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[otiosity]

You've reached Hawke! Leave a message on this thing that I don't even remotely understand and I'll fumble my way to figure out how to answer your most important request.

Probably.

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[otiosity]

[Hawke is face down on the bar, either asleep or trying not to move so she doesn't get sick. Or both. Both is good.

She's generally immune to the hustle of the bar around her especially as it gets quieter and quieter. Then a familiar voice breaks through. Varric, of course he's here. He... no wait, this isn't the Hanged Man, he doesn't live her.]

Hnnnh. No 'm fine.

[neverheardofhim]

[A booming laugh escaped the dwarf, a sound almost too large for his small frame. It was sound that was made intentionally too loud, a small jab at Hawke's undoubtedly miserable face. His touch, however, was gentle, taking the form of a hand around her back, ready to support her as necessary.]

[It wasn't often that he appreciated his status as an arm rest, but it tended to come in handy with drunken friends.]

You need a bed, sweetheart. Not a bar.

[otiosity]

It can be both. I'm bein' flexible.

[Is the slurred response. Still, at his poke and the broad hand pressing against her back, she raised her head and began to contemplate how she was going to get her sluggish body and buzzing head back to their new house.

...Where was their new house again?]

[neverheardofhim]

This isn't the Hanged Man, kid. I can't trust the regulars to keep an eye on you. [Given time, maybe. But then, this wasn't the bar he'd been trying to make a name for himself at. None of these faces were familiar to him.]

[Tightening his grip on her waist, he shifted to the side, bringing the woman with him. His posture tightened in the slightest, half expecting an immediate splash of vomit. Despite knowing better, he hoped she'd had a little more decorum than that. He barely had much coin left after paying for their new home -- he couldn't afford to go throwing it around as apology money.]

[otiosity]

Hmmm. Suppose so.

[Thankfully Hawke does not puke. Instead she sluggishly gets to her feet, face now contorting in concentration at getting her feet steady on the floor and the upcoming task of actually walking home.]

[neverheardofhim]

[The relief on his face was obvious, and he could have sworn he felt it in his pockets as well. Giving her a praising sort of pat, he began to guide her out of the building and onto the slowly quieting streets. Outside of the bustle, Varric finally felt his voice return.]

So how did it go?

[otiosity]

How did wha'go?

[Is the slurred response from Hawke who is still very much concentrated on her shoes and making she doesn't topple over.]

[neverheardofhim]

Talking to Garrett.

[He paused for a moment, hoping the cool air might do his ailing partner in crime some good. His gaze drifted up to her, studying her face for any signs of distress or oncoming illness.]

[otiosity]

[Despite just literally being there, Hawke looks like someone wracking their brains for a hard to find answer.

Look at Garrett was like looking at her father and that made her entire body ache. So she decided to drink in hopes of numbing the pain which only lead to a worse headache than before. She vaguely remembers slumping face down on the bar and Garrett coming to check on her. He'd touched her back in the same way her father used to do and she'd flinched so violently that she probably scared him off for a good week.]

It went.

[neverheardofhim]

That well, then? [He let out a sigh, less frustrated with her lack of answers and more frustrated with the lack of results. The longer Hawke kept up her apparent loathing for her male counter part, the more difficult it was going to become for Varric to tend to either of them. At least Garrett had the maturity to not scorn him for looking out for Marian.]

[He could deal with all that later though. Frustrated as he might have been, what mattered now was getting Hawke home safely. A process started by taking a few steps down the sidewalk.]

[otiosity]

Does it matter?

[Despite her disoriented, almost disassociated state, she felt a surge of annoyance at his frustration. What right was he to be frustrated? He didn't have to stare at herself who looked more and acted like her father than she could ever dream.]

He can be there... and I'll be over here. [She gestured to opposite directions in the city, though neither were technically correct.]

[neverheardofhim]

And what if I want to be over there. [He motioned in Garrett's direction.] Will the woman over here be angry with me? Will I have to choose between the two of you?

[He knew where his loyalties lay. At the end of the day, he'd pick Marian, but it wasn't a choice he wanted to make. Much for the same reason he had picked Hawke back in Kirkwall, he got a vibe off of Garrett. He was one of Varric's own, even if they hadn't experienced their shared memories together.]

[otiosity]

No. Go over there if you'd like. Just don't expect me to follow.

Is this some sort of trick?

[Why is he asking her this. She feels annoyed at the idea that she'd be so selfish as to demand Varric do what she want. She'd never been in the business of doing such things.]

[neverheardofhim]

[The dwarf grimaced, and for the time being ignored her question. This was the sort of conversation better had when she was sober and he wasn't dragging her around. the last thing he wanted was to get angry and drop her on her ass. Not that she didn't deserve being dropped on her ass but... Again. Things better left for sobriety.]

Drinks any good there? Might need a secondary place. Supplementary information and all that. [Brilliant subject change.]

[otiosity]

Not as charmingly terrible as the Hanged Man. Nor as dirty. I miss the sensation of wondering if I was going to sneeze and choke halfway through my ale. Though you can touch the floor without sticking to it.

[She replies with the vigor only a drunk can manage.]

[neverheardofhim]

Somehow it isn't quite as fun without a questionable air to it all. [He'd had a similar feeling about his own bar. Maybe he'd just have to go and find something in a dirty corner of town. Things might have gone better between Hawke and Garrett if they'd had something closer to the Hanged Man to mill about.]

