But I know, all I know, is that the end's beginning.

The sight of her husband so thoroughly done in was not one that was going to disappear from behind his wife’s eyelids at any great point of speed or tempo. No, as she drew her hands over his chest, wondering whether the wounds would take to some healing salve and heal without scarring, she didn’t think she could ever wipe the sight of him from the night before entirely from her mind. Even now, knowing how she had zipped up his skin as though it was cloth and not part of him, she felt distraught.

“Have you actually looked at yourself?” She snapped, screwing her face up with utter dismay. “You were falling to bits, Keiran!” She rose up a little in the water, as though it was an articulation of her point. “You were covered in blood and you were white as a sheet and I thought, I thought…” Millie bit her lip, lowering her eyes to the bubbles simmering around them. She lifted her hands out of the water to push them around a bit, cupping a large blob into her palms.

She didn’t know how Keiran could be so calm. There was no other way to be, she realised that, because there was nothing he could do but even so. She almost felt a little ridiculed for her worry but she knew better than to think that way. It might have been unfounded, being as he was fine as far as she could see herself, but the fact that it had happened when it shouldn’t have done mortified her. It made everything they’d argued about seem ridiculous. It had shaken her out of her passive aggressive manner of treating him. She’d been shown what she could lose.

“You don’t get it,” she implored, turning to reach for one of the cups that she used to wash the twins’ hair. She gathered up a little bit of the water and then turned back to grab off of the shelf above the taps a bottle of shampoo. “I thought you weren’t going to come out of this so yes, I’m scared.”

She lifted the cup up and poured it over his head, pouting a little, feeling oddly satisfied because of it. Her lips betrayed her though when they spread into a smirk and she scooped up a bit more water. Another dash across his head and she abandoned the cup to float wherever it deemed it wanted to. Grabbing hold of the shampoo she squirted a dollop of the strawberry coloured liquid into her palm and looked at him, wondering how she was going to do this.

Decisively, Millie got up out of the water long enough to hop round behind him. She pushed at his back, it having thankfully survived, and slid in behind him, her legs coming either side of his.

“Lean back against me,” she murmured, waiting until he acquiesced before sliding her fingers and the shampoo into his hair.

Millie slowly lathered the shampoo through his dark locks, scratching her nails absently across his scalp, just enough to be soothing and not actually hurt. Occasionally she wiped her hand across his forehead to get rid of the stray streaks of soap but mainly she stuck to massaging around the crown of his head until no longer could she linger there under the pretence of making sure every stray hair was coated in sweet smelling foam. Grabbing after the cup as it floated by she gathered up some of the water and put her hand on her hairline to prevent the soap from being carried off here, there and everywhere and poured the water gently over his head, washing his hair free of the shampoo.

“There,” she announced softly, continuing to draw her fingers through his hair. “You’re squeaky clean.”

Keiran drew in a slow breath through his nose, eyes following her as she moved, clearly frustrated with him. He wasn’t at all okay with what had happened to him, despite appearances. Already, the pain and the general inability to do just about anything had him directing his anger at the wrong people as well as himself. Before he could stop the words from escaping, Keiran let out an annoyed groan. “You think I don’t know? I thought I was dying! I was ready to give up. But I couldn’t,” he added pointedly, moving as best as he could to ensure that she would look directly at him, his fingers curling around her wrist for the contact he suddenly needed. “I couldn’t go without you. I couldn’t leave the twins. Somehow that sounds selfish and over protective all at once, so while I really am sorry, I just can’t help it.”

His hand slid up her arm with a bit of effort from his shoulder, fingers curling behind her ear and into Millie’s hair. “You have to understand, baby. If I continue thinking that this won’t end, I’ll just continue down that path I was on. The one that led you to believe I didn’t care enough, and the one that led to my not being prepared enough to keep those kids safe. Worse than those kids, even: My own barely recognize me most days. I wasn't here, and somebody else was - and I'm not trying to rehash anything, I'm just saying. I should've been here but I didn't pay enough attention or, or got caught up in worrying about everything at once and I failed on all counts."

If Millie hadn't caught on to his innate and desperate fear of that very thing, Keiran couldn't say she knew him at all. Anyone who actually took the time to get to know him would have picked up on it, so it wasn't like he was throwing her a curve ball or referencing something she hadn't been made privy to. She would understand, Keiran told himself. She had to.

