[ closed ] I'm so ashamed of defeat

[morework]

Who: Cullen Rutherford & Garrett Hawke
Where: Cullen's room
When: 12/27, after the event
Rating: PG-13 to R (drug withdrawals, references to violence/blood/gore)
Summary: The pain comes and goes, but after several near sleepless days it refuses to go, not quickly, nor quietly. Unwillingly Cullen finally provides Hawke with a demonstration on just what it means for him to leave the templar order.
The Story:

At times he feels the worst days coming, now. He knows when the strain of his duties (self-imposed or otherwise) becomes too great, he knows how to push himself less to soften the blow. He knows, and he even acts accordingly. At times. It has gotten him through Thedas, so far. But Wonderland is a different chapter entirely.

When the illusions start at night he wishes for a clearer mind to distinguish them from the truth. A clearer mind, he thinks bitterly, as if he did not know exactly what it was he wanted in truth. A phial first, shamefully, and only second to have Cassandra at his side, to remind him that he must endure instead. Cassandra, Cadash, Dorian. Any voice other than his own, to remind him why he chose this. He knows, Maker, of course he does, but he loathes the days when his reasons look so small, compared to the thirst.

Days pass, and Cullen goes thirsty still. Adjusting to what he must deny himself under the circumstances becomes easier. The prize for his refusal does not.

Towards the end his eyelids are heavy, and behind them a headache burns. Softly at first, then nourished by every restless night, until it sears through his body whole. The event ends, and he knows it immediately. The event ends, and he knows, because he drifts off tiredly, and no longer dreams white. Instead he drowns in echoes of pained cries and cold laughter. A flash of light and magic wraps around him, and presses down on his chest like a vice. He wakes next to his bed, standing, gasping desperately for breath.

For a moment he does not recognise the room. For a moment he cannot think where he is, and when. For the moments that follow he tries to remember, and every effort makes the fire flare in his head. He is covered in sweat, he thinks. A frozen core, wrapped in some spell of fever, or- the other way around. Hot and cold and too much of both, that he knows, and that his hand shakes too badly to feel his forehead. Wonderland, like an afterthought, and he remembers where he can get a cup of water.

He takes the first step, and nearly falters. He makes an effort to straighten his back before the second. It goes poorly. He grabs for his desk to steady himself, but his grip misses the edge. He is only half aware that his head hits the floor.

Comments

[bloodmagics]

After that first night, and the confirmation that indeed, everybody had a similar dream, Hawke stubbornly refused to sleep. Days dragged on and everybody was on edge, and he was no different. Dog had snapped at him, once, when he kept bothering the poor mabari in an effort to keep himself awake. Cullen, though -- He'd kept an eye on Cullen, because the sleep deprivation seemed to be hitting him harder than most and well. He worries.

He doesn't bring it up, just does his best to be a quiet pillar of support when their very dreams have turned against them. Not a new thing, but such sweetness is so much harder to deal with than the nightmares.

Hawke stirs when Cullen slips from the bed, an eye cracking open and seeing little in the darkness. He shifts, ready for when Cullen comes back to bed -- Thud. Hawke shoots up, throwing himself out of bed as Dog -- and their newest addition -- stir in their beds.

"Cullen? Hey --" Hawke murmurs as he slowly turns Cullen over, lifting his head to rest on his legs. "Talk to me, babe. Are you okay?"

[morework]

In his mind he gets back on his feet quietly. It takes Hawke's voice above him to realise that he did not. Still Wonderland. He sinks his teeth into that knowledge, when Daylen Amell runs past him, and disappears behind red-stained stone. Still Wonderland, even when his headache speaks in Meredith's voice, and distorts and distorts, until it sounds just like the lure of red crystal. Still Wonderland, and not the battle it pulled him from. Not Adamant, and not Hawke watching him fall there. Still Wonderland, but you still fell, and he still saw.

"No," he admits quietly. There is no way to claim otherwise, now. "But- it will pass."

It might. It should. It always has, so far. He shifts the leaden weight of his limbs, to push himself back on his feet. (It runs down his spine like shards of glass, just to prove him wrong.) He stifles a groan.

[bloodmagics]

"This has happened before."

It's not a question. Not after the way Cullen speaks with resignation to his fate. All it serves to do is make Hawke worry -- he should have noticed if something was troubling Cullen. But this isn't about him. Cullen tries to stand, and Hawke holds him steady, holds him down and in his lap. He brushes a stray lock of hair out of Cullen's face and smiles down at him. How tired he still is shows on his face, but he ignores it.

"Don't push yourself. I've got you, okay?"

He wants to brush his lips over Cullen's forehead, to reassure him but something about the way Cullen looks right now gives him pause.

