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Can't Let You Go	By : Ellynndaria Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 7633 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: We do not own Dragon Age, nor the characters from it. We do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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            Well, the party was going off without a hitch; not that it was ever a problem, Douglas’ parties were always a hit. Fellon glanced away from Bela and Fenris on the dance floor as they swayed together to the music, staring down into his drink. Despite the success of the party, something just wasn’t quite right tonight. He’d been getting a strange sense of “wrongness,” for lack of a better word, from Douglas all day but had dismissed it as a case of party jitters. Douglas always got so keyed up over his parties; but the last time Fellon suggested he stop throwing the damn things, Douglas had looked at him like he’d just kicked Loki in the head. Fellon shook his head at the memory. Of course, he’d been in the wrong to suggest something to ease Douglas’ stress; silly him. Still, once Douglas stopped fussing and actually took a moment to enjoy, Halloween was his favorite time of year.
            With a frown, Fellon’s gaze flicked up to the VIP balcony, thinking of Douglas. He was currently in his office, changing his shirt. Fellon couldn’t help a slight scoff; mostly likely Douglas would come out wearing an entirely new outfit, because he couldn’t find anything to match what he was already wearing.
            Fellon tossed back his drink and slammed the glass down on the bar, giving himself a good mental shake. Tossing a large bill onto the bar top, he made sure the bartender saw it before he moved out onto the dance floor to join his lovers, the three of them finding an easy rhythm together and moving together as flawlessly as they could in the bedroom. For a while, Fellon was able to ignore the “wrongness” feelings. He was vaguely aware of Douglas’ “friend” excusing himself from Bianca and Varric’s company on the edge of the milling dance floor and making his way for the stairs. Hm. Apparently Dougie was taking too long with his wardrobe for the Doc’s peace of mind. Poor guy was in for a rude awakening; Douglas was almost as bad as most women when it came to getting his clothes just right. Barely holding back a disgusted sigh, Fellon buried his nose in the crook of Bela’s neck as she rolled her hips erotically into his, while Fenris ground at her from the front. It was a position Fellon hoped to mimic horizontally sometime after the party. Or maybe sooner, if his Bela’s groan of approval was any indication.
            The sensations of shock, pain, and horror hit Fellon so fast, he actually cried out, the sound blessedly camouflaged by the music and the crowd. Fellon took a shuddering breath, eyes snapping toward the balcony. Douglas.
            Before Isabela could ask what was wrong, Fellon was running for the stair and taking them two at a time to get to his brother. Half-way up, he met Anders, who was practically flying down the stairs; so fast he nearly knocked Fellon backward when their shoulders collided. “What the hell?!” Fellon growled, but the blonde didn’t even pause, dashing blindly onto the dance floor and shoving his way toward the exit.
            Fellon was furious; obviously, that blonde bastard had done something to his brother. With a low growl, he turned back down the stairs, running after the fleeing man. “Hey! Get the hell back here! What the fuck did you do?!” He chased Anders out the door, but was too late; by the time Fellon hit the sidewalk, Anders was already in a cab, and it was pulling out into traffic. He only caught a glimpse of the doctor, but it looked as if he were crying.
            Giving a curse, Fellon stomped back into the club, muttering all the while. It didn’t help that the rush of feelings he was experiencing had yet to dissipate. A frown deepened the lines on Fellon’s face; Douglas was usually fairly quick to recover from a shock. Had Anders done something? Fucking lovers’ quarrel most likely, he had warned his brother it was bound to happen. He returned to the bar, ordering a drink and cursing his luck for having to deal with the fallout, too.
* * *
            Douglas couldn't hold back anymore, and shoved away from the exhausted couple, running for the bathroom to throw up with tears flowing down his own cheeks. I have to fix this, and he tried to push away from the bowl, as soon as I can pull my head out of the toilet, and he threw up again. The woman stood over him in the doorway, fully dressed again, "You know, that couldn't have gone better if I planned it. You realize what he is thinking and that he won't believe anything else? He watched his man enjoy someone else's company while he wasn't even invited, but at least he knows you returned the favors."