All he had left to worry about besides his family, really, were the kids he had been forced to leave behind after the accident. "Have you even heard anything from Robin or Baldric about the other students? Millie, no one has even told me how they’re doing. They weren’t even all in one place since we split them up. It was supposed to keep them safe, but obviously that didn't work, either. You can’t imagine I’m not sitting here and trying to be in this for you. I want to do the bonding thing. I want that – I do. There are just so many things happening and going on in my head and... I don’t even know, okay? I just… don’t know.”

He shook his head at her words but halted the motion when she lifted the cup to wet his hair. He wondered briefly if he should feel affronted by the motion, but then decided that the options were highly limited so it was hardly either person’s fault. “It’s okay, Missie,” he murmured, turning to watch her as she shifted behind him. Once they had settled, he leaned to one side so he could turn his chin and rest his forehead against her temple. The drops of water trailed down his cheek as well as down hers, but he couldn’t find it in him to feel bad about it. “I get it,” he continued finally. “I’m scared, too.”

Normally he wouldn’t dare admit as much, but it was his Missie, and he needed to trust her with such things. Maybe if he had always been more open, he wouldn’t have been able to pull away. Keiran would have missed it too much, he was sure, because it actually felt quite good. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then tilted his head to drop a lingering one at the corner of her mouth before offering the most reassuring smile he could manage. It wasn’t too terribly long before she had finished washing through his hair, and Keiran half wished she would just keep on since it felt so comfortable, and he once again found himself enjoying the feeling of being looked after.

He hummed lightly in appreciation, leaning his head back against her shoulder despite their height difference. It occurred to him suddenly that he had failed to actually thank Millie for everything she had done in the past day or so, when he had pointed out how grateful he was for the men who had rescued and sorted him out for that first space of time.

“Thank you, Melissa,” he murmured, risking limb once more, potentially. “I should have said sooner.” He burrowed a bit into her neck, lips roving over her skin. “I love you so much. Even if I’m not very good at showing it sometimes. So I just want to get us back to good and figure out what to do with these kids until I’m better. I’ll have to talk to Jack and Eli, I guess.” Lifting his head, he shrugged it off, adding, “But for now, there’s something else I want to do.”

A deep breath and a sheepish smile later, Keiran trailed his fingers over her leg, needing more than just the contact that his leaning into her provided. “Can I… um, can I see our babies?”

It had been months, or at least it had felt like it, since they’d had a bath together. These weren’t the ideal circumstances. The anxiety she was trying to quell within her and the sheer state of him trussed up like a Christmas turkey did nothing to inspire any of the usual feelings such an encounter would have gotten from her. No instead she kept the rhythm of her fingers sliding through his wet hair, her eyes boring a hole into the opposing end of the bath as she got swept up in her thoughts. His voice broke over that, coaxing her free of everything she felt bearing down upon her, upon them.

“You don’t have permission to die,” she said resolutely, turning her head to brush her lips against his cheek. “You just want a simple life, don’t you? Think of the bollocking you would have gotten if you had died.”

She could joke a little now but her arms still tightened around him, as though her doing so would somehow impede the forces that had been acting against them. Somehow his being in her arms protected him, at least in her mind. There, no one could get through. In all of the animalistic senses you could draw from, he was hers – as to were their children – and hell and a woman scorned hath no fury like she had and could bear upon a person if she believed them responsible for so much as touching a hair on their heads untowardly. Someone would be made to answer for what had happened.

“You haven’t failed anyone, Keiran,” she whispered against his skin. “You were blindsided. That happens. This isn’t on you. It’s not your fault.” She squeezed him, hoping to prove her point but remembering to loosen her grasp somewhat, preventing herself from hurting him. “You’ve been pulled too many ways and it has been unfair. You did all that you could and no one can resent you for that. No one.” Not even me.

Millie continued to press kisses to him, her fingers lifting trough his hair, her nails absently scratching across his scalp soothingly, trying in vain somewhat to ease him. She sighed against his cheek and kissed him more firmly, a half-smile lifting at her lips.

“Calm down,” she murmured. “Just calm down. Everything is under control. Everyone will be fine. Nothing’s filtered through yet but Theo’s gone out so he’ll locate everyone and check that they’re fine. As for Bae, I think he’s still eating breakfast with Cael.”

