(reposting for @dahalloweenâs day for spirits and possession - an old ficlet, but one i never posted to tumblr. Cole tells a knock-knock joke.)
He doesnât know. Varricâs head is full of people who are real and not real and all of them hurt, and Cole doesnât know how to untangle it. But the knock-knock jokes help.
âOkay, kid, try it again like we practiced.â
âTwo pairs beats one pair. Four of a kind beats two pairs. She slips the ace of dragons into a thigh-high boot, calls to the barman for another round. Blondie stares at the table, angry, always angry.â
âFocus, kid. You can't beat four of a kind with bad memories.â
He says the memories are bad, but he doesnât want to forget them. He wants to spin them into stories, familiar faces hiding behind fake names. Maybe if he tells the story enough times, it'll have a different ending.
Maybe this time when Blondie tries to give him an old and tattered pillow, he sees a message in it. This time he says the right words, and tomorrow Blondieâs dark mood is gone and theyâre all back to playing cards. It was just another of Blondieâs bad days. They happen. They pass.
Cheer up, Blondie. Youâre making me cry just looking at you.
Youâve killed two hundred and fifty-four by my last count. Plus about five hundred men, a few dozen giant spiders, and at least two demons.
Why? Because this one you feel bad about? Maybe thatâs the problem.
Those were the wrong words.
The Hinterlands are burning, and Varricâs adding it to Blondieâs score. Or maybe his own score. He should have found the right words.
Another one for me! How many have you got, Hawke?
âItâs me, Cole. That is my name.â
âNo, no. Youâre still not getting it. Sorry, kid.â
But hearing the name helps the hurt, because heâs Cole, which means heâs real, heâs a person. And sometimes when Varric looks at him, heâs seeing someone else who was stuck halfway between person and spirit.
Varric asks him how he can fight with all that hair in his eyes, and he raises a hand and pushes it back, but then he stops because Varricâs seeing someone else raising his hands, tying his hair back. Nevermind. Stick with the hat. The hat looks good on you.
In Varricâs memories, heâs keeping the gangs away from the clinic door, and making sure Blondie actually shows up for cards with the guys, and they talk and they joke and they laugh even when itâs just Varric doing the laughing, and he makes sure Blondie remembers to be a person too, not just a cause.
Even when it makes Blondie angry. He is Justice, he says. You canât claim to support one and not the other.
But Blondie and Justice are as different as the older brother who both is and isnât here anymore, and Varric doesnât give a shit about the cause, he just wants his friends to be safe. Well-placed bribes and balls of twine. People and demons always end in trouble. Too many Daisies in this garden.
âI am good, Varric. I am me,â says Cole. âYou don't need to worry, but thank you for caring.â
âAl...right? Well, let me know if you ever... er... yeah.â
Cole understands how to tell a knock-knock joke. The punchlines are all there in Varricâs head. But hearing a punchline isnât what Varric needs. Varric needs to help him be a person.
The jokes work better this way.
âTry it again. Youâll get it.â