Do you ever miss being back there, Hawke?

[otiosity]

[Hawke stops dead in the middle of the street, trying to get her brain to process Varric's question. It's something she thought of in the back of her head from time to time but generally avoided giving it much thought.

She thinks about Kirkwall, the dusty, cold streets. All the expectation. Then she thinks about here. Pepper leaving her tissues on the kitchen table, Nate pretending to throw her into the pool, hanging out late nights with Tony in the workshop.

Perhaps it's the alcohol but her response is blunt.]

No. But I'm not allowed to leave it, am I?

[neverheardofhim]

I'm sure someone out there would tell you why it's important for you to go back. [But then, troubling as it was, Varric never noticed she was gone. It was like Nate had said -- time goes on, as if you've never really left. Which meant in her time, she'd still go on to die, and he'd still go on to grieve. It wasn't as if it would make a damn lick of difference if they were actually there to suffer it.]

I'm not that man. You're happy here. Shit, Hawke, you're alive here. That's all I want. [He glanced up at her, the weight of the past six months, both on the Midway Hub and back in Thedas, plain on his face. All of the grief came back and for a moment it was fresh as the day of.] To hell with what anyone says. To hell with Thedas.

You and I deserve a blighted break.

[otiosity]

[Hawke nods in agreement. But then a part of her wonders what she's nodding about. Someone would tell her to go back certainly... and she's happy here.... isn't she? She's alive... Something that she'd been doing her best not to think about these past few months. And it had been working. Booze was helping her success along.

Varric's face is what breaks her. She gasps and puts a hand to her head as she struggling to breathe like the air around her is too thin and she can't get enough.

She's sober enough to drop to a crouch so she doesn't collapse from her full height. Her brain struggles to remember what Tony told her about breathing. It was easier to remember when he was next to her. Or if only Nate were there, somehow clumsily being able to fix things he shouldn't be able to fix.]

Yes. We need a break. Let's... let's be on break.

[neverheardofhim]

[That... wasn't the reaction he'd been hoping for. Maybe he wasn't the best at speeches -- he'd told someone as much before -- but he'd hoped that it might rouse something in the lithe woman beside him. The sudden noises and movements from beside quickly dashed that hope.]

[Spinning 'round, he rested a hand against her shoulder and one against her cheek. His hope was to direct her face to him, as if something there might tell her why she was suddenly struggling to breathe. And then she was speaking, as if everything was normal -- even if it clearly wasn't and --]

[It cracked something inside of him. He of all people knew that Hawke wasn't just the fearless hero he'd written about. That didn't mean he liked to see her so vulnerable. The hand fell from her face, dropping to the other shoulder as a means to steady her. His gaze still sought her own, however.]

Hawke. Shit, Marian, what's going on?

[otiosity]

Nothing.

It just... it happens. So let's make it less embarrassing for both of us and not talk about it.

[She struggles to spit out the humor to save a little bit of face but it's hard when it feels like you can't breathe. But she's making a valiant effort.]

Ask Tony. It's fine.

[neverheardofhim]

Tony isn't my best friend. [The hiss in his voice betrayed the pain that lanced through his chest. He knew it was to be expected, that these other friends knew more about Hawke than he did. It didn't bother him at first. It wouldn't even bother him now. But in the face of everything, with Hawke all but collapsing on him, it infuriated him. How was he supposed to do his job if everyone else knew what he didn't.]

Andraste's ass, I'm sorry I wasn't here to take care of you the past year, but there's nothing I can do to change that. At least let me in to try and make things right now.

[otiosity]

I don't need you to take care of me.

[It comes out as a snap, the anger an easy cover for her embarrassment and shame. She's frustrated doing this in front of Varric and not able to keep her composure. That this is happening at all. Varric had looked after her when she'd lost her mother but she'd been more despondent than anything else. At least that had more of a composed veneer to it.

But the rush of frustration at herself at least seems to help her settle, to catch her breath. Hawke reaches out and grabs his shoulder, trying to push herself up, to smile, and walk away like nothing happened. Like she does.]

I just want... to go home. And have the joy of getting sick in the privacy of my room.

[neverheardofhim]

Like hell you don't, Hawke. Who else is going to --

[But then he trailed off. There were plenty of people to take care of her now. She wasn't the lonely waif that he'd saved from a pickpocket anymore, was she? As far as she was concerned, Varric had been out of her life for what? Years now? He, the man whom Hawke had insisted time and time again was irreplaceable had been replaced.]

[His chest ached and his throat tightened. There was so much he could have said to her. Arguing was easy when he was convinced she didn't mean what she was saying. This was different. This time he didn't know that it was a lie.]

[The thought made him shiver.]

[It'd been a long night, one that was only getting longer the more he squabbled with her. Hawke wanted to get home and get sick? He wanted to get home and drink. Better to forget these miserable realizations he was coming to.]

Yeah. Okay. Sure thing, Chuckles. Whatever you say.

[otiosity]

[She fucked up.

She can see it in his face. A mixture of pain and regret and a reluctant resignation. But she didn't forget him. She hadn't replaced him. She and Nate, she and Tony, they were close, closer than she usually got to other people, but Varric was always dear to her heart.

She should tell him so. But her head can't form the words and her mouth can't seem to recite them anyway. All she can do is grip her arm more tightly around him. It's the closest she'll get to telling him how much she needs him.]

It will be better. When we're back home.

[Them? Getting sick? Both? She doesn't know.]