clumsy_auror | (no subject)

(no subject)

They enter the flat slowly; Ellie bounds up, and then stops, her head cocked to the side, perplexed.

It's early; almost too early for the kids to be up.

Almost.

When they get to the hall, Anthony seems to sense their presence from the master bedroom, and begins to wail. 'Dora deposits Bernard on his side of the bed, and crawls across to the baby, picking him up and patting his back. "I know. I know. You're dying."

Once Anthony is fed and changed and settled in his cot for the moment, 'Dora turns her attention back to her husband.

He's been sitting on the edge of the bed this entire time. Hasn't even taken his coat off.

She walks around to his side of the bed again and kneels, unlacing one shoe, almost biting through her lip. "We need to get some ice for your head, love. You can't go to sleep."

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"I won't. I promise."

Nymphadora kisses his forehead again and then stands, darting quickly to the kitchen, tripping on an errant dining room chair in her haste.

She returns in less than thirty seconds, having warmed the water with a quick Latin incantation, and eases him to a horizontal position before sitting next to him.

"All right. Here we are." Very gently she holds Bernard's head up, careful not to brush the goose egg, and tips the mug of sweet tea to his lips.

Bernard sips obediently, but shoots her a baleful glance. "Hate tea."

"Don't fight me on it, Bernard, sweet tea is the best thing for shock."

Her voice is quiet but firm, and she doesn't take the mug away.

He's starting to shiver now, and shifts onto his side, his eyes losing some focus. "I went after him, I'm sorry, but he didn't even have a coat, and it was so cold--"

"Bernard." Nymphadora's voice is quiet, but sharp, and she nods when his eyes dart to hers. It's hard to be this way with him, when she can see that she's a lifeline, but he needs a firm hand now. "You're in shock. You need to calm down. I'm going to get your pyjamas--" She stands and walks around the bed to the dresser and pulls out some flannel pyjama pants and a black t-shirt. "--and you're going to put them on and rest. Crowley is all right." She sits again, and tosses the discarded peacoat over a chair, leaning forward to unbutton Bernard's shirt. "You need to try and be calm now, and feel better. We don't even have to talk about it at all."

She's not sure she ever wants to talk about it, from the way he's acting. She pauses, and lets her hand smooth over his hair, softening her words.

Bernard bites his lip, nodding slowly, and wipes away a few errant tears, sitting up slowly to get his pyjamas on.

As he peels off his shirt, he reveals fresh bruises on his side, as if he were kicked hard (or tripped over by two people and a god); the pants reveal a knee that's turning black and green, as if he fell on it with his entire weight.

Nymphadora hisses and grips her wand hard to keep the tip from shaking as she slides to the floor again, whispering more healing spells. The marks on his side clear right up, though there may be contusions deeper in; his knee turns from black and green to black and blue, which seems to be an improvement.

Anger fists in her gut as her husband slowly pulls the clothes on as if by rote, but her voice is quiet when she speaks. "It looks like somebody kicked you."

"Uh." Bernard rubs one eye rhythmically and for far longer than he needs to. "Few people tripped over me in the house. Don't think they meant to." He hitches a breath in, out. "I was in the way."

Gently, Nymphadora pulls his fist away from his reddened eye, and uncurls his hand to kiss the palm. "You're all right. You'll be fine. I love you."

He stares at her, arrested. When he speaks, his voice is... odd.

"I love you, too."

Suddenly, he slides to the floor, clutching her into his arms.

"I didn't think I was coming back."

Quickly she sets down the mug of tea to hold him close, one hand smoothing down his wild hair.

"But you did. You did come back. You're right here with me."

He nods, his eyes roving over her face hungrily. "So. Here we are." He laughs. and it's short and not entirely calm. "At least it's Sunday."

"It is. C'mon, let's get you into bed where it's warm."

'Dora clambers to her feet and turns down the bed, holding out a hand to pull Bernard up and into bed.

He climbs in and turns on his left side gingerly, wincing as his lump brushes the pillow. "How'm I gonna stay awake if I'm all warm and horizontal?"

"I'll keep you--"

There's a thin cry from Anthony's room; the baby's laid listening to the low murmuring of his parents for long enough, he feels, and now he wants to see Daddy.

"--oh bugger, I'll be right back."

Bernard lies there, listening to the early morning sounds, and smiles as Ellie wanders in and props her chin on the bed, inquiring as to the space of the accomodations.

"Go on, then."

She does.

"...It's all right, sweetheart, I'm taking you to see him, just mind you don't wake your sister, yeah?"

The witch returns, patting Anthony's back. He twists around and sees Bernard, then holds his arms out impatiently.

Bernard starts to prop himself up on one elbow, then realizes that this? Not a good idea!

"Oof." He holds out an unsteady hand. "Maybe he should just come on the bed with us. I'm not sitting up anytime soon. Vertigo."

Worrying her lip, Nymphadora sets Anthony down on the bed, and the baby crawls his way over to Bernard (grabbing a sizeable handful of Ellie's fur at one point for leverage).

Ellie whines and moves away; Anthony pauses and pats her clumsily, then flops onto Daddy, babbling and patting his cheek.

Bernard smiles over at his son and kisses him, running a shaky hand over his dark hair. "Look at you. Didn't even notice I was gone, did you, monkey?"

'Dora looks away, busying herself with adjusting the covers and petting Ellie so that she can avoid Bernard's gaze.

Because Anthony did notice. He and Sunny both did. But that's not something for Bernard to know, just now.

"Hey." Anthony stops babytalking, gazing at his father, rapt. "C'mere. Gimme a hug."

Anthony considers this for a moment, then throws his arms around Bernard's chest as best he can, which... doesn't get him that far.

Bernard grins, his eyes wet.

"See? He gets us. Freaky, huh?"

"Just a little," she allows, her voice soft. Reaching over, she brushes her hand over Anthony's back, and kisses her husband's forehead. "Get you anything?"

"I dunno," Bernard murmurs, letting Anthony crawl onto him a bit. "Never been knocked on the head this hard."

"I have. So I reckon you'll be feeling a bit-- well, in and out, for a while. Did you lose consciousness?"