"Do you need a healer -- Someone from one of the other worlds might be able to help," okay so he's babbling a little bit and he clears his throat and focuses on the issue on hand. "Will you tell me what's going on?"

[morework]

He cannot think of a time Hawke's smile did not bring him comfort. Today it only feels wasted on him. Not like this, cuts through his mind over and over. This is not how anyone ought to see him. This is not how he ought to find out. This- is Cullen's own fault, for every wasted opportunity, when the message was still his to control.

(Not like this, not like this, and Cullen frowns in concentration to understand Hawke's voice over the stream. Maker, but how simple would it be to ask him for a phial from the closet, and say it will all be well after?)

"No," he says, a harsh edge where the word answers a question Hawke did not hear. "No- healer. I will explain."

His eyes sting, dry, when he searches for Hawke's gaze. For his hand with his own, to steady twitching fingers with a squeeze, as much (as little) as he can think to reassure. Please, not like this.

"Just- let me stand up."

He has another effort in him. He looks at Hawke pleadingly.

[bloodmagics]

Hawke so badly wants to help, wants to do something but he's at a complete loss. Anyone else, anything else and he could talk his way into some sort of solution through sheer force of will. But this is Cullen and something he has no idea where to begin even thinking of a reason. He flinches, just barely, at the harshness of Cullen's tone and is soothed by the gentle squeezing of his hand.

"Alright."

How could he say no to those eyes? He lets go, letting Cullen take as much time as he needs to stand up on his own, hands staying close in case he stumbles again.

[morework]

"Thank you."

His muscles still know the climb to Skyhold, miles through snow and ice, upon miles across the mountains. He swears getting to his feet feels just the same today. Sweat pearls on his brow, already icy. He grasps at the edge of his desk; this time, at least, he does not miss.

"You already know that I left the Order."

He steadies himself over his desk, back bent. He cannot look Hawke in the eyes like this. It will not do. Cullen pushes himself upright. Regret shoots down his spine like lightning. He clenches his teeth doggedly. There. Upright. For now. As good as it gets.

"After Kirkwall I- wanted to leave as much of it behind as I could."

Cullen exhales sharply. Tries not to remember that Hawke's experience of so many of these years is still pending. Instead he swallows dry, and forces the explanation as best he can.

"Templars take lyrium, to grant them their abilities. But I no longer do. Being cut off from it... has its disadvantages."

There is more, and he wishes he did not need a moment to catch his breath. Or find himself caught in looking towards Hawke for a verdict already.

[bloodmagics]

Hawke hovers the entire time, unable to stop himself because the last thing he wants is for Cullen to hurt himself further because of some foolish pride. He's forced to ball his fists and hang them at his sides to stop himself from reaching out and helping anyway, and when Cullen makes it to his desk, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You told me not long after you arrived."

He can focus on that, instead of the way Cullen looks. Instead of the way he's clearly about to drop to the ground again. Hawke sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and leans forward to listen. The reminder of Kirkwall stings, because for all he's already been through, he knows there's more. Knows the future holds more pain for him and everyone else.

"What kind of disadvantages, exactly?" He wets his lips and looks Cullen in the eye, unable to mask the fear and concern on his face. "Is -- Can I help, at all?"

[morework]

There is no help he can think of. The pain throbs behind his eyes. He approached a healer before. Individual pains may be dulled, to a small degree, but the condition at large offers few precedents, and fewer means of relief, save for the freedom it granted him. On many days that is enough. Cullen shakes his head.

"You heard- the nightmares. They've become worse since I stopped." A beat. "On the worst days they- follow me when I'm awake as well." He swallows, quick to reassure: "The pain comes and goes, today is--" An exception, is that really truth enough to claim it? Cullen falters.

"It has been... about a year at home. Days like today are rarer than they used to be, but sometimes- they can't be avoided." By himself, at times when he still refuses not to push. At large by circumstances, especially here in Wonderland.

Cullen's fingers curl around the edge of the desk. When did he sit down on it? He breathes, in and out, slowly and deeply- forced, away from the sharp gasps that tempt him. He meets Hawke's eyes again.

"Others who are cut off- have lost their minds and lives to this. I am still fortunate."

Unlike his brothers. Again.

[bloodmagics]

Hawke refuses to believe there's nothing he can do to help. It's not that he doesn't think Cullen doesn't know the details of his own condition or the state of his own body, but there has to be something. And if there isn't? Hawke will make a way to help. He doesn't say as much, though, instead remaining silent and listening as Cullen explains.

Cullen sits at the desk and makes that admission, Hawke crosses the distance between them and kneels in front of him. His hands rest on Cullen's knees as he looks up into his eyes.

"Hey, hey. You don't have to go through this alone, okay? I can tell you want to, but you're not going to. If you need help, even if you just want me to... I don't know, rub your shoulders until you feel better, ask me. Please, Cullen."