That was a strange image in her head, that as they laid there the two men out of three who were responsible for her keeping her husband alive were just sat at breakfast, probably discussing Quidditch or feeding the babies with a strange sort of innate skill that seemed to impress itself on all people when handed children. The strangest part to her was that they probably were. After everything there was probably a real ease of conversation, genuine laughter and cups of coffee being made to nurse the hangovers and set the minds to rights. Like it was normal.

Millie’s grip on her husband increased at his admission and she stilled her fingers, memorising the feel of him in her arms for just the barest of moments before beginning to take the rhythm back up again. She kissed him, her lips finding his forehead, his nose and his cheek, the taste of shampoo bitter on her tongue. She resolved to be stronger. Terrified though she was she didn’t want him to be. She wanted him to know that they had him. That it was going to be fine because he was safe. What mattered was he was safe. They’d all work out the rest. But she couldn’t find the words, she just held on tighter, as though at any moment he could slip through her grasp.

When Keiran relaxed against her, Millie in turn took more to the back of the bath, tipping her head against it as his found her shoulder. She closed her eyes, rest taking her captive for a few moments. She was grateful for it, too. Her sleep had been fitful. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him accidently in the night so almost she’d slept with one eye open. The near scalding water and the hot air of the room made her lull into a sort of half slumber. It was too comfortable, she knew. Too easy to fall into it. Yet she couldn’t help herself. All she’d really wanted was him like this with her again. The circumstances were dire, of course, but somehow she felt as though she was back on the playing field, rather than hanging off the end as she had done before.

“You don’t have to thank me you goof,” she smiled despite herself. “You’d do the same for me. And aside from that, ‘Melissa’?” She arched an eyebrow playfully at him, her hand coming down from his hair to tap her index finger against his nose. “You’re lucky you’re all broken, Mr Hayes. I’ll let you get away with it just his once.”

Millie’s easy humour slid from her features. She looked at him with silent wonder. It wasn’t incredulity really, though there were bits of it. It was a look that was filled with all of the love that she had neglected to give and all of the time and patience that she’d forgotten she owed to him. All of the childish temper and fostered feelings of disunity she had been so sure was between them had been chased away. The request was one she would never deny him. The request was one he should not have had to have made, as though somehow by forces beyond the way he was feeling and beyond the way his body ached somehow prohibited him from being with them. She half assumed that prohibiting force as her, as though somehow for all of her desires to get them to him she had only really in truth succeeded in alienating him from them further. But now he asked in a simple, quiet voice with a tentative smile and, almost, the shyness of a boy. She wouldn’t have denied him the world in that moment.

She could only suffice as to nod, unable to quite trust her voice. She wanted to spare Baldric, and Keiran, and herself, the indignity of having the twins brought to them. Aside from that she knew that they were beginning to prune at their extremities and for all of the good the water was doing it was time to get him warm and dry. She kissed him, her lips lingering at his temple, and then she tried to work out the logistics in her mind. The indignity of the levitating charms was going to return but she would make it as painless as possible, she hoped. Millie’s hands fell to his arms and she squeezed, indicating for him to sit himself up at his leisure. Once he did so, Millie got up out of the bath, hopping onto the rug on the floor and reaching to pull off one of the fluffy towels from the rack. After wrapping it around herself she found her wand and grabbed another towel.

“Sorry,” she winced, flicking her wand and uttering the levitation charm. It was emasculating, she understood, and would inspire a great deal of frustration in him but she hoped that he’d persevere for the moment. “Cael will sort out your leg and we won’t have to do this.” She got him into their bedroom right enough, and caught the towel around his middle before she set him down on the bed. Millie tossed her wand away thereafter, letting it land with a clatter on the bedside table, and she returned to the bathroom to retrieve another towel which she used to drape over Keiran’s head and she quickly dried his hair, pleased to find that the warmth of the flat was doing its bit to aid that and soon she was running the towel over his shoulders, his back, down his arms and gently over his chest.

“Okay,” she grabbed up the tape she’d left behind from before. “Let me just get this over the stitches, wrap a bit of bandage around your leg and then I’ll go and get them, alright?”

