' might be. The hate in Fenris's hand was familiar.

"Some friend," Fenris said, scoffing. "Friends don't flip out and cut each other."

"Were they… drunk or something?" Donnic said, jaw in hand.

"Sure," Fenris said, drinking. "Let's go with that."

"So, this person you don't trust and clearly hate is still there now, and you… left?" Donnic said, squinting in confusion.

"I had to," Fenris said, rubbing his forehead. He looked down. "She said I was a selfish, jaded asshole."

"Oh," Donnic said, thinking. "That's not very nice."

"No it wasn't," Fenris said. He looked at the fireplace, exhaling angrily. "I am cynical. I will accept that. But I wasn't selfish."

"What were you, then?" Donnic said, rubbing his palms.

"I was…" Fenris said, offense building up on his face. "I was protecting her!"

"From what?" Donnic said, confused. "I thought you'd already knocked the fool out."

"From—" Fenris said angrily, looking away. "I don't know! From herself!"

"You think she's too soft on people," Donnic said.

"Yes," Fenris said firmly. "And you know what happens when you go soft and let your guard down," he said. He gave a short, horizontal slash with his hand. "They kill you. They kill you or they learn your weakness and take advantage."

"Forgive me for asking, but I'm confused," Donnic said, thinking. "Wasn't her 'softness' why you have all these friends and this house and whatnot?"

Fenris opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He brooded. "Yes..." he said weakly, then went to town. "But she was too soft from the start." He looked towards the window. It was going to be a full moon again soon. "I was an incredible arsehole to her when I found out she was a mage, and she still helped me. Invited me into her bloody home."

Donnic listened with entertainment.

"She came to check on me the next day," Fenris said disapprovingly, rubbing his forehead. "And lucky me, because I couldn't move anymore. She had to use force magic to will my muscles out of their coma."

"Oh, I've seen that before," Donnic said. "Guards standing tall with a hole in their stomach and an arm missing and then as soon as they're in a safe zone, falling flat in agony."

"I wasn't missing any limbs."

"No, but you had been on the run a long time, right?"

"I suppose." Fenris went on brooding. "I didn't deserve any of that. I told her she was a viper, and I didn't even know her," he said, shaking his head. "She took me in, even as she hated me."

"Did you bang on about mages being evil or something?" Donnic said.

"I'd been flirting with that extreme, yes," Fenris said with a shy smile. "But she said she 'couldn't take me seriously', because I was speaking out of trauma."

"Wait. Didn't take your beliefs seriously, or your trauma?"

"My beliefs."

"Huh," Donnic said, giving an impressed nod. "Stand up gal."

"Yeah, no shit," Fenris said sarcastically, grimacing at him. "I'm not an idiot. I recognise she's been… a good influence, for lack of a better word. But her need to help people is borderline pathologic."

"Is it?" Donnic said, frowning.

Fenris intertwined his fingers and nodded to himself. "It comes from a bad place, sometimes. If she'd done this, if she hadn't done that, maybe this one person from her past wouldn't have done a very bad thing."

"Ah, she has her own trauma."

Fenris nodded, looking down. His eyes were caring, bittersweet. "She's…" he said, looking away, "…been through enough. Let's leave it at that." He stared back at the fireplace. "So, I know," he insisted with a flat hand. "I know she's trying to correct for her mistakes. But she didn't turn to hate as I did. She turned to helping."

"I see," Donnic said, thinking.

"And while it's an admirable trait, I can't help but feel this will be her undoing," Fenris said, brushing his bangs. "Some people just have to be left to their own devices. You can't save everyone."

"No," Donnic said, shaking his head. "You can't. And you shouldn't try to. I agree with that. All you can do is offer tools."

"Tools?" Fenris said, frowning.

"Like if I catch a teenage punk—" Donnic said, gesticulating.

"You just missed one, Mr Guardsman," Fenris said.

"I'll get'im next time," Donnic said casually, brushing it off. "But when I do, I'm not going to try to save him. I might not punish him either, depending on the situation. But I will give him the tools to seek a different path. Like does he like woodworking? Maybe he could go apprentice for this carpenter I know. Or I'd learn about his living situation. Does he have parents looking after him? If not, maybe I could take him to the Chantry so they find him a place to live and give him some education. You see what I'm getting at?"

"I think so…?" Fenris said unsurely.

"You can give people the tools to change, but it's up to them to want to change and work on themselves," Donnic said. "If they refuse, then fine, I'll see you back in your cell. Have a nice life."

"Right…" Fenris said, unconvinced.

Donnic sighed. He came forward and folded his hands between his knees. "You know why I became a Guard?"

"For the pension?" Fenris said, drinking.

"I was a poor kid from Lowtown. Whether you want to or not, you end up doing crime," Donnic said, smiling to himself bittersweetly. "Then I ran with some mercenaries. Hated it. Absolutely hated it. Bastards just wanted to kill shit all day."