            Douglas' heart broke as he realized what she said was true.
            She held up the envelope, "But look on the bright side, you’ll be heartbroken and we didn't have to touch him. Too bad though, I was really looking forward to getting a taste of him. As promised." She tossed the envelope on the floor beside him and turned to leave. "Thanks for everything, beautiful," floated back to him as she disappeared.
            He scrambled to his feet after he threw up again, making sure they had left. Douglas locked the door before grabbing his clothes and heading back to the bathroom. Using a small nail brush, he scrubbed himself raw, throwing up again when he washed the blood and ejaculate from his backside. Underwear and pants back on, he looked at the wine stain on his shirt that started this whole mess, and then twisted the delicate fabric angrily in his hands, listening to it tear under the stress. Dropping the now tattered rag to the floor, he brushed his teeth and tongue while contemplating gargling bleach.
            His eyes spied the yellow rectangle still on the floor, and he picked it up. This would make it all worth it even though his and Anders' hearts were broken into a million pieces. He opened it up, shaking out the contents into his hand, a folded sheet of white paper falling out wrapped around what felt like photos. He opened up the paper, scrawled words reading: Tell anyone what happened, and he'll be next. Douglas let out a choked sob when he flipped over the pictures. They were of Anders taken from a distance; one of him and Douglas kissing in front of his house, another in front of his clinic, and other various locations and situations.
            Douglas fell back against the wall, his head bouncing off it where he now seemed to have a knot and he slid to the floor with a thump and a wince when he's backside hit the hard marble. He looked at the pictures and the note again through tears.   There were only four people left in this world he would die for, the Coterie already having claimed two and in an effort to protect one he had offered himself and lost another while the bastards still threatened them. They must have known he wouldn't betray his brother, even if it was to protect him.
            He thought he heard something in his dazed state, but he wasn't sure, someone talking or something. There was a pounding this time on his office door, "Douglas! It's Fellon, open up!" He ignored the demand, looking back at the pictures in his hand. The wall he was leaning against shook when there was another loud bang, "Damnit, Dougie, open the damned door, NOW!"
            He hated when Fellon called him that, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with him right now, but he also knew a locked door wouldn't keep him or any of his friends away for long. Within a minute there was some walking around in the office, and he looked at the note and pictures. He crumpled the sheet of paper, throwing it in the toilet and flushing it. Douglas was still trying to shove the photos in his pocket when Fellon's voice came through the door, "You two have a lovers'.... quarrel?"
            The last word dragged out as the partially ajar door opened wider, and Fellon noticed him sitting on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, but finally getting the pictures in his pocket. He kept his bruised cheek turned away, an arm across his bruised ribs and his still crying gaze directed to the floor. "Douglas, what happened?"
            The first question was ignored, but he answered, "Nothing," to the second.
            "And I'm Commissioner Stannard. Why'd Anders fly down the stairs earlier, looking like somebody just fed his cat to Ares?" Fellon took a few steps into the small room.
            Douglas still averted his gaze, trying to hide the bruise from Fellon. "I always thought she was a homicidal maniac," again trying to deflect the conversation.
            "Well, she wouldn't look half as good in these jeans, and I told her so." Fellon kept his distance, but squatted down where he stood, bringing himself down to Douglas' level, "Now, what the hell happened?"
            Douglas huffed a half-hearted laugh at the unexpected joke, his eyes moving and looking at Fellon for a moment before redirecting to the floor. He shifted trying to make himself more comfortable, wincing in pain, but shrugged, saying, "I did something he didn't like."
            Fellon's light brows drew together, in a tone mostly filled with confusion but also containing a small hint of concern, "Douglas?" He leaned slightly as if trying to see the other side of his face, but it turned further away still. Fellon inched forward, reaching out for his shoulder.
            Douglas pulled away from the approaching hand with a cringe, "Don't."
