The woman takes in a breath. What she's been told to ask will not be easy, and she's more than aware of Hawke's quick temper.

"The thing is, for us to remain hidden, to keep the others in our care safe, we can't recruit. Not without exposing ourselves. But, there are people out there who align with us, and we know they can be trusted. People with contacts in places with information we couldn't get otherwise."

"And where are these magical people?"

The woman swallows nervously, and drinks a little more of her whisky.

"Well, you are a former Paladin, are you not?"

Hawke goes very still. 

And then the glass in her hand shatters. 

She draws a knife, and holds it to the Railroader's neck, her other hand keeps her head still. 

"You want me, me, to go back to those soulless fucks, and beg for my position back? You want me to go crawling back on my belly to the people who murdered my sister and sent my brothers far enough away that I cannot reach them?"

She presses the knife into the woman's neck. Blood starts to bead along it. "The same people who would've killed my husband if they'd found out what he was?"

The woman is trembling, her heart thumping. She's never been so scared for her life, but oddly enough it makes her mind clearer. 

"Yes. And you know we wouldn't if it wasn't necessary. We're falling too far behind. We don't get new intel from people who can track the Institute, we're sunk. You may as well say goodbye to Anders forever, because we lose his trail, he's gone."

Hawke growls in the back of her throat, but takes the knife away, stowing it back in its sheathe.

The bartender lowers his shotgun from Hawke's head. "You two wanna brawl, take it outside."

He replaces the shotgun below the bar. "You owe me for that glass, too."

Hawke throws caps onto the bar, snarling. 

After a moment, her anger seems less like a wildfire, and more...simmering. She lets herself relax a little. The Railroader has a point. 

"I thought the only way I'd go back is with a Fatman."

"Maybe not yet, but when the time comes, we'll happily help with that."

"Huh." Hawke almost laughs. 

She stands, readjusts her armour, and prepares to head out the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" The woman stands, half moving to follow her.

"Long way to the Citadel from here. I'd better get started."

Hawke goes to leave, stops, looks back. "I'll send word once I know anything. We'll set up drops later. Thanks. For everything else. But fuck you for this."

And then she's out the door, heading into the waste.

Days later, Hawke presses the intercom on the great doors of the Citadel, fighting down bile.

"Yes?" A male voice sounds.

"It's Paladin Hawke. I've come home."

The voice chuckles. "Finally! You've come to your senses?"

"Completely. You'll find me a changed woman."

"Well, we won't deny we could use your help. Come on in, Elder Lyons will want to welcome you home."

The great doors open.

Hawke swallows fury, bile, pain, fear, regret-

And walks in.

In my heart I have but one desire,

And that one is you.

No other will do.