The tape was infinitely easier to sort out than the stitches had been. There to protect them, the tape was a reassuring sight once it was all in place. After securing the bandage around his leg and pinning it into place, Millie relished the fact that she could afford him the dignity of some clothes. She regretted that she had to use magic but it was helpful because it meant he didn’t have to strain anything by trying to wriggle into a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. It was one of those moments when she was glad that they had magic but she resented it, too, because magic and all of the trappings that came with it had gotten them into this debacle in the first place.

The lines of whose clothes were whose had long since been blurred – albeit you wouldn’t see Keiran running around in one of Millie’s dresses. Unluckily for him she did wear his without preamble or fear and so it was to his drawers that she turned for some clothes though she did find her own pair of trackie bottoms.

“Are you hungry, love?” She asked, pulling her hair up into a pony tail that bounced optimistically behind her head. “I can grab something if you want.”

Taking her wand up again Millie grinned at him, stole a kiss and then left the room, leaving the door open behind her. She moved through the living room, picking up a jumper that had fallen off of the back of the arm chair and she tossed it onto the sofa with the blankets Baldric had yet to pick up. She was half glad Keiran was confined to the bedroom if only because he didn’t have to see the slight havoc the Gryffindors had managed to reduce the living room to. The boys were exactly where she’d left them, sans Theodore who had heeded her and gone out, and she immediately held her hands out for her daughter who Cael relinquished with a smile.

“Is he ready yet?” Cael asked, watching as Millie adjusted Kelly on her hip.

“Give him a little while, Cae.” She asked of him and the elder man nodded understandingly.

Millie then took up Liam from Bae who gave her a slightly quizzical look but let it go. Then with her wand she sent a plate of toast ahead of her into the bedroom along with a pot of jam and a butter knife. She smiled at the boys and Cael waved at her with his coffee cup, a chuckle emitting itself from his chest.

“I don’t get it,” Baldric expressed with a quizzical look.

“They’re just doing things their way, Bae,” Cael told him, bringing the cup to his lips. “After a near death experience, all you want is your family don’t you? The people you love. Seeing your children, being with them, is one of the first things you want.”

The twins were wide awake, much to Millie’s delight and full of affection for anyone willing to spend time with them. It would reassure Keiran to no end, she knew. The toast flew in first, setting itself on the bedside table along with the jam and the knife and Millie succeeded it, tossing her wand away again before sitting herself onto the bed. She let Liam slide down into her lap but Kelly she offered over to Keiran with a smile, gently setting her down against his chest where mostly he’d been clear of any more serious scrapes.

“There’s your daddy,” she cooed, smoothing her hand over their daughter’s head. “You’ve been worried about him haven’t you?”

Millie lifted Liam up more fully and turned him into her arms as she moved to lay down beside Keiran. Liam came to lay on her chest also, his eyes roving around curiously as he tried to reconcile earlier images of the bedroom with the one now with his parents side by side, looking at him and his sister with as much interest as they looked at them. Her fingers drummed a soft, idle beat against their son’s back and she turned to look at the other two, a smile lighting up her features.

“You’re a picture,” she told them earnestly. “And I love you, Keiran. So much.”

"Of course I do," Keiran corrected her, butting in before she continued. "I sometimes forget, but you're the one that sends me down the correct road when I stray. I just don't thank you enough, I'm afraid."

A closed-lipped smile was offered, but a real, full one grew as she chided him. "But I've always adored your name. It's my favorite," he pointed out, the childish nature of his words and tone making him appear almost foolish. Or, at least to himself. "I don't want anyone else calling you Melissa, because then it's not special," Keiran admitted.

It took a few moments of thought to decide that she needed to know his reasoning. Needed to understand what it was about her name that meant more to him than she clearly understood thus far. So he tilted his head to the side, observing her blatantly as he explained. "See, I often find myself unable to select the right words when I'm trying to talk to you. Whether that's when you used to try and convince me to shower - and, I'm sure you know I mean the good showers - and I would say it almost as a warning. Or, even when I'm angry, it's me trying to find a way to explain and define how I feel. It sounds backwards, but then if you look at how I used it just now, I think it makes some sense. Anyone in the world could call you Millie. Or Mrs. Hayes - though I rather love that one, too. But few people know I call you Missie. I bet my mum could get away with it. But nobody is allowed to call you Melissa." He lifted one shoulder just enough to give visible sign of a shrug before relaxing it. "It's a lot more to me than just a name. Call me possessive or whatever, but I love it nearly as much as I love you."

