A/N This is only my second story for Seamus and Dean, but my first slash fic ever. I normally avoid stories with relationships as I feel that I write them badly. This could be seen as a sequel to my other Dean and Seamus fic, Days feel like Years, but you don't need to have read that first. Again, I'm afraid I couldn't write Seamus' accent so its bog standard again. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
In a quiet office stacked with files, the lone figure at the desk sighed and then rested his head on his arms on the desk. It had been a long and tiring day of treating patient after patient and soothing worried friends and family. He had only five minutes left until he could go home. And start this madness all over again tomorrow, he noted tiredly.
Lost in his thoughts, Seamus jumped when the clock in his office chimed six o'clock. He had been called in early that day after an accident caused an influx of patients, he had been run ragged all day he couldn't even remember what the accident had been. Exhaustedly he got to his feet and collected his bag, deciding to not take any paperwork home that night, he knew he wouldn't be able to face it. He dragged his feet over to the fireplace and stepping into the grate, he used the last of his energy to clearly call out his address. As grates passed before him in a blink, he staggered out of the fireplace in his and his boyfriend's flat.
There were the sounds of clanking saucepans coming from the kitchen, and Seamus attempted to make his way to the kitchen, but instead his left foot hit the coffee table causing him to stumble. Luckily he landed on the sofa. The clanking in the kitchen stopped, and then a voice called out, "Shay is that you?"
Seamus, with his eyes closed, groaned in answer, too tired even to speak. He heard the sounds of hasty footsteps approaching, and then soft, gentle hands were rubbing the soot off his face. He flickered his eyes open to find himself looking down into calm, soft brown eyes.
"Thought you hated to Floo home because of the soot," stated Dean with one eyebrow raised. He continued to rub the soot on Seamus' face, taking in the dishevelled appearance in front of him, from his crouch on the floor.
"Too tired to apperate, was rushed off my feet today. Might have ended up anywhere in the country. Thought it safer to Floo." Murmured Seamus, his eyes flickering closed by the soothing touch of Dean's hands on his face.
Dean smiled, and then pulled himself up onto the sofa next to Seamus, he gently shook his partner. "Hey, you can't fall asleep yet. Dinner's almost ready."
Seamus opened one eye. "As much as I adore your cooking, don't think I'm able to do anything but sleep."
Frowning Dean pulled Seamus against his chest and softly asked, "What time did you get called in? It had to be early, I don't even recall you leaving."
"Erm…about four I think," responded Seamus with a yawn.
"Geez. That's a twelve hour day!" exclaimed Dean, knowing now, why his boyfriend was so tired. He was just glad tomorrow was Friday and then Seamus had that weekend off. Seamus just hummed in agreement, his eyes now fully closed again. Dean smiled fondly, while it had taken some getting used to Seamus' different shifts, day or night, and weekends possibly being in the middle of the week. Dean was thankful that by choosing a career in art, he was mostly home and could spend Seamus' time off with his boyfriend. To begin with they had just been best mates hanging out, but a year ago that changed, for the better in Dean's opinion. He looked back down at Seamus, who had been at St. Mungo's for two years now; it was strange to think that just three years ago he went through ten months in hiding not knowing if he'd ever see the Irishman again.
Dean gently pushed Seamus to the side and stood up, Seamus groaned in protest. "You're comfy," his eyes still closed, he burrowed into the pillows.
"I'll just get dinner, and then you can sleep. You're not going to bed on an empty stomach." Commented Dean, he ran his fingers through Seamus' sandy hair and then he wandered back into the kitchen. Not five minutes later he returned to find Seamus softly snoring. He placed the dinner plates on the coffee table and crouched in front of Seamus. He hated to wake the Irishman, but going off what his boyfriend's day had been like, he doubted Seamus had had much chance to eat. Usually they ate at the kitchen table, but Dean figured he wouldn't get Seamus there awake.
He reached up and stroked Seamus' cheek. "Come on Shay, wakey, wakey."
Seamus groaned and tried to twist away from the hand waking him up. Choosing a different tactic, Dean took hold of Seamus' dinner and wafted the plate of sweet smelling Shepard's Pie under Seamus' nose. A pair of bleary, blue eyes looked up at him.
"Sorry for waking you, but you need to eat," said Dean handing Seamus his dinner and cutlery.
Seamus took the offered items, and sitting up straighter began to dig in. "Oh Merlin," he moaned, "I didn't know how starving I was!"
Dean shook his head, "Didn't think you got much chance to eat today."