Meanwhile, the gears are turning. There has to be someone he can talk to about this, because the thought of Cullen slowly losing his mind because he wanted to make things right. Wanted to take control of himself, it's unbearable.

"I love you, Cullen. I'm not going to let you suffer through this alone."

[morework]

He doesn't know about want. (He doesn't know that he wants Hawke to close the distance between them now.) He knows that part of him must, in a place where none share the experience. And he knows that he should, when the burden was always his choice to carry. He made his decision. Hawke should not feel obliged to share it.

Cullen- does not need to look up to meet Hawke's eyes.

(Cullen is glad he closed the distance, after all.)

"This is more than you- were aware of, more than you agreed to. I would- understand if it was more than you _{love me}."

He prepared the offer as best he could. Every piece of it falls apart with Hawke's words. In a better romance the pain would vanish underneath them whole. Here, at least, they make it quieter by force. For just a moment. Cullen swallows dry.

"Are you sure ab-- Maker, I love you too."

He can't pull Hawke up to stand with him. He can still take his hand and guide it, and hope that he follows.

"But are you sure about this?"

[bloodmagics]

He hadn't intended to say those words, hadn't even realised them himself in truth. But now that it's out there, he knows he means them with ever fiber of his being. If the situation were less dire, he would be covering Cullen in kisses and repeating the words over and over until he ran out of breath.

Cullen is caught off-guard and Hawke smiles up at him, tentative and unsure because what if he doesn't feel the same? They're happy -- at least, Hawke thinks they are, but even he is prone to worrying sometimes. But no, Cullen makes the same declaration and as he guides his hand, Hawke takes a moment to press a kiss to Cullen's knuckles as he stands up.

"You're not a burden, Cullen. I'm not going to say goodbye because you wanted to free yourself from the Order's chains. You might --" He pauses and swallows the lump in his throat. "You might be from the future, but I can guarantee there's things you don't know about me either. And you probably know a few things about me that I don't know that would make somebody else run away. But you haven't. And I'm not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever."

[morework]

Cullen waits. It only takes a second, but in it he dreads whatever reality is about to pull him back. When he wakes from the white dream, when he blinks and stands again on the battlefield. The worst times make him wonder if he ever left Ferelden's tower at all. Cullen waits, but the moment lasts.

All that fades instead is the dread at the back of his mind.

"Be careful what you promise," Cullen says softly (tiredly). "I might just hold you to all of it."

His hands come to rest on Hawke's shoulders. Their foreheads press together. In the background the pain has not ebbed, but standing upright is easier, like this. Cullen presses a tired kiss to Hawke's lips.

[bloodmagics]

"I want you to," Hawke answers immediately, earnestly. "Whatever happens, we face it together, remember?" At the time, he hadn't known it would mean something like this but it changes nothing. It's just another part of their relationship they need to figure out together, and find what works for them. They will, in time, and Hawke is nothing if not devoted to this. To Cullen.

He meets Cullen's kiss with one of his own, keeping it chaste and slow as he guides Cullen to the bed. Their lips part, but their foreheads stay together.

"I love you, Cullen Rutherford, and I'm never going to get tired of telling you that. I'm warning you now."

When he'd first met Cullen in Wonderland, he didn't exactly see it becoming this but he's so happy it did. Cullen's one of the few bright spots he has here, and if he's being honest, he's the brightest. (Sorry, Dog.)

"Do you want to lie down again? I have nothing planned for today so I can be your pillow," he pauses to press another quick kiss to Cullen's lips, "all day."

[morework]

The words deserve a better reply than Cullen can give today. They will give him strength later, but right now his reserves are exhausted. Hawke knows, and that is all that matters. Hawke- loves him, and that-- It swims in his head. He is not sure that a better day will make it clearer. But he holds on to them tight, and lets Hawke lead him across the room.

(The temptation to decline is strong, a shower would do, wouldn't it, he does not need to-- It stings to admit the lie. He does. He does need to rest, Maker's breath, he does not remember the last time he has felt so bone tired.)

He nods slowly, and sinks back down onto the bed.

"Perhaps just- for an hour or two, I would like that."

[bloodmagics]

Hawke had been expecting something of a struggle, but when Cullen doesn't give it, he's more than a little relieved. Cullen sinks down onto the bed and Hawke waits a few moments for him to get as comfortable as he can -- not very, he thinks, given how he looks and what he'd told him -- before stripping down to his smallclothes and joining him in the bed.

"Take as long as you need, babe. I'm all yours."

He proves the point by gentle manhandling Cullen until his head is resting on Hawke's chest, one arm relaxed around him to give him support and gently playing with his hair. He's still thinking about what he can do to help, but it's in the background of his thoughts. All that matters now is letting Cullen get some rest.

"Thank you for telling me."