Anders heart raced as she gave a hoarse moan and went limp in his arms. He ran up the steps leading to the doors of his clinic only to realize he'd locked it. Cursing inwardly, he lowered her back to the ground as gently as he could, propping her against the wall. He fumbled in his pouch for the key. The key dodged his fingers, but when he finally caught it, pulling his hand from his pouch caused the key to twist out of his fingers and bounce once before clattering on the ground.

"Andraste's ass!" he swore before bending to retrieve the key and unlock the door. Finally swinging the door open, he ran back to Kattrin. Trying to be quick but gentle, he picked her back up and walked swiftly into the clinic. He softly deposited her onto the same cot from the previous evening. He jumped up for water and a clean rag before returning to her.

He slopped water across his arm in his haste. Pulling his stool close, he looked her over while taking a seat. She was pale but breathing. The dagger was still in her gut. With shaking hands, he slowly extracted the rusted blade from her flesh. Blood seeped from the wound faster than he liked. He suddenly recalled how much ale she'd consumed before the fight and felt all the blood drain from his face. He dropped the dagger as if burned. Hurriedly, he stripped her of her chainmail and her tunic and tossed them. He called out to the Fade for a spirit to assist him. Thankfully, his call was quickly answered by a spirit of compassion. He concentrated, blue light illuminating the dark clinic, as he checked the extent of the damage.

The blade had entered her just below the center of her ribcage, perforating some of her internal organs. But in addition to the dangerous substances released from her punctured organs, her body was also fighting the rust and other filth from the knife. He slowed his breathing, calming himself and making the healing light emanating from his hands grow brighter. He worked carefully on cleaning all of the toxins from her blood. It was a laborious process. Once that was done, he was shaking and sweating. Fighting his growing fatigue, he progressed step by step to healing her from the inside out, closing her organs, then her abdominal muscles, and finally her skin.

He felt the spirit of compassion retreat back into the Fade. Justice, who had taken over to eliminate the knife-throwing thug, was quiet. Anders calling on other spirits to aid his healing always subdued the spirit within him. Exhausted, he collapsed against the edge of the cot, thankful he was already sitting down. Folding his arms on the frame of the cot he pillowed his head, willing the room to stop spinning.

"Anders?"

He lifted his head from his arms to gaze into dark blue pools of confusion. Without thought, he unfolded his arms and pulled her to him in a tight embrace. His heart thundered in his chest and his hands trembled. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, breathing in the scent of her.

"Anders, are you alright?"

He gave a weak laugh and slowly released her. Drawing a deep breath, he said, "I'm not the one who took a knife through the middle." More gently, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Tired. And grateful. Thank you." She leaned forward, closing her eyes, and kissed him softly on the lips. Desire shot through him, causing him to begin to harden. He wanted to return the kiss, wanted to taste her, but he couldn't. He leaned away from her before standing.

Justice had had enough. You cannot let this girl distract you from the plight of the mages.Focus beyond your baser needs.

Justice was right. Noticing for the first time that the clinic was dark, he walked around lighting the lanterns scattered throughout the room. How could she react like this to him? She had seen what kind of monster he was. How could he react like this to her? He was an aberration. She was pure and kind and he would only hurt her. Why couldn't he control himself around her? Trying to maintain his distance from Kattrin, he found that he had lit all the lanterns so he then piled wood into both fire pits. His thoughts continued to race. Why now? Why had she walked into his life now? After he had both fires going, he chanced looking back at her.

His eyes slid past Kattrin to the open door behind her. "Blast," he swore, advancing to close the door. Suddenly he remembered her dropping her staff. And then him dropping his staff to collect her. He rushed out of the clinic, praying that their staves were still there. He heaved a sigh of relief when he found them both where they had been left. With one staff in each hand, he stood but something caught his eye. There was a burn mark on the stone where the last thug had stood. But he didn't see any blood and there was no body. What had he and Justice done to that man? Had Kattrin been witness to the slaughter?

Anxiously, he turned toward the clinic to see her silhouetted in the doorway, watching him. Sighing, he started moving toward her. She was recovering and he needed to check on her. She could reinjure herself if she was up and about, and if he had missed any of the pollutants that had gotten into her system it would kill her slowly. His heart constricted painfully with that thought. As he got closer, he saw that she had his blanket draped around her again and he smiled.

"Anders, I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath. No, he wasn't. "Yes," he said aloud, "but we left our staves out there. Let's get you back in bed."

He stepped around her to place their staves against the wall and closed the door. He then carefully swept her off her feet and into his arms. She felt good there against his chest. Reprimanding himself mentally, he helped her into a sitting position on the cot before sitting on his stool, facing her.

He needed to check and make sure she didn't hurt herself by getting up. She was still wrapped in his blanket. He gestured to where she held it closed and asked, "May I?"

