There's a nagging sensation at the back of Hawke's mind that this isn't how this is backwards. He should be the one holding Chris. He should be the protector, the stalwart, the breakwater. He also should be able to do that with a smile and a steady hand but somewhere along the way his dynamic with Chris became different. Or maybe it always has been.
It's not a matter of him always giving, of only taking satisfaction in the care he offers and feeling weak for needing it back. He and Chris have near always been shoulder to shoulder from the beginning, leaning on one another in give and take alike. Friends. Comrades. Companions in a way that even some of his closest back home couldn't manage. He's what he chooses to be; reliable, helpful, a solid foundation there. Even Varric, even Anders, who arguably know him best, he can't crumble to. He'd only managed it outside of Thedas, and even then he'd hated how it made him feel when Anders looked at him and saw the cracks no matter how much he loved his healer reached to sooth them.
It feels similar here. Chris, who has so much of his own healing to do, reaching out and making room for him in a way that doesn't feel like a pittance but still makes his stomach twist unkindly that he's somehow forced this. But it's different than Anders, isn't it? He doesn't like that he's making the comparison at all, really. They're entirely different people.
He doesn't need to protect Chris. He wants to, but he doesn't need to. What protection and care Chris accepts he offers back in kind because he wants to, not because it's his calling or because he's terrified he'll lose what little care he's gathered for himself. There was always a fear in Anders, that even as he pushed Hawke away he never did so with force. He would tell him he should leave and hold him tightly in the same motion. Maybe it was starting to abate when Hawke had vanished, maybe he'd stood on his feet without Hawke and been better for it.
Maybe it's his fear, then. And not Anders' at all. A fear that he'll be a burden instead of a savior. Just another thing to worry about among hundreds.
He looks at Chris, having stepped back and allowed his wrist to be taken. Chris is not Anders. Chris is...
Not more. Not less, either. Chris is Chris. He's different. His needs are not Anders' needs and he doesn't have to protect him in order to prove that he will. That he wants to. He doesn't have to because Chris already knows and accepts that and isn't going to push him away out of a deluded idea of it being for his own good.
A soft sigh escapes him, some of the tension leaving him even if there's plenty more working it's way through him. That's for later consideration. Now he will nod, he will put his arm over Chris' shoulders and walk with him from the cold into the warm house, and arrange them perhaps not exactly as Chris laid them out. Not his head on Chris' chest, but on his shoulder, and the cleric's head on his too. Comfortable and able to see eye to eye.
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It's not a matter of him always giving, of only taking satisfaction in the care he offers and feeling weak for needing it back. He and Chris have near always been shoulder to shoulder from the beginning, leaning on one another in give and take alike. Friends. Comrades. Companions in a way that even some of his closest back home couldn't manage. He's what he chooses to be; reliable, helpful, a solid foundation there. Even Varric, even Anders, who arguably know him best, he can't crumble to. He'd only managed it outside of Thedas, and even then he'd hated how it made him feel when Anders looked at him and saw the cracks no matter how much he loved his healer reached to sooth them.
It feels similar here. Chris, who has so much of his own healing to do, reaching out and making room for him in a way that doesn't feel like a pittance but still makes his stomach twist unkindly that he's somehow forced this. But it's different than Anders, isn't it? He doesn't like that he's making the comparison at all, really. They're entirely different people.
He doesn't need to protect Chris. He wants to, but he doesn't need to. What protection and care Chris accepts he offers back in kind because he wants to, not because it's his calling or because he's terrified he'll lose what little care he's gathered for himself. There was always a fear in Anders, that even as he pushed Hawke away he never did so with force. He would tell him he should leave and hold him tightly in the same motion. Maybe it was starting to abate when Hawke had vanished, maybe he'd stood on his feet without Hawke and been better for it.
Maybe it's his fear, then. And not Anders' at all. A fear that he'll be a burden instead of a savior. Just another thing to worry about among hundreds.
He looks at Chris, having stepped back and allowed his wrist to be taken. Chris is not Anders. Chris is...
Not more. Not less, either. Chris is Chris. He's different. His needs are not Anders' needs and he doesn't have to protect him in order to prove that he will. That he wants to. He doesn't have to because Chris already knows and accepts that and isn't going to push him away out of a deluded idea of it being for his own good.
A soft sigh escapes him, some of the tension leaving him even if there's plenty more working it's way through him. That's for later consideration. Now he will nod, he will put his arm over Chris' shoulders and walk with him from the cold into the warm house, and arrange them perhaps not exactly as Chris laid them out. Not his head on Chris' chest, but on his shoulder, and the cleric's head on his too. Comfortable and able to see eye to eye.
"Better?"