Yep. That's right, folks. Keiran Hayes is basically a woman when it comes to feelings and romance. But that wasn't all he felt was important when it came to her. The name, that is. No, Professor Mr. Hayes was an incredibly selfish man when it came to his wife. The problem was that he wanted all of her to himself, at all times. Which, obviously, was ridiculous given their lifestyle -- not to mention his current state of being making all manner of things difficult aside from just the bit they were most likely to decide they wanted to do. Word play intended.

Now, it wasn't that Keiran didn't want her to pursue whatever she might put her mind to. Not by any means. Rather, he wanted to have a million ways to explain his affection for her and have her want to send those sentiments back in as many ways as possible. In as many words or phrases or actions. It didn't take a genius, though, to realize that Millie was doing just that by choosing to take care of him herself. Cael could just as easily have stitched the man up himself, but here Keiran was, feeling foolish and fairly exposed, yet so thoroughly loved that he barely wanted to move. Leaving the bath meant going back to the real world - one inevitably including pain, inability to sleep or stomach food, and anything else that the day saw fit to make him suffer through. But just then, all Keiran knew was Millie and her heart that was so capable of attaching her affections to even the most lost and confused of souls. He knew he loved her, and for some unintelligible reason, she loved him back. Never, no matter how long he lived, would Keiran discover what had made her latch onto him so strongly -- but never in his life did he want to learn that she had changed her mind.

She nudged him, so Keiran reluctantly sat up to relieve her of his weight. "It's fine, Mills. I'll get used to it," he returned, both trying to comfort her and convince himself at the same time. It would take a very long time for him to come to terms with his inability to walk, but he could only hope that some physical therapy would push him towards a near-perfect recovery. It was a long shot, obviously, but one he would continue to cling to the idea of like his life depended on it. And, in some senses of the phrase, it really did. So he sat back, trying to take it easy while she taped him up like the torn inside to a shoulder bag.

"Sure," he returned, trying to seem more comfortable and at ease that he was or truly could be. Keiran wasn't convinced that food would settle, but if it made Millie happy to feel helpful, he wouldn't turn away her ideas. In her absence, Keiran shuffled around so he was closer to lying flat, pillows supporting him from his shoulders and up.  

The food found its way in first, surprising him slightly, but his attention was drawn to the blonde that followed, toting two little light-haired folks. He laughed outright at Millie's murmuring to Kelly, nearly wincing at the sting that motion caused. It was admittedly less painful than before, but that was likely due to the medication rather than any sudden improvements. "They probably slept right through everything," Keiran pointed out, ignoring the fact that Millie's scream had broken through even his own haze so it had probably done the same for their kids. Kelly's hand reached out to his jaw, seemingly interested in the slice there that had been taped over. "Ah, ah," he warned gently, turning that side of his face away.

Seemingly unimpressed with his hiding the injury, Kelly's hand instead extended towards his mouth, as if informing him that he shouldn't have told her no. A lazy smile worked its way onto his face when she settled though, her wiggling stopped and his jaw relaxing upon registering the lack of anxiety over hurting. Millie's words caught his attention, and Keiran let his cheek fall against his pillow in order to gaze over at her and Liam.

"I will never get tired of hearing that," he swore, genuinely bemused but endlessly pleased. "And, love, I may have been indelibly sexy before, but you've always been the more attractive between the pair of us. So if anyone is worthy of being termed a picture, it is most definitely you and Liam. Not that Miss Kelly Mae over here isn't perfect. Rather, I'm probably going to have all these funny little scars forever." A smirk grew as he gazed down at his children, and Keiran added in a more light-hearted tone, "I doubt they'll remember this. What should I tell them when they ask after the scars, hmm? Battle wounds might be appropriate for them. Or maybe I fought off a dinosaur, since they're likely to consider me impossibly old -- especially next to you, darling."

It was true, of course, that Keiran worried about the factor if his age. If he and Millie worked themselves out enough to consider another round of children, how old would he be, then? Nearly in his thirties. By the time his youngest went to school he would be over the hill. It nearly made him grimace. Nearly, obviously being the key word, considering he instead let his whole body relax, the benefit of their bath finally setting in as he grew tired.

"If Cael wants to get any physical therapy started, he had better come in here before I settle down with the twins for their nap. Because that sounds great."


