Bad Blood

Chapter 8 - Sapphire Eyes

His nostrils burned and tears bubbled out from his eyes as the ammoniac stench of the smelling salt filled his nose. Alistair coughed as slowly regained his consciousness and the realization hit him that he was lying on a hospital bed. His trousers felt wet and he didn't want to know why, although the intent smell oozing from the fabric gave him some hint. He was still trembling, bathing in a cold sweat, pain pulsating in his temple. He was nictitating by the sudden and hurtful light flooding from the window. The doctor called Anders pushed a syringe under his skin into his veins, something spreading across his body and slowly his muscles relaxed and the trembling eased.

"What did you give him?" he heard Cullen's voice muffled in his head.

"A mild lyrium tincture," the doctor answered as pushed a cotton ball against his skin and bent his arms. "We use it for epileptic-like attacks."

Cullen suddenly was filled with an uneasy sensation. Not because of what he witnessed in the corridors, although he had never seen anything like that before. Alistair had uncontrollably writhed on the tile floor, his mouth filled with white foam. A yellow puddle gathered under him. But the worst was his eyes. That glassy and empty glance as if his soul had wanted to leave his body and it had done everything to hinder. He heard stories about people who were in the war having this disease but he'd never thought that Alistair... he knew he had nightmares, but this...

" Lyrium? Are you out of your mind, Anders?" he hissed. He was more concerned about that syringe. The moment that word, 'lyrium' left his mouth he involuntarily felt the smell of it as sang to him, the small, half-empty vial magnetized his glance.

"Relax, Rutherford. This is a medical tincture, not raw lyrium you dosed yourself with," Anders scoffed. Alistair groaned as slowly tried to sit up. The whole world spun with him, his mouth flooded with saliva, his stomach roiling.

"I need... I need a bucket or something-" the rest of his words were lost as he heaved over the side of the bed, liquid traces of his breakfast from hours ago spreading on the tile floor. Tears streamed down his weary face.

"Easy, detective, you are still in shock," Anders said as pushed him back on the bed and fetched a nurse to clean the floor and go for an infusion. "It is an hour and you'll be like new," the doctor said heading to the door, placing his hand on Cullen's shoulder to usher out the room. "Let him rest."

The corridor was still crowded with the injured by the latest rebellion in the Alienage. Cullen would have lied if said he knew much about it. These things were usually handled by the city guards, the Department D of the Police. Alistair and himself was part of Department A, although these days he heard rumors of a name landing on the desk of the Bureau more and more often in connection with these riots.

They passed the injured civilians, heading to Anders' office. The Chief Resident's office was a small austere office, a desk with a lamp and chair, a cabinet filled with vials, accurately labeled, and a huge filing cabinet filled with patient files, cataloged in strict alphabetical order. Cullen idly played with the thought of one file about the unexpected appearance of Evie in Anders' office that morning. He could give a lot to take a peek at it. Those stitches and bruises...

The doctor sat down at his desk and invited Cullen to do the same on the one where usually his patients did. "What about you, Cullen. Migraines, nightmares?" he asked. It was a professional inquiry, nothing more. Anders' voice was flat and mechanical as if he laid on his examination table.

"Both," he answered with a shrug as it should. The doctor registered it with a nod without any further questions. "Who is this Dread Wolf you mentioned before?"

Anders cast a surprised glance on him. "Well well, you should be more informed than me. You have no intel at the Bureau?"

"I cut my ties with them," Cullen snapped. The doctor raised his eyebrows, and Cullen felt the biting comment on the tongue of the doctor and only the Maker knew why he didn't give it a voice eventually.