Fenris chuckled, bottle close to his mouth. "Let me guess. You wanted to 'talk about it'."

"Not at first. At first I was hit-happy. It made me a 'man'," Donnic said, making air-quotes. "But there was this older guy in the team, Ronnie. He was an ex-Guardsman. Whenever I was under him, there was no action. Guy could talk a lion into a hug," he said, chuckling nostalgically. "He had a bad leg; hurt on duty. Before that, his partner had died; he lost his marbles for a bit. Anyway, he got kicked off the force and had to think on his feet. He got really good at talking. And I watched him just… opening people up, making them tell him their deepest, darkest secrets. Said that's how his partner used to do it. And he reached the conclusion that, if he'd done this sooner, maybe he wouldn't have ended up crippled."

"Or he'd have been crippled sooner," Fenris insisted. "How did his partner die?"

"Cancer or something?" Donnic said. He couldn't remember.

"Right."

"He said I'd make a good Guard. That there were too many cut-happy Guards already, and what good did that do the community, if they couldn't trust them?"

"So you were going to be the good cop."

"Yeah, and it sucked," Donnic said, laughing to himself. "I mean Guard-Captain Ewald was an alright fellow, but Ronnie was right. A lot of them really were just criminals wearing a Guard uniform. My first partner," he said, laughing irreverently, "he said killing people was like showering. He did it once or twice a week, and he didn't think about it."

"Charming," Fenris said insincerely.

"Then it all went to shit when Jeven took over. He forced us to do overtime with no pay, stripped training to its bare essentials, and kept sending dumb recruits to Darktown. I spoke out against him, and he assigned me jobs he knew I'd hate, like evicting poor people out of their homes—"

"Or sending you to your death?" Fenris said, raising an eyebrow.

"Jee, how could I forget?" Donnic said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"So, what's your point?" Fenris said.

"I don't know," Donnic said, crossing his arms. "The ruling philosophy is when someone breaks the law, we need to seek retribution. An eye for eye, a tooth for a tooth. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime."

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Fenris said, drinking.

"But that's not the only way," Donnic said, shaking his head and thinking. "Most people that go through the system, they come out even worse. Recidivism is insanely high. I catch the same twelve arseholes every year. Either you're wrongfully convicted or a non-violent offender and you come out a monster, or you're a monster and you just got a PhD in crime sharing stories with other monsters."

"Or you could just kill them, and be done with it," Fenris said. "No more recidivism."

Donnic laughed derisively, shaking his head and licking his canine. "Haven't you ever fucked up?"

"Sure," Fenris said, shrugging uncomfortably.

"You think it would have helped anyone if you were killed?"

"No, but that's different," Fenris said. "I didn't know any better."

"Did that person know any better?"

"They knew enough, trust me."

"Well, either way," Donnic said, nodding to himself. "I'm more a fan of rehabilitation and restorative justice. Make the person see the full extent of the damage they've caused, make them understand what they did was wrong, have the victim take control if they wish and face their offender, seek a resolution together. Maybe the wrongdoer can do something for the victim to make things right. Most people aren't psychopaths, just some punks who grew up in a shitty environment with no role models."

Fenris laughed. "Why don't you invite them in a prayer circle too? Hold hands? Smoke a pipe?"

Donnic shrugged. "If it restores order, I'll smoke a pipe and talk to Andraste any day."

Fenris scoffed, shaking his head. "You are soft."

"And alive," Donnic insisted. "With 126 cases solved and only 31 confirmed kills. What does that tell you?"

Fenris sighed, scratching his head. "That if you're ever out of a job, Hawke will be on you like a moth to a flame."

"Really?" Donnic said, chuckling. "Hm. Good to know. But I thought she had a reputation."

Fenris shook his head tiredly. "That's just run-ins with gangs and traffickers. Most of the time it's talk, talk, talk."

Donnic smiled to himself. "So… what are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Fenris said, sighing. "I suppose we'll talk."

"And if she decides to stay friends with this person?"

Fenris scoffed and crossed his arms. "Then I'm not leaving her out of my fucking sight."

"Alright," Donnic said, chuckling. "Good luck with that."

"Right. Of course," Fenris said sarcastically, gesticulating. "I should just sit back, dick in my hand, and do nothing."

Donnic smacked his lips. "I feel like there's a lot of space between that and being a controlling prick."

"I'm not controlling," Fenris said, offended.

"Mate, you just said you wouldn't leave her out of your sight," Donnic said, laughing. "What do you think that makes you?"

"Concerned," Fenris said flatly.

"Alright, well," Donnic said, gesticulating flippantly, "I'm concerned that you'll be single soon."

"Fine. What should I do then?" Fenris said.