"Got that right," nodded Seamus. "Was rushed off my feet all day, so I couldn't do much paperwork. Hopefully tomorrow I can catch up on my paperwork, otherwise I'm gonna have to do it over the weekend."
They continued eating dinner in silence. Dean, looking at the still soot-covered face of his partner, was reminded of the boy he first met ten years ago on the Hogwarts Express. A boy, who right through school, caused explosions left, right and centre, and would often look back at Dean with a sheepish grin on his soot-covered face. But the man sat beside him was, while still loud, talkative, mischievous and a great friend, he was more serious now. The Seamus from school would never try to complete paperwork until the last moment. Dean figured it was being at Hogwarts for his seventh year with the Carrows, which had made Seamus more serious.
Every day he would see flashes of the boy from before that terror-filled year, but recently those flashes had come less and less. Seamus was working so hard Dean worried that he'd collapse from exhaustion. He knew Seamus' sleep over the past two months had been disturbed by nightmares, but Seamus always hid them from him, and he didn't know how to bring them up to Seamus. Back in eighth year, was the one and only time Seamus told him about one of his nightmares, and it seemed to help, until now.
He worried that his boyfriend was slowly slipping away from him and he didn't know what to do, apart from the Battle of Hogwarts, Dean had no idea what Seamus had seen during those months. From the corner of his eye he watched as Seamus rubbed his left knee.
Dean flinched, during the Battle after Voldemort had made his way to the castle, a Death Eater had cast a spell badly injuring Seamus' knee, to top it off, a wall exploded and broke Seamus' ankle on his left leg. It had been painful for Dean to watch as Madam Pomfrey had healed Seamus' injuries. It had been hard for Seamus, trying to walk with his left leg injured in two places. Sometimes, mainly in bad weather, the pain returned so sharply Seamus would limp for days until Dean forced him to rest in bed.
Soon dinner was finished and Dean quickly caught the plate that was slipping from Seamus' slack grip. Seamus smiled and then made his way to the bathroom, ten minutes later after clearing up Dean made his way to the bathroom, where he found Seamus tiredly stood in front of the sink filled with water, trying to wash away the soot from his face and hair. Dean leaned against the doorframe to watch, when, in his exhaustion, Seamus leaned forward too much and ended up drenching his hair. Dean, taking pity on his boyfriend, sat Seamus down on the edge of the bath and towel dried his hair and then grabbed a flannel and cleaned away the soot from his face.
Together they then made their way to their bedroom, Seamus shuffling his feet and with his eyes half closed. After fighting with his pyjamas and the covers Seamus was comfortable and asleep before Dean joined him. Smiling fondly at his sleeping boyfriend, Dean turned off the lamp and wrapped his arms around Seamus. The steady breaths of his partner soon lulled Dean to sleep.
The next morning, Dean awoke to the sounds of Seamus moving about the flat. He looked at his watch and was relieved to see that Seamus was getting ready for work at the usual time. He got out of bed and wandered into the kitchen and was dismayed to notice that Seamus still looked tired.
"Morning," greeted Seamus, from his usual seat at the table, and between sips of his coffee.
"Morning," responded Dean, he leaned over and kissed his boyfriend, before sitting across from him. Looking into Seamus' almost blank eyes, Dean figured at some point Seamus had had another nightmare that night. He was saddened that Seamus felt he had to hide his nightmares. "Are you okay? You look tired."
Seamus smiled, but it was nowhere near his usual bright smile, "Just can't have caught up with sleep. I'll be better after the weekend."
Dean sighed, "Seamus-"
"I'm fine," Seamus sharply interjected, his grip tightening around his mug and staring down at the table.
"Look, it's not weak to admit you're having nightmares," continued Dean.
"I'm fine," stressed Seamus sharply looking up at Dean, looking into the Irishman's eyes, Dean could see that Seamus wasn't only desperate to convince Dean of this, he was also trying to convince himself. Dean had to hold himself back from arguing against this, but he didn't want Seamus to go to work after an argument so he let it go. For now.
They chatted about little things for the next few minutes, about how Dean was going to the muggle art gallery he sometimes did pieces of art for, and how Seamus was going to see Agnes Harper on one of the wards. Agnes was a witch in her mid seventies and quite often came to St. Mungos for various treatments, after seeing her so often Seamus had grown quite fond of the old witch who reminded him of his own Finnigan grandmother.
