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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]

[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.]

[neverheardofhim]

[For once, Hawke's subtlety doesn't fully convey its message. Caught up in his own thoughts as he was, he didn't quite notice the bony touch against his side, at least not as anything more than the woman trying to keep from collapsing. The dwarf wasn't the type to need constant affirmation of her feelings, not really, but it was still a welcome gesture, especially when she had only just admitted to telling everyone else more than he had been told.]

[He returned the squeeze, shifting her so that she was fully supported.] Back home then.

[He was silent the rest of the way, thoughts churning about. His grip never left the woman, however, which made for something of a struggle when he led her up the steps and had to struggle with the bio-meat-tricks, or whatever Stark had called them. By some miracle, they made it in without too much of a fight, and Varric quickly deposited the woman on a nearest sitting surface.]

You need water. [It was a brisk observation -- Hawke had asked for him to butt out and he would. He could hover and dote in other ways, but he wouldn't trouble her with this. Her stance had been made clear.]

[otiosity]

[Hawke clings to him the entire way home. Partially because she doesn't want to pitch over onto her face and otherwise because she's afraid if she lets Varric go, he'll disappear again.

She giggles drunkenly at his failed attempts to open the door and then "oofs" when he sets her down on the couch. She watches him move in the kitchen and she tries to imagine Varric not being here. Sure, Tony and Nate would be there. So would Pepper and Elena. But the idea of losing Varric... it hurts. Before it didn't feel like a loss. But now the idea of him being gone is too much.

The world spins and she leans over to vomit into a strategically placed trash can. Good job Varric. She wipes her mouth and nods at his water suggestion. However as her head nods, she reaches out and grabs his hand briefly before letting go.]

[neverheardofhim]

[If there was anything he knew, anything he could promise her, it was that he had no plans of going anywhere. They were roommates now, stranded together on a foreign planet in a foreign time. Even if he was bitter, even if her treatment smarted, he couldn't up and leave her. They were still best friends, which meant he still had an obligation to her, even if other people had stepped in to fill that role.]

[None of that was said out loud. Even if Hawke had spoken aloud, he wouldn't have answered. He'd hoped that their bond was one that didn't need to be reaffirmed.]

[The sounds of vomit didn't really phase him. Living in a tavern, he'd grown used to them. Even Hawke's vomit was a familiar sound, disgusting of a thought as that was. It almost made him homesick, would have if it weren't so disgusting.]

[Her hand against his startled him only for a moment. Despite his downtrodden mood, he squeezed back. Pissed as he was, he wouldn't, couldn't take it out on his best friend. She might have hurt him in some way, but she was still a sucker for her. He was relieved she was the one that let go, of course. He might not have been able to say no.]

[But she did, and he quickly slipped away from her to fill a large glass of water, and to retrieve a blanket for her and bottle for himself. He returned to the couch, setting their beverages down and bundling her up before seating himself.]

[Once settled, he motioned for her to scoot up next to him, lay on him, whatever. At this point he needed her comfort as much as she needed his.]

[otiosity]

[She knows she hurt him. But she doesn't know what to do about it. She's never been good at feelings and those of others are even more elusive than her own. The right words never come to her.

So she dumbly accepts the glass of water instead, sipping it slowly and appreciating how it cleared away the acidic taste on her tongue. She's quiet. The only sounds are his movements and the gentle sound of the water sloshing about in the glass.

When he wraps the blanket around her, she blinks. He's done this more than she can remember, because so often she's beyond remembering when she's drunk. But it reminds her of the time she'd come down with a bad bout of pneumonia after her mother had passed. He'd scooped her up off the floor of the Hanged Man (along with Isabela and Fenris) and set her to rest in his bed, trying to get her to stay under the blanket until Anders arrived.

Instinctively she moves closer, curling up against his side like she was meant to fit there.]

I hate when my mouth tastes like puke even after I've had water.

[Poetic.]

[neverheardofhim]

[His cheek came to rest against her hair, a low sigh escaping him and disturbing some of the strands that weren't compressed by his face. Meant to fit there indeed -- he never felt whole without this sort of thing. A drink in one hand, a Hawke in an arm -- the way it was meant to be.]

[Even as broken as they felt, this was still normal to him.]

I heard about this thing called toothpaste. Sounds like a real miracle. [It... probably would have come off as sarcastic, if not for where they came from. Better than chewing on roots and hoping they didn't get caught in their teeth.]

[otiosity]

I know. I have some. And a little thing to use it with. It's like five mint roots in one.

[Her reply is quiet. She's tired. Her body aches. Her stomach is still churning and her head is pounding. She'd love to pass out right here but something is keeping her awake.]

...Do you really mean that I don't have to go back?

[neverheardofhim]

[Rather than engaging in a lengthy conversation about mint root, teeth and vomit, Varric opted to ignore whatever it was Hawke had said and focus on the more important details. Tilting his head slightly, he pressed a kiss to her hair.]

Let me put it this way -- anyone or anything that tries to take you will have to pry you out of my cold, dead hands. It's time for us to be happy, Hawke.

[Not that Varric was currently doing a good job at the being happy thing but... at least they were moving away from less than pleasant conversations for the time being. He could at least swallow his bitterness for a few more hours.]

[otiosity]

[She shivers at the sensation. Only Varric was ever that intimate with her. And she could not explain why she was so comfortable with him. But it was something she'd grown used to.

She sniffled a little at the cat dander in the air as she curled up closer to him. She was so tired. Tired of her nightmares of the slave planet, of the arena, of having to think about dick Hawke, of going home, of dying. The idea of happiness seemed... far too much. But she was happy here, wasn't she?]

I'm glad you're here.

[Nothing terrified her more than the dark hallways of her dark manor.]