Michael ached for Robert. He could see that Robert was hurting and feeling entirely helpless.
"Stop trying to hold it in," Michael said to him quietly. He knew that wasn't what anyone indoors wanted him to say to Robert, but Michael had a purpose. "You're safe, you're home, let it go."
Robert didn't believe in completely letting go, but Michael agitated him into a bit of a temper tantrum. He didn't care about limbs broken off trees, flowerbeds uprooted, or any of the rest of it. It was all replaceable. Robert, however, was not.
But he truly wasn't well enough to keep it going for long. Within a few minutes, he was sitting on the steps, exhausted, and the storm was dying down. Michael accio'd two bottles of beer and popped the caps on them. He sat down next to Robert and handed him one. The two of them sat outside in the crisp fall air and discussed the day's crises, as much as Robert was able to discuss anything.
Feeling that all was in hand, Angus returned to the kitchen and finished his dinner. He packaged up a large basket of dinner containers for those who would be eating at St. Mungo's tonight.
"Steven," Angus asked. "Would you mind taking this to St. Mungos and make sure they get them?" He had given them not just five star, but some of the best five star he had ever done. "And if Cassidy sets the table, we should be ready to bring the kids down for dinner when you get back. Oh, and do make sure that Brian and Kate are the ones who get the bottles labeled Cream Soda."
Edward laughed. "They're not Cream Soda?"
"Not even close," Angus laughed.
"If that's the case, you should put a couple extra of those in there, just in case."
"Okay," Angus laughed. He prepared a couple more bottles and put them in the basket. "Incidently, the colas really are just colas. And there are plenty of those. Hurry back, though, or you'll miss your own dinner. I think the basket is ready to go whenever you are, Steven."