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Alistair hadn't known what to say, when the rift had closed behind him with Garrett on the other side. He hadn't known what to tell Varric, how to explain to anyone why he was the one who had come back rather than the Champion of Kirkwall. There had been so much chaos in the immediate aftermath. The Inquisitor had been the one to tell Varric, and Alistair had seen the pain in the dwarf’s expression even as he stoically nodded his understanding.
Alistair hadn't been able to look him in the eyes.
He knew he should be the one to tell Bethany. Varric may have been Garrett's best friend, but Alistair had been there, he'd seen it happen, he'd let it happen. She needed to hear it from him.
He just had no idea how to tell the woman he loved that her brother was never coming home.
And unfortunately, he didn't have long to figure it out.
She had been among the Inquisition's forces, many of whom were filtering into the courtyard now that the fighting was over. Alistair scanned the increasingly crowded yard, looking for her chestnut curls among the sea of bloody, exhausted men and women.
“Alistair? Garrett?” He heard her before he could see her, her location indicated by taller soldiers stepping aside from her insistent momentum. “Alistair?”
“I'm here, Beth!” Alistair called out to her, pushing through the growing crowd towards the sound of her voice.
Bethany appeared, sidestepping a scout, and threw her arms around Alistair's neck. “Thank the Maker you're alright,” she sighed. “We saw the dragon come down and the bridge collapse. I feared the worst.”
Alistair wrapped her up in his arms, holding her tightly and feeling the tremors which had been held back by adrenaline begin to shake him. “We were on the bridge,” he told her softly. “The Inquisitor opened a rift as we fell. We ended up in the Fade.”
Inhaling sharply, Bethany pulled back, gripping his upper arms like a vice. “You what?” Her eyes were huge, her forehead creased with worry. “You were physically in the Fade?”
He nodded, his mouth gone dry. “The demon, the one that caused the false Calling, came for us. There was a spirit, it looked like the Divine, it weakened the demon, stopped the Calling—”
“Yes!” Bethany cut him off. “It suddenly stopped. We didn't know what to think.”
Alistair nodded again, swallowing hard. “We found a rift but the demon, what was left of it, blocked the exit. We couldn't get out.” He squeezed her shoulders. “We couldn't all get out.”
Bethany stared at him with those wide eyes, taking in his sorrowful expression and how the hands holding her shook, and let out a ragged breath. “Garrett,” she said softly. “Garrett didn't get out.”
He nodded, biting his lip. “He held it off to give the rest of us a chance to escape. I'm so sorry, Beth.”
She was quiet and too still as she absorbed his words. The skin around her eyes pinched in pain and she gripped him tighter. “He's… gone?”
Alistair felt a sob constricting his throat. He didn't have the right words to comfort her; he didn't know how. Instead, he pulled her close and held her tightly. She shook in his arms, her breathing ragged, then she sniffed and returned his embrace.
“Did he do it?” She asked, voice tight. “Did everyone else get out?”
He nodded firmly, the movement jostling their bodies. “Yes. Everyone else is safe. Because of him.”
She echoed his nod, sniffing again. “Good.” She took a deep breath, her body straightening once again as she squeezed Alistair. “That's what he wanted. It's all he ever wanted.”
Bethany leaned back from Alistair, but he didn't let her go. Her eyes were sad but dry, the set of her lips firm. “I'm so sorry,” he said again, guilt making his heart feel heavy.
“Does Varric know?” She looked past Alistair's shoulder into the throng of people, but there was no way she could have seen Varric. “He’ll be devastated; I should see him.”
She seemed so calm, so even, that Alistair realized she must be in shock. “The Inquisitor told him, as soon as we made it out.” He used one hand to gently turn her chin and her eyes back to him. “Are you alright?”
Nodding her head, Bethany took his hand in hers. “I'm alright.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “The truth is, I've always known that this would happen eventually. Not exactly like this, but I knew.”
Alistair squeezed her hand. Bethany wasn't putting on a strong face for him, she was resigned in a way he had only seen in old Wardens; ones who had seen too many people die around them. Bethany had lost her father, her brother, and her mother in such quick succession, events like that changed someone, changed their perspective.
“Are you alright?” Bethany asked when Alistair was silent for too long.
He shook himself, nodding firmly. “Nicks and scrapes. Nothing to worry about.”
She smiled, her brows pinched. “I didn't mean physically. Garrett was your friend, Alistair.”
He had been. They'd traveled together for months, searching for an answer to the false Calling that was driving the Wardens mad. Both worried for Bethany, both determined to find the answer no matter the risks. He nodded slowly. “I will miss him. He was brave. Braver than me.”
Alistair didn't feel the sob in his throat until it burst from between his lips. He pulled Bethany close again, burying his face in her shoulder as he cried and she stroked his back comfortingly.
“He chose to stay behind,” he murmured, voice muffled. “It was his choice, but I feel like I left him.”
Bethany squeezed him tightly. “You know how he was. Garrett would have tossed you out on your ass whether you liked it or not.”
Alistair laughed, but it devolved into another sob. “I know. There was no arguing with him.” He bit his lip. “But I feel like a coward. I feel like I let him die.”
“You did everything you could,” Bethany said softly. “I don't blame you. He didn't blame you.”
He nodded against her shoulder. Despite knowing, knowing it wasn't his fault, hearing it still took some of the tension from his chest. “I'm always going to blame myself,” he whispered, knowing she would understand.
“I know you will,” she told him, sniffing again. “And I'll be there to tell you you're wrong, just like you do for me.” She turned her head to press her lips to his cheek, holding him tightly.
Alistair turned his head to catch her lips with his own. “Thank you, Bethany.”
She smiled and kissed him again, a quick peck. “There's nothing that needs thanking. We take care of each other.”
“We take care of each other,” he agreed. “Like Garrett would have wanted.”
For the first time, Bethany’s eyes looked damp, and she nodded firmly. “Just like him to leave the work to us.”
Both of them chuckled, a sound that was not quite happy, but not altogether sad either.
“Where’s Varric?” She asked again. “I’ve got to see him.”
Alistair took her hand, pulling her gently through the crowd. “Guess we’ve got to take care of him too now.”
Bethany pushed up to his side, her footfalls matching his and his grateful smile reflected on her face. “Maker knows somebody has to.”