"All right, I'm here. I don't know why I'm here, but I'm here--"

Anders' tired mumbling announces his arrival to the clinic. He walks in still adjusting the clothes he'd hastily thrown on, blinking under the clinic's harsh fluorescent lighting, but when he sees who's there, he stops.

Nathaniel is there as promised, but much to Anders' eternal surprise, so is an injured person covered in blood. When Nathaniel had said to come downstairs because he'd shot someone, Anders hadn't known what to expect--but he hadn't really believed Nathaniel was serious about that part.

The identity of the injured party is even more of a shock.

"Nathaniel! You really shot Cullen!?" His mouth falls open. "Maker, I was only joking when I said that..."

Unbidden, a swell of something resembling fond surprise steals the rest of the words. He looks at his fellow Warden with a peculiar look of one deeply affected by some grand gesture they're only just starting to process.

"Did you shoot him because of me?" he says, hushed now, approaching Nathaniel as if about to take him by the shoulder.