"You support her shitty decision, but tell her how you feel about it," Donnic said, raising a finger. "In a calm, diplomatic manner."

"Fine," Fenris said, sitting up and going to his desk. "Let's be fucking diplomatic."

"B minus start," Donnic said, following him and leaning on the desk.

Fenris grabbed his quill. "Ugh," he said. He went to the nightstand and brought a little painting of them both, resting it against the wall on the desk. It still didn't seem to work. "How do I start?"

"With what you feel for her," Donnic said casually.

"Alright," Fenris said firmly. He lost the firmness in the next minute. "Hawke, I… uh…"

"Come on, you know the words."

"I haven't… told her the words."

"Great," Donnic said tiredly, rolling his eyes. "Another one."

Fenris pursed his lips. "Do you… want to talk about it?"

"Shut up and start talking," Donnic said sternly.

"Hawke, I…" Fenris said, making sad puppy-eyes. He looked down and growled, making fists.

"Alright, let's just skip that," Donnic said, waving it off. "What do you feel about her decision? How did it make you feel?"

"Hawke, I think your decision was stupid and idiotic," Fenris said flatly.

"Hawke, I understand you feel people deserve second chances," Donnic translated, rubbing his eyes together, "and while I admire that greatly, I feel you have an unhealthy need to save people and it's making me afraid for your life."

Fenris wrote it down. "Alright," he sighed. He looked at the painting. "I wouldn't be the man I am today without that second chance."

"That's good. Keep that in," Donnic said.

"But when I saw you getting hurt, it made me see red," Fenris went on.

"But when I saw you getting hurt, it hurt me deeply, and I don't want that to happen to you again," Donnic translated.

"I know you think I'm jaded, but I'm not selfish," Fenris said. "All I give a shit about is you."

"I know you think I'm jaded, but I'm not selfish," Donnic repeated, then changed some words. "Your happiness and safety is the most important thing to me."

"So, please fucking use your brain!" Fenris said angrily.

"So, from the bottom of my heart, please try to think about what you're doing carefully," Donnic translated.

Fenris finished writing. He leaned back in his chair victoriously with the paper. "I sound so mature."

Donnic scoffed with crossed arms. "I made you sound mature. You were an idiot."

Fenris pursed his lips in a smile and held out his fist.

Donnic fist-bumped him. "Great. I need to actually do my job now." He pointed at him as he left. "Don't blow it."

There was a fifty-fifty chance he was going to blow it.

"Wait…" he heard Fenris say. He looked kind of vulnerable. "What if she doesn't believe me about…?"

"Well, I was there. You've got a witness," Donnic said, leaning on the doorway.

"Oh," Fenris said, chuckling to himself. He hadn't even thought of that. "Of course."

"But if she doesn't believe your testimony alone, then she doesn't trust you," Donnic said, pursing his lips. "And that's another conversation to have."

"Great," Fenris said flatly.

Sleep did not come. Fenris tossed and turned and banged his fist on the mattress. It just felt… abnormal. Abnormal and so, so cold. He was supposed to feel like a thousand degrees right now. Long hair was supposed to tickle his nose. He was supposed to be woken up by her snoring or talking in her sleep.

All the things that annoyed him he missed now with a passion.

Plus, he didn't know what to do with his arm. It wanted to wrap around something. Tough luck. What was he going to hug now? A pillow?

A pillow…

He grabbed Hawke's fluffy purple pillow and cuddled it. It smelled like desserts.

I thought he was mad at her, the gruff one said.

It's hard to stay mad right now, the boring band-aid bath guy said.

Sleep still didn't come.

Well, at least it's quiet now, the boring band-aid bath guy said.

You're funny, the hard-up grinning lunatic said.

HOW are you still here? the boring band-aid bath guy said.

I'm never going back, bitches, the hard-up grinning lunatic said.

Fenris put the pillow over his head.

The roof looked just like they'd left it. The rugs and blankets and such in a trunk to shield it from the rain, and a forgotten little bench. There was a leftover candle on the balustrade. Fenris lit a cigarillo in it and pondered in the night. There was barely a light in other people's houses. He saw Donnic disappear in the market district. Fenris felt he was ungenerous with his characterisations of Donnic. He was, above all else, a good man.

He looked for Hawke's roof. Empty...

"You are so not worth it," Fenris said to the fancy cigarillo, realising the tobacco industry was a scam. He was going to flick it, when all of a sudden, he thought he saw between his fingers a very sad, bent cigarette with no filter, a completely unrefined string of tobacco coming out of it. His hand was above a bunch of rocks, stormheart deposits and glowing deep mushroom. He thought he heard laughing; his laughter as well as other people's.

His hand trembled. Just like that, the thinnest fragment, and it was gone. He bashed the cigarillo on the balustrade and threw it in the night.