Can't Let You Go

                "Just say the magic word and I'll take you home and have you moaning in no time."

                "Douglas..."  Anders groaned.

                "That was it!  Let's go," Douglas said in false excitement, grabbing the blonde's hand and giving it a mock tug out of the Hanged Man where they were spending some time on a Friday night as Bethany was home for a small summer vacation. 

                "You promised we'd dance tonight."

                "I know, but we didn't even get a quickie this week," Douglas almost whined.  With the addition of their new phones, they had been able to talk more, but it wasn't doing anything for Douglas' libido when they were still technically apart.

                "I am beginning to wonder what exactly I have gotten myself into by having sex with you," rubbing against Douglas length with his backside to assure him it was just a joke.

                "Can you blame me?  After eleven years of being a good boy, you corrupted me.  Now every week, all work week long, you sit across from me during meals, looking sexy and I go home to a cold bed.  And at this very moment, the only things stopping me are four thin pieces of fabric which are not helping me out in the slightest against this gorgeous backside having its way with me but completely hindering me from having my way with it."

                "Love?"

                "Hmmm?"

                "You're rambling," Anders rubbed against him again and Douglas groaned.

                "I blame it on all the blood leaving my head and heading south."

                "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

                Douglas nibbled his neck, "Oh, I know you will."

                Isabela suddenly squealed and tore across the balcony in excitement, Bethany saying happily surprised from her chair, "Oh, Fellon's here."

                Douglas glanced over the railing; Isabela hadn't said anything about Fellon showing up tonight.  Fellon was stalking across the dance floor and the patrons were parting in front of him like a hot knife through butter.  He didn't look happy, having not even paused to unzip his motorcycle jacket.  Douglas wasn't exactly surprised; Fellon never looked happy.  He probably just came to blow off steam with Isabela.  Douglas turned back to the man in front of him and their grinding hips, smiling at Anders' hair being up right now.  Anders looked so sexy with it down, but up made it so much easier to nibble at his neck and ears and Douglas set to work in hopes of getting out of there faster.

                The next thing Douglas knew, he had been grabbed by the collar and was yanked away from Anders.  Abruptly, everyone was screaming at once as he was still fumbling backward and Fellon grabbed Anders by the throat, pressing him backward over the railing.  "You motherfucking BASTARD!" Fellon screamed as his fist slammed into Anders' jaw.  The blonde might have gone crashing to the floor below had it not been for the death grip around his throat.

                Douglas caught himself roughly against Bethany who had stood up when Fellon had grabbed him.  Varric had also hopped to his feet as his fiancé screamed while Fenris was rooted in place torn between doing his job and his best friend's obvious rage.  After Douglas had righted himself, he, Varric and Isabela dashed toward Fellon with Isabela yelling "Fellon, stop!"

                Douglas and Varric tore Fellon away from the railing, Isabela grabbing hold of Anders so he wouldn't go over.  They separated the two men, Isabela and Bethany trying to calm Fellon down as Isabela stood in front of the blonde.  Varric tried to calm Bianca, and most everyone on the balcony burst into excited gossip, mostly that Fellon and Douglas were actually lovers, and Fellon had finally had enough.

                Douglas' fists clenched in blind fury and in the next instant, he squarely punched Fellon in the jaw.  Fellon's head snapped back and he staggered a step, and like a switch had been flipped, everyone was suddenly stunned into silence at Douglas' reaction.  He had always been one for talking things out over physical actions.  Fellon looked at him for a moment himself in shock, as Douglas glared back.  Fellon's gaze shifted to Anders, his eyes on fire, but calmly stating, "I want that bastard out of this club.  Now."  His calm was more frightening than any yelling.

                Douglas' fists were still clenched in rage, wanting to hit the man in front of him again for daring to lay a finger on Anders but yelling back, "Fuck you!  If you have a problem, you take it up with me."

                Fellon growled impressively back at Douglas, "WHAT did you just say to me?"

                Douglas took a step closer, his fists still at the ready, "You heard what I said."

                Fellon's lethal glare returned back to Anders, "That bitch has been playing you, Douglas.  Do you have any idea what he does at that so-called free clinic?"

                "Anders isn't the one here that should be explaining himself!"

                Fellon yanked at the zipper of his leather jacket to about halfway, tugging out a manila envelope that had been stashed within and throwing it at Douglas, catching it with a raised eyebrow.  Fellon snarled, "I did a little research.  That bastard patches up murderers for free."

                "What are you talking about?"