OOC: #PhonePostOfTiredness

There was a part of Keiran Hayes’ wife that didn’t quite want to part with the idea that her full forename could be spoken in a manner that was warm and affectionate towards her. The name ‘Melissa’ was not one she ever associated with people who held love for her. Yet, Keiran’s perseverance to make it so was kind and it was something she wanted but every time his mouth moved over the sound to form the word, the name, she couldn’t help but seize up and flinch because no matter how his tone lingered on the syllables it still sounded akin to a reproach and she hated it, she hated to hear it in him. She wanted to swallow up the word and give him another in its place.

“I just hate it,” she persisted wearily. “I feel like I’m in trouble every time it’s said and it reminds me of my mum and you know how much I loathe her so I just…” she nibbled on her inner cheek as she tried to find the words. “It sounds backwards me trying to explain, too, but I just can’t get on with it. But it’s not my name, for a start. They named me after my great-nan. Then every time it was used it was in disdain.” She closed her eyes briefly. “Millie was when I was being good or things were benign and normal. Melissa,” she flinched a little even as it left her mouth, “is and has always been for bad times. For when I was terrible or for when she felt particularly malevolent towards me. I don’t know how you’re going to change that association.”

Their children would be inquisitive. She was naïve to think that Kelly would just lay and enjoy being with her father. No, like her mother she wanted to inspect him and somehow right the wrongs in his visage that she saw, beginning with the tape on his jaw. Millie found she was inclined to agree with their daughter. She didn’t like it either. She smiled at him, her hand continuing to run absently over their son’s back as he spoke. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline at his comment, though and she narrowed her eyes, glaring at him briefly before looking down at their son for his opinion.

Millie lifted her hands underneath Liam’s arms and raised him up into the air, evoking smiles from the boy as he reached out with precise hands to latch onto his mother’s bracelet. He kicked out his legs and Millie laughed, swinging him from side to side before bringing him back to her, cuddling him tight to his chest and raining down over him a shower of kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his chin and everywhere else she could reach. She adored her children, there was nothing that could dispute that. For all of her assertions that she could not live without Keiran, she couldn’t do without them, either.

“Your daddy is ridiculous isn’t he?” She asked Liam as though he could return that, indeed, he was. “Not least for thinking I’d indulge his ego by assuring him he will always be indelibly sexy to me but also to even think that he would be anything but indelibly sexy. He’s silly isn’t he?” The boy gave a concurring cry and Millie turned him back over onto her chest, averting her eyes to Keiran pointedly.

“You won’t be old and you are not going to look odd, either,” she insisted, determined to assuage his fears. “You are going to heal and you are going to be okay. Don’t fret over anything, alright? I’ve got you,” she reached down between them to take his hand. “I’ve got you,” she repeated again. “You’re always going to be indelibly sexy in my eyes and especially so when you turn all silver fox on me. And these two are going to love you no matter what. Plus, they’ll love to hear about their daddy fighting the bad guys because that’s what you’ve been doing. You’ve been trying to make their world better for them and I…” Millie took a breath. “Didn’t appreciate that until everything was almost ruined. I’m sorry.”

Thankfully Cael took this moment to interject with his wand and his enthusiasm. Millie sat up, turning Liam in her arms. Cael leaned over and tapped the boy playfully on the nose.

“You alright little man?” He inquired with a smile. “Ah, yeah, you’re enjoying your cuddles aren’t you? Lucky. Right, big man,” Cael prodded Keiran somewhere benign with his wand. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?”

After running a few diagnostic charms, Cael determined that everything was right and well in Keiran’s torso. He’d be stiff for a while in his shoulders, Cael pronounced regretfully, but other than that he would heal normally. Then the leg became an interesting issue to which he took a long couple of minutes examining the results from the diagnostic spell.

“Nerves,” he scowled. “Bloody hell.”

“Cael,” Millie scolded, putting her hands over Liam’s ears. The little boy lifted his fists to her hands in return and she wound her arms back around him, kissing his hair.

“Sorry, sorry. Right, good news is the salve is healing you up good and proper so what I want you to do is keep doing that, Nurse Hayes,” Cael smirked at Millie. “Bad news is the nerves are shot. To bits, basically. There was nothing really I could have done yesterday, either. What the salve is doing is stubbing the ends almost so the pain should go away soon. What I could possibly try and do once all of the healing is done is go back in and try and set it to rights but I don’t know. Once the magic is out of your system maybe I could try and do it with magic but either way you’re going to have to start building up a cane collection, mate.”

