Violent violet and bubblegum pink

Bernard turns his head, a little easier now, and smiles.

His cheek's healed, now. The scars look like a letter that's been dripped with water, or tears.

"Hey."

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"Hi," 'Dora says softly, smiling wearily around at the collective.

She hasn't slept since... well. A while. But she's not interested in doing so now, either. It's hard to focus on much of anything, hard to sit still. Easier to do things. Keep her mind and hands busy.

"Can I get anyone a cuppa?"

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Kathleen shakes her head, smiling warmly, her hand clutching Bernard's like a lifeline. "No, thank you."

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"I'm all right, darlin', I'm all right." Dude smiles crookedly and shifts Anthony from one knee to the other. "Think your little one might have a hankering for his dinner, thought."

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"Ah, yes, it is about that time." 'Dora straightens from where she's been pressing a kiss to Sunny's and Bernard's foreheads, and takes the baby. He yawns, and blinks solemnly, but looks a bit more settled than he's been all day. "Where's your blankie, eh? Is it in your bag? Here it is."

Nymphadora settles herself in the chair in the corner, and situates Anthony to nurse beneath the blanket.

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Bernard watches them hungrily, his thumb circling on Sunny's back. "Have you heard about anyone else? Did, um. Did Aron make it?"

He'd thrown himself on top of Aron, at the last minute. But that doesn't mean anything.

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Nymphadora pales.

She was hoping to put off this bit for a while, at least.

But maybe it's just better to get it over with.

"Aron's all right. Jonathan'll be okay, as well, after a bit. Elektra's okay, at least physically -- I found out after you said something about her this morning, it was Rosemary, not Elektra. Rosemary died. So did Derrick."

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Kathleen's hand tightens on Bernard's. "And Raph's fine, as we saw."

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Bernard's eyes shut. "Jonas?"

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'Dora just shakes her head.

There hadn't been much left of Jonas, in the end.

The Inferi weren't kind.

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Dude is pale and silent, just watching.

The toll isn't unexpected given the wireless reports they'd heard.

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As if Bernard wasn't pale before...

"Okay."

It's not okay. Not at all.

For a moment, he just concentrates on breathing.

"Well. Looks like I got off lucky."

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She nods jerkily, fumbling a bit more than usual in the process of switching Anthony to the other breast.

"The, um. The twins--"

But she can't go on; the tears are already streaming silently down her face, and she still can't look at Bernard, and she feels so open and so exposed and this is the part she's been cutting herself off from, as long as she could.

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"Who--" Kathleen breaks off, looking at Nymphadora, and at Bernard.

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Bernard's breath hitches. His eyes close.

"No."

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The witch's face crumples, but she tries to steady herself, not wanting to disturb Anthony. "W-wasn't the Inferi. So at l-least there's that."

Not that it's much.

"From what I heard, they were in a bit of a tight spot, up with the flyers, and decided to go out with a proverbial b-bang."

She gives her husband a watery smile.

"Guess it was a bloody incredible sight to see."

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He can't even cover his eyes.

Bernard lets out a laugh-sob. "Jesus Christ, those fuckers. I never even got to see them."

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"I know, sweetheart. I know."

There isn't much else to say.

Nymphadora wipes her eyes on the edge of Anthony's blanket, and sniffs heartily.

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"I'm sorry," Dude says finally, his voice quiet. "Can't even imagine. Can't imagine it at all."

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Kathleen's been watching quietly, clutching Bernard's limp hand all the while.

"What were their names?"

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"Fred and George," she replies, buttoning up her robes and patting Anthony's back, smiling a bit in spite of herself. "Brilliant, the both of them. And ruddy insane, too. Rather like this one over here, in a lot of ways." A nod in Bernard's direction

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Bernard laughs wetly. "Used to finish each other's sentences. Tarred and feathered me when I stole 'Dora out from under their brother."

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She's laughing too, at that. "They did. You were picking tar out of your ears for a solid week, I was so mad at them."

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