                "Open the fucking envelope."  Douglas frowned but opened it, glancing through several files but the one on the top caught his attention from the date mostly.  His eyes widened as he looked over the descriptive markings of the patient and injuries, flipping through the pages in shock before looking back at Fellon.  "Get it now?  That blond bimbo fixed up Mom's murderer... and just let him walk away!"  He started advancing toward Anders again, but Isabela latched on to his side, keeping herself in between the two men and murmuring soothingly in his ear.

                Douglas said, "Fellon.  Office.  Now."  Turning to Bethany, he added, "Go with him, Sister."

                Douglas looked back at the files in his hands, some of the criminals not even smart enough to use a fake name, but the only one that mattered to him was the one on the top.  He turned to Anders, finally, still in shock and disbelief himself.  Fellon couldn't be right about this; Anders could not have healed this murderer and set him free to do it again.  It had to be a mistake; some other person at the clinic did it.  Douglas pleaded, "Tell me these aren't yours," shaking his head to help with prompting the no he wanted to come out of Anders' mouth.  He didn't even care if it was a lie, anything not to be certain Anders had saved this bastard.

                Anders' eyes narrowed, his voice still raspy from the choke hold, "Apparently, at the moment, they are your cousin's."

                Douglas roared back, "Are they yours?!"

                Amber eyes reopened, taken aback.  Anders nervously swallowed with a small wince before faintly nodding a yes.

                "Get out," Douglas' voice a shocked whisper.

                "But, Douglas..."

                "Fenris, make sure he leaves."  Douglas turned on his heel, unwilling to listen to anything else and heading for the office.

                Fellon added, "Fen, as far as I'm concerned, you don't have to be gentle about it."

                Douglas frowned at the comment but said nothing, disappearing down the hidden hallway as the whispering turned back into excited chatter.  Douglas closed the door to his office after the three were safely inside, walking over and throwing the files on the desk before leaning against it.  "Why?"

                "How am I supposed to know why the bitch did it?"

                Douglas turned on Fellon, "No.  Why did you tell me this?"

                "I could have just killed him."

                "What does it even matter now?  The bastard is dead."

                "Why don't you tell me, Douglas?  Does it matter?"

                Douglas looked at him wanting to instantly object, but it did matter.  The man preyed on weaker individuals, torturing them before he murdered them and what should have stopped that was healed and the bastard was turned loose to do it all again.  His shoulders sagged, silently admitting it.  "Why do you even have these?" pointing at the files.

                "Someone had to check up on the little bitch."

                "Why?"

                "Because you were too busy drooling all over his ass to do your damn job."

                Bethany cut in, "Fellon, that's not fair."

                "Please, don't you start in on me, too.  I warned Douglas from the beginning he was getting way too serious and he did without even doing his homework first."

                Douglas asked, "And what, you aren't serious about Isabela?"

                "That's different."

                "I'm sorry, you are right.  Anders and I didn't pass each other around like the common cold; sex actually meant something to us."

                Bethany said, "That wasn't fair either, Douglas."

                Fellon responded, "That's your problem, you let your heart get in the way of your head."

                "Once again, I apologize.  I have repeatedly inconvenienced you with my feelings, but you know what, I guess it doesn't matter now.  You win, it only took me eleven years to find someone to fall in love with and this one actually loved me back for once but maybe your lesson will stick this time."  Douglas headed for the door, stopping with his hand on the knob, "One other thing though, I'm not the only one who is ruled by his emotions.  Once again, you need to learn to control your temper before you end up spilling all the family's secrets.  I'm going home.  Do you need a ride, Sister?"

                "I'll be there in a minute."

                Douglas nodded and left.

*   *   *

                Douglas ignored Anders' phone calls for a few days, his heart wrenching every time he heard the sad voice pleading for him to call back, but finally he had to know why.  All types of scenarios were running through his head, the worst of all nagging him being he actually had been played and Anders worked for the Coterie.

                Douglas dropped by The Hanged Man, grabbing the files he had shoved in his desk earlier in the week and headed over to Anders' clinic.  He slipped in the back, watching the doctor until he knew he would be alone, and followed him into a small room, shutting the door behind them. 

                "Douglas!"  Anders obviously was surprised to see him there.  Despite the large, dark circles the blonde actually looked relieved and happy at the shock.

                Douglas asked quietly, "Why did you do it?"

                "Do what?"

                "Save that bastard."

                "Douglas, I don't know what you are talking about.  I could tell the files were mine by looking at them, but that's it."

                Douglas handed them back, "The one on the top."