At five to eight, Seamus got up and put his mug into sink, he picked up his shoulder bag and slung it across his shoulders. He kissed Dean and then turned on the spot and disappeared with a crack. Dean sighed and buried his face in his hands, he didn't know what to do, he knew Seamus had to talk about his nightmares, but the Irishman was so stubborn and refused to talk.
The day passed slowly for Dean who was worried about his boyfriend, and hoped that Seamus had a quiet day. Not wanting Seamus to have to do his paperwork over the weekend and not catch up on his sleep. He soon had a shock when he was told himself and another three artists were being given the opportunity to fly out to Asia to study art out there, for a month. Ordinarily, this would have excited Dean to no end, but right now with Seamus working himself to the bone, he didn't know if he should go. So he decided to ask Seamus that evening, but if he admitted it to himself, he knew Seamus would encourage him to go.
Seamus, for once in the past month, was having quite an easy day. Around noon he made his way to the ward where Agnes was placed and spotting the witch sat up in her bed, he walked over and sat in the chair beside her bed.
"Ah! If it isn't my favourite healer!" grinned Agnes.
Seamus shook his head and chuckled, "Time for my favourite patient!"
Agnes tsked, "I'm sure a handsome lad like yourself says that to all your patients."
"Are you sure you don't call all your healers your favourite?" asked Seamus, with one eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.
"Now don't get cheeky!" admonished Agnes with a teasing glare.
Seamus looked at the old woman with her shoulder length grey hair, and noticed that she was paler than normal. "How are you feeling today Agnes?"
"Oh right as rain dear," replied Agnes with a smile.
"Now," commented Seamus seriously, "Would you tell me that even if you weren't 'feeling right as rain'?"
"Of course!" exclaimed Agnes with a twinkle in her eyes, "I could never lie to you lad!"
"Uh huh," grinned Seamus. He always looked forward to his visits with Agnes, with her sharp tongue and wit he was never in for a dull visit. Even if he wasn't scheduled to see Agnes, whenever she was in hospital he always made sure to come to see her, the poor woman had lost her husband and son during the first wizarding war, and so had no other regular visitors. "You're looking a little pale Agnes, are you sleeping alright?"
"Yes I am, I had the most pleasant dream last night," she smiled. Seamus nodded, and then she turned her sharp eyes on Seamus and took in his own pale face and tired eyes. "Are you sure you're sleeping alright lad? You're looking as if you need a lie down in the bed next to mine."
Seamus mock gasped, "I hope that wasn't an offer Agnes, I don't know what my boyfriend would say!"
Agnes glared and reached over to smack his arm, " Oi! You cheeky blighter!"
Laughing Seamus rubbed his arm, seeing Agnes' look Seamus calmed down and said, "I'm fine."
"Right," stressed Agnes. "I know something is bothering you lad, why don't talk about it to your Dean. I'm sure he'd help you sort out whatever it is."
Seamus sighed and looked down at his hands, "I just don't want to worry him."
Agnes reached over and patted his hand. "I know I only met Dean once, but I'm pretty sure he'll already be worried because you haven't told him anything."
He sighed again and nodded, he had to admit he had almost told Dean that morning what his nightmares had been filled with. If Dean had kept on pressing Seamus probably would have spilled everything, but thankfully Dean had dropped the subject. He knew he had to talk about it, but seeing the worried and terrified look on Dean's face back in eighth year after he told him about his nightmare of a particularly brutal detention, Seamus had vowed never to tell Dean anything from that year again.
"I'll speak to him," murmured Seamus.
Agnes nodded, "Good." She then stared at him, "You better not lie to me lad."
"I could never lie to you Agnes!" protested Seamus.
"Too right," smiled Agnes.
Seamus then spent another half an hour chatting to Agnes before he went to grab a quick lunch. Telling himself that that evening he would tell Dean everything that had been haunting him for the past two months.
Seamus arrived home after Dean, before apparating home he sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to talk to Dean just as he had promised Agnes. However, Seamus' plan didn't quite go how he expected. As he apparated into the sitting room, he was faced with Dean sat on the sofa facing him with a worried on his face.
"Dean? What's wrong?" asked Seamus, silently panicking about what possibly could have happened. He found himself unable to move and so he remained standing looking down into Dean's eyes.
Sighing, Dean began to say; "I've been given the opportunity, with three other artists, to fly out to Asia to study art there."
"Why are you looking so worried then?" asked Seamus with a frown, "That sounds amazing."
Dean looked up at him with an unreadable expression, "I'll be gone for a month, and we'll be going on Tuesday."