            Fellon froze, his hand hovering halfway to its destination and his eyebrow arched to his hairline. "...Alright. I can tell when I'm not wanted." He cursed under his breath as he stood back up, "But I am going to find out what happened, Douglas. And if I find out that little blonde bitch has anything to do with this...”
            Douglas’ eyes opened wider with shock, how did he know about her already? His mind started to race in panic as he tried to figure out how to talk his way out this before something happened to Anders.
            Fellon gestured at Douglas pointedly where he was huddling on the bathroom floor, "...he really will be the woman in the relationship," and with that, Fellon turned on his heel and stalked out.
            It took a minute for the last part of what Fellon said to register in his panicked thoughts; Fellon thought Anders did this. "Oh God." Douglas' stomach tried to throw up again even though it was empty, racking his body with pain from his heaving stomach and bruised ribs. Once again, Anders was in danger because of him, and he started sobbing uncontrollably.
            Isabela entered the bathroom a few minutes later, "Babe?" her voice already concerned, and he turned to look at her without a thought in his numb mind. "Babe!" Isabela exclaimed as she saw his face.
She knelt down beside him, and he leaned away slightly from her. "Did Anders do that?" Douglas shook his head roughly in denial, unable to actually answer through his crying. Her tone was still unbelieving, but she said, "Okay."
            Douglas dropped his hands to the floor and hung his head, jumping away in pain when a hand gingerly touched his ribs. "Oh, babe, what happened?" He continued to sob as he realized he couldn't even tell Isabela the truth, he told her everything. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, trying to comfort him, and he winced when they brushed one of the knots. Pulling her hand away, she called in shock, "Fellon!"
            He looked at her, shaking his head in fear, "No!"
            It was too late, Fellon must have been waiting in the office, and Douglas' eyes met his. Fellon's bright blue eyes narrowed in rage at the large bruise, "I'm going to fucking kill that little bitch!"
            Isabela shook her head at Fellon, "Anders didn't do this; he wouldn't of had the time." Douglas let her lift his arm to show his brother his bruised ribs, "He has a knot," running her hand across the side of his hair soothingly but shaking her head in dismay when she found another, "knots on his head, too."
            Douglas looked at the floor, mumbling, "I want to go home."
            Fellon answered, "Not until you tell me who the hell did this!"
            Douglas didn't reply, his body trembling in exhaustion, fear, pain and sorrow. Isabela said, "It's alright; I'll take you home." Picking up the discarded shirt, she was amazed to find it ruined before lowering it. "Fellon, go get him a shirt and his shoes."
            Fellon looked like he was about to object, but after the look Isabela gave him, he turned and left the room. Within a couple of minutes, he returned with the items requested. Douglas had completely shut down by this point, and she put on his socks and shoes for him. They helped him to his feet, and Fellon was about to start helping him on with his shirt when he noticed the fingerprint shaped bruises on the back of Douglas' neck. Fellon's eyes trailed lower to discover partially revealed fingerprints on Douglas' hips. He slipped the shirt over his brothers' arms, Isabela buttoning it up. Distracted by his own thoughts, he went to tuck in the shirt like his brother always wore it until Douglas started to shake violently, and he stopped. Isabela looked at Fellon over Douglas' shoulder having also noticed the other bruises, "Maybe we should take him to the hospital."
            Douglas snapped back, "NO! I want to go home."
            "Babe, we really should... "
            "God dammit, Isabela, I said I wanted to go home!" Douglas screamed at the top of his lungs, echoing in the small tiled room.
            Her eyes were wide in shock and concern for him, but she nodded saying reassuringly, "Alright, babe." She turned to Fellon, "I'll take him home, have the car pulled around to the back and then you stay here and take care of the club.” They both knew what she really meant, stay here and figure out what the hell happened, also knowing there was a better chance of Douglas opening up to just her.
            Isabela and Douglas waited a few minutes after Fellon left and walked back through the office, Douglas having an absurd thought of needing to straighten his desk as he finally noticed the state the evening's activities had put it in. He looked away in shame, and Isabela lead him out the back entrance to the waiting car.
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Can't Let You Go