Chris can't get the words out but brushes through his hair ones with tenderness and Hawke nearly pulls him in again to bury his nose against blond curls as if he could be a shield against wrongs already committed. Instead Hawke nods and watches Chris' retreat to another safe space before retreating out the door with a safe space of his own.

He threads his fingers with hers, the anger that he'd finally been able to tamp down while healing now seeping again into his demeanor and expression as they walk. When he answers her, his voice is hard and cold as deepest winter. "I need one more potion, and then we make sure this can never happen again."

Rest isn't an option, not while the ones who did this still draw breath.