She blushed as she parted the blanket to expose her breast-banded chest. Trying not to be distracted by her breasts, he examined the smooth expanse of bloody skin above her leggings. The blood there worried him at first but when he saw that none of it was fresh and relaxed. He shook his head at himself for not finishing the job, but at least the blood distracted him from her breasts. He was so exhausted that he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. He used a little of his dwindling mana reserves to warm the water in the pot at his feet. Wetting a corner of the rag, he gently began to clean the drying blood off of her, ignoring his arousal. With the blood gone, he could see the new, pink skin healing nicely. His hands glowed blue with healing as he scanned her, checking for residual infection. He thanked the Maker when he didn't sense anything because he had depleted all of his mana reserves. He couldn't even sense the Fade right now. He stood and pulled his blanket closed around her before dropping heavily back onto his stool.

Kattrin sat somberly, eyes down, her hands twisting in her lap. "I'm sorry. Even after you told me we couldn't, I kissed you. I just… That's twice you've saved me today. I didn't mean to get so carried away."

He wanted to kick himself. He's the one who had grabbed her. He'd been so relieved that she was alright that it had just happened. He needed to watch himself more carefully around her. Justice grumbled his agreement.

You have never reacted to a woman like this since we joined.How is she different from the other women you've encountered?

How indeed. Anders felt like he couldn't breathe. Taking a deep breath that didn't seem to satisfy his need for air, he reached for her hand. "No. I know what I said earlier, but this was my fault."

She continued to stare at her feet.

"Look at me." When she continued examining her toes, he added, "Please."

She looked up at him, causing tears to overflow from her sapphire eyes and slide down her face. Anders was sure he would die right there. He begged for it, in fact. Justice berated him. These are only the first of many tears needed to end this infatuation with you. That succeeded in infuriating him. Where is the justice in this? In hurting an innocent mage girl because she found him attractive? Wasn't that part of the injustice they were fighting? Didn't mages deserve the freedom to love and live their own lives? Justice was silent.

Trying to keep his anger off his face, he wiped the tears from hers. He whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm trying so hard not to hurt you and failing miserably."

She gave him a watery smile and sniffed delicately.

Anders wouldn't relent against Justice. She helped with Karl. So far, she has helped every person she has come across. Doesn't she represent the kind of justice that should be more prevalent in the world? Was it so wrong to admire her? Was it so wrong to love her?

Anders went still. His gaze flicked to Kattrin. Her smile faltered. He released her hand and stood. To reassure her he wasn't angry with her he brushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead. "Let me make us some tea."

Moving away from her, he went through the motions of gathering water in the pot, adding leaves and spices and placing it over the fire while he tried to sort through the chaotic, emotional mess that was him and Justice. Could he love her? Dear Maker, he'd known her for all of two days. He looked at the stars through his high windows; soon to be three days.

Wait. They were both spirit healers, but she was untrained. Part of their talent was the ability to sense emotions in others. It was this sense that gave them the advantage to attract spirits instead of demons in the Fade. Andraste's ass, could she love him? While he acknowledged that they had both developed feelings for each other in the short time they had known one another, he, at least, knew that to love was to lose. But whatever this was between them was only growing stronger. Did they have some kind of emotional feedback loop occurring? He didn't remember anything similar happening between himself and Wynne. But, then again, Wynne had been the more experienced trainer. Did she have a parallel emotional experience with him? The tea was boiling, momentarily interrupting his thoughts. He removed the pot from the fire, deliberating. While he poured the tea, he decided he would need to be more careful with his reactions around her. He couldn't avoid her after offering to help her develop her talent but he would need to maintain distance between them. He would also need to do some in-depth research on spirit healers interacting with each other.

He added some honey to the tea before carrying both mugs to his seat in front of Kattrin. Passing her a mug, he asked, "Aside from my being an ass, how do you feel?"

She had regained her composure and sipped her tea before replying. "Sore. It hurts to do almost everything."

Anders nodded. "Stomach wounds do that. The body's core muscles go up through that general region and you use them for almost everything. I want you to rest for the next few days."

Kattrin nodded. "I'll try."

He set his tea down. Giving her his authoritative, healer voice, he said, "If you won't stay off your feet and rest, I'll keep you here in the clinic until I think you've healed enough to be up and about."

She smiled at him and he felt his heart quicken. Was this his reaction to her smile, or was this her reaction to him being concerned for her? Andraste's flaming sword, this was a mess.

Her smile faltered and she grew serious. "I don't want Bartrand's expedition to leave without me, and I still have a lot of money I need to earn. How long of a rest period are you suggesting?"

"How about you stay here tomorrow and watch me treat patients. We'll use the time for a lesson. I'll give you some parchment and a quill to take notes. Then we'll discuss what you observed, I'll check on your wound, and we'll see how you're feeling. Does that sound like a plan?"

Her smile lit up her being. "Yes, that sounds like a fine plan."

"Then it's settled." He stood, taking her mug of tea and placing it on his desk. "For now, you need to get some sleep."

Kattrin yawned and didn't protest about him helping her to lie down. Once again, he found himself tucking his blanket around her. He shook his head. He had a feeling that, despite his warnings about hurting her, this wouldn't be the last time she slept in his clinic with his blanket. He sighed, making a mental note to ask Lirene for another blanket. He took of his boots before falling onto his cot and almost instantly to sleep.