                Anders looked at him for a few seconds before opening the file, studying it for a minute.  "I remember him.  I had left the clinic late and as I was walking to the bus I heard this groaning in the alley…"

                "You followed groaning into an alley?" Douglas asked in horror, like he needed another reason to worry about the man standing in front of him.

                "Yes, and this guy," pointing at the file, "was lying there, bleeding to death.  I couldn't just leave him there and he couldn't tell me anything so I brought him back to the clinic and fixed him up.  I slept at my desk behind a locked door," adding the last part quickly as Douglas was about to object to his actions again, "and by the next morning he had left.  See, I even made some notes about it."

                Douglas glanced at the notes that he had truthfully already scoured, "No one asked you to help him or paid you?"

                "No."

                "And you had never met him before?"

                "I never saw him before or since nor had he ever been brought up before now."  Douglas nodded before Anders added, "I'm sorry about your aunt, but I didn't know."

                Douglas looked up him, his eyes full of sadness.  "She wasn't my aunt, she was my mother.  I'll spare you the details of what that bastard did to her before he killed her but he deserved to die in that alley."

                "But Fellon said his mother..."  Anders' eyes opened wide, "Why did you tell me he was your cousin?"

                "That's what we tell everyone, only a handful of people know the truth."

                "Why?'

                "We have our reasons, it doesn't matter."

                "I am sorry, Douglas, but it isn't my job to decide a person's fate, it is my job to save them if I can, murderer or not.  Don't you believe in the justice system?"

                Douglas answered quietly, "I believe in justice."

               

                This is where Varric had told him to go.  He looked around the abandoned foundry, someone clearly had been living there.  The bastard had to be here somewhere.

                "Ahhh, so they sent baby brother to do the dirty work this time."

                Douglas turned toward the murderer's voice, "Don't be absurd, I won the coin toss and how do you know he is my brother?"

                "I've met Fellon's father before and knew he at least had one.  Although truthfully, we all thought you were dead from rumors, yet here you stand.  It must have broken your mother's heart to have to look at you after your father was murdered."  Douglas didn't react to the words, but watched carefully.  The other man seemed to be moving toward a desk, most likely where he had hidden his weapon.  Douglas smiled and went over, sitting down, and Quentin glared back.  Douglas grabbed a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with a smirk.  "Funny, I always heard Fellon was the muscle and the brains and you were just a pretty face," there was a moment's pause, "Oh and good with your tongue... perhaps we can find out."

                "And perhaps you can drop dead and save me a bullet."  Douglas seemed to ponder the statement for a moment, "Nah, it's worth the bullets," and pulled his own gun from its normal position at his back and shot the other man in the knee.  Quentin screamed out in pain but somehow managed to remain upright, propping himself up against the walls, machinery, and furniture as he tried to get away on his one good leg. 

                Douglas slowly pursued the hobbling man, "The way I see it, my brother and I got lucky, and we both get to deal with you in our own ways.  Now, somehow you got lucky and got away from Fellon..."

                "Oh, he didn't tell you how I..."

                "How rude, I was talking," and Douglas shot him in the other knee.  Quentin fell over screaming, Douglas smirking back at the man's agony.  "I really don't care how you did it, because I got to hear with my own ears that wonderful sound you just made."  He stood over Quentin as he now tried to drag himself away with his arms, stepping on one leg wound, pinning him in place while the other man shrieked in pain.

                Douglas yanked him over, propping him up on the shattered knees and standing back up.  Quentin gasped out, "So tell me, baby Hawke, are you a bitch like your mother or a bitch like your big brother?  Although their screams were the same when I..."

                Douglas shot him through the lung close to the heart, sending Quentin falling backward, and Douglas squatted beside him.  "I was saving that one," he said as he pressed the muzzle of his gun against the newest wound.  "I know from experience what an injury like that feels like, but I also knew it would hinder your screams and ruin my fun."  Douglas looked at his watch, "Such a pity I had a previous appointment I have to keep… it has been such a thrill catching up."  He watched as the man's blood spread across the floor, "The other thing I know about that wound is that it is survivable and we wouldn't want that to happen again, now would we?  So, if there was anything else you wished to say..."  Quentin garbled something back through the blood choking his throat.  "No?  Alright then."  Douglas placed the barrel of his pistol against the bridge of Quentin's nose, watching the terror play out in the crossed grey eyes before pulling the trigger.

 

                "Douglas, are you alright?"  Anders took a step forward, closer to the other man.

                He snapped back to the present and looked at Anders, saying sadly, "I have to go," and quickly exited the clinic.