Work Text:
“Well, shit, Whisper,” Varric said. His voice was quiet and rough. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.
Hawke didn't move. The fire burned low, the shadows cast around the bedroom danced. Hawke stared unseeingly at the fire.
“Why did you do it?” Varric asked quietly after a moment. He didn't look at Hawke, instead he stared at the fireplace. He sat on the edge of her bed, his expression hard to read.
The silence stretched between them. And then Hawke spoke. It was muttered, barely audible, “Wanted to die.”
"What? Shit." Varric muttered.
Hawke looked away. She seemed not to have heard him. Her voice broke as she whispered, “Bethany, Carver, Mother… Father… All my fault.”
“Shit, Whisper,” Varric said again, his voice rougher. “None of it was your fault!”
Hawke didn't answer. She turned her hands over on top of the blanket and looked at the bandages around her wrists with seeming disinterest. “Why did you stop me?”
“Shit!” Varric almost exploded. Now he whipped around to look at her, his face twisted with emotion. “We care about you! We worry about you! You're not alone, so you can stop acting like it!”
Hawke looked at him now. Tears burned in her blue eyes and she buried her face in her hands and let out a strangled sob. “It should have been me, not Bethany or Carver or Mother! It's all my fault! It's all my fault!”
“Shit, Whisper… Bianca,” Varric reached over and pulled her into a hug, her face buried in his shoulder. “It should never have happened, but it wasn't your fault.”
“Bethany should have let the ogre kill me! Carver shouldn't have gotten sick in the Deep Roads! Mother should have had another chance to be happy!” Hawke cried into Varric's shoulder.
Varric smoothed her short, tangled black hair and let her cry. He said quietly, “You're not alone, Bianca, you've got Aveline, Ravaini, Daisy, Choir Boy. Hell, you've even got both Broody and Blondie on your side. You've had Orana worried sick, not to mention Sandal and Bodahn… And you've got me. We're all here for you.”
“Thank you,” Hawke sniffed sometime later, wiping her eyes on her tunic sleeve. “I've been an idiot and made a mess of things, haven't I?”
“Maybe a little,” Varric chuckled softly, but there was no real humor behind it. “Maybe a lot.”
It would be weeks before Bianca Hawke's friends and companions stopped giving her sidelong glances or treated her like glass, it would be even longer before Orana stopped fussing and worrying every time she left the house or came back, but the future didn't look quite so dark. Hawke wasn't alone, not really.