“Try again,” Millie spoke tersely. “Do something else.”

Cael looked affronted. “What can I do when the spell’s cut him up like a bit of paper? If I could fix him right here, right now. I would. Keiran, I would. This is so time intensive though. We’ve just got to wait. The chest wounds will heal, the shoulders will stop being so stiff with time and the leg needs the same. Salve looks to be the best move forward because the magic in the wound doesn’t appear to be noticing it. If I can get you to neutralise the area, as it were, and repair it to an extent we can go back in later, hopefully, and sort you out for good.”

“So what?” Millie asked shrilly. “What does this mean?”

“It means we’re back to relearning how to do things like walking, running, etcetera.” Cael watched as Millie blanched, lifting a hand to her face. “It’ll be okay in the end. But we’ve got to work with what we’ve got at the moment and that’s not a lot. We need to build up muscle strength and all the rest. You need to be able to deal with this handicap before we can fix it. Hopefully, it’ll fix itself, too. I’ll go and make some tea.”

Millie flopped back down onto her back when Cael left and she turned her head to look at her husband. She wiggled closer, winding her arm around his and the two babies sort of met in the middle. She found his hand, lacing their fingers together and she leaned over, kissing him gently.

“Waiting game,” she mumbled against his mouth. “I’m a very impatient person you know,” she smiled as she pulled away. “You’re going to be fine. I know it. Cael’s full of rubbish, the morbid git.”

"I can think of one way to change that, though I'm not exactly right and able enough for it just yet. Rest assured, if you allow it once this passes, I will do my utmost best," Keiran teased. He tilted his head side to side one, slowly, considering what he had said. "Though, really, if you hate it that much I can't say it would help me in that particular endeavor, now would it?"

Were Kelly not resting atop him, Keiran would have lifted a shoulder in a sort of defeat. Instead he added, "Don't think on it, Missie. I don't have to use it. It was just me wanting to. And a want doesn't outweigh any aversions you may have." He was accepting, albeit disappointed, to find that she wouldn't accept the name regardless of his usage of it, but Keiran did his best to hide the latter. If it offended her so much, he saw no reason to force it on her.

He nearly opened his mouth to make a comment about her seeming affinity for older, silver-haired men, but her apology caught him off guard and Keiran failed to respond before Cael entered, seemingly catching wind of the wounded man's joke regarding his desire to sleep. Keiran did what he could to shift so that Kelly rested on the sheets further up the bed from his and Millie's clasped hands, even as he refused to retract his hold on her. She had given it, and now he was finding that he really did need it to keep from fidgeting and wincing as Cael checked him over. Keiran couldn't remember who the other man was related to, though something told him he should know. Still, he watched and attempted to figure it out for himself.

He couldn't, though, when Millie started snapping at Cael. Keiran knew he had been specifically addressed a few times, but his gaze lifted to the ceiling and just stared blankly. Blank had always been a word Keiran had avoided using. Avery, when blank, was practically unable to comprehend the things going on outside of her. No one knew how to deal with her in those moments, and no one really wanted to try. It just made her more withdrawn. Keiran hadn't felt that level of 'blank' before. But Cael left and Millie wrapped around him, drawing him from the haze.

He wanted to smile back, to give her a squeeze. But instead he gave her an apologetic look, brows tugging together. "Missie... Love, you know he's right." He frowned briefly, glancing down at the twins where the had come to rest, Liam poking at Kelly's arm now and then. His chest ached just as much for them as it did for himself, wondering what it would be like to grow up with a father who - even though he wanted to - couldn't play with them. Aiden had never really been against playing with Keiran in his younger years, but as time went on the boy had grown to understand that, even if his father wanted to, Aiden was just too busy. But the idea that Keiran really wanted to, but just couldn't, seemed like a far worse pain.

"Sorry, kiddos." He mumbled, releasing Millie's hand so he could offer his to the twins. Curious about the new thing they could take hold of, little fingers reached out and grabbed at Keiran's. "It's gonna be a while before I can teach you Quidditch, eh? You'll have to ask your mum."

One corner of his mouth lifted, and he tilted his head to look at Millie again. "Time is something I'm lucky to be in possession of. If that means dealing with this for quite some time, at least it's still me having some."