Seamus stood frozen in shock, with one thought. I can't possibly tell him now; it'll only make him worry while he's gone. I can't do that too him. Come on Seamus you've lasted two months without saying anything, you can go another month. Hey, maybe everything will be better by the time he comes back, and you won't ever have to tell him about that year. Oh who am I kidding? Without Dean here, the one person who keeps me grounded after nightmares, I'll go mad.
Dean looked up at Seamus' stunned expression, seeing the dark circles under his eyes and the dimness of his eyes. Dean made his mind up, he wouldn't go. How could he? When Seamus was so obviously struggling with his nightmares.
"It's okay Seamus, I won't go," he commented with a small smile and a shrug. Yes he would have loved to go, but Seamus had to come first, just like when he refused to take Seamus on the run with him.
"No! Don't you bloody do that!" exclaimed Seamus, some of the old fire blazing in his eyes. "No, you're going, I know for a fact that is something you'd love to do. So you're bloody going to Asia on Tuesday!"
Dean gaped up at his boyfriend, "But Shay-"
"Oh don't you 'Shay' me!" interrupted Seamus in frustration. "That's something you'd love to do, so why, for Merlin's sake, are you saying you won't go?!"
Now Dean hesitated, he knew he was treading on thin ice. If he so much as hinted that he didn't want to go because he was worried about Seamus and his nightmares, then his boyfriend would go on the defensive and could possibly ignite an argument between them, that could very well last until at least Monday.
"I just…I just thought that with you being run ragged at work, that I'd stay to make sure you were eating." Dean commented. That's safe, that's not mentioning his lack of sleep, that's a safe answer, he can't get angry with that.
"What?!"
Or maybe not.
"Are you kidding me!" Snapped Seamus. "I'm twenty-one for Merlin's sake! I can bloody well look after myself for a month! Even if I am being 'run ragged'. "
"I'm just worried about you!" countered Dean, rising to his feet and meeting the angry gaze of his boyfriend. Looking closely he could swear that to some extent Seamus was arguing for him to go so he wouldn't have to talk about his nightmares.
"I'm fine," Seamus forced out through gritted teeth.
"Oh there it is again! No, you're not bloody fine!" exploded Dean. So much for avoiding an argument.
"What would you know?" growled Seamus, his hands clenched into fists.
"I know you're loosing sleep because of nightmares!" Dean snapped, "Which would get better if you just stopped being so bloody stubborn and talked about them!"
"To who?" shouted Seamus; "No one cares about that year anymore! Everyone has moved on from the war! They won't want to hear me talk about what happened!"
Dean froze momentarily in hurt. He had meant for Seamus to tell him, but Seamus didn't even seem to consider talking to Dean. His best mate and boyfriend.
Seamus saw Dean's hurt look, and hated that he put it there, but the look on Dean's face back in eighth year had been worse. He wouldn't upset Dean like that again, so this had to be done, as painful as this argument was. Dean could never find out what Seamus had had to go through in seventh year.
"What about me?" asked Dean softly, "Why can't you talk about it to me? Like you did in eighth year."
"Because that was about the Battle, which you saw and lived through." Responded Seamus curtly, trying to keep some form of frustration in his voice, otherwise Dean would know he was purposely doing this. "These nightmares I'm having are about the school year. You weren't there, you wouldn't understand what we had to live through everyday."
Dean gasped; he stood wide-eyed staring at Seamus. Then anger began to build, "Being in hiding was easy you know," he snapped.
"I get that," shrugged Seamus, "It's why I never asked you about it, because I wouldn't be able to understand. Which is why I left you to talk through it with Luna and Mr Ollivander, they would understand it whereas I couldn't."
There was some truth to that, but what Seamus had left out was, he was so afraid of asking Dean the wrong question or saying the wrong thing, and seeing how talking to Luna and Mr Ollivander helped. He left the topic alone, as he knew how frustrating it was to have someone constantly ask you the wrong thing, just as his poor mother found out when he finally snapped at her over the summer between seventh and eighth year.
"So that's it," commented Dean with a shake of his head and a lump in his throat. "You'll never talk to me about it?"
"Nope," responded Seamus, struggling to keep his voice even.
Dean shook his head and then stormed into their room, slamming the door. Leaving Seamus to slump down on the sofa with his head in his hands. He hated what he'd done, but he knew Dean would only feel guilty to some extent. Dean had told him to go back to Hogwarts that year, and look how that turned out. He knew this is what Dean would think because Dean had said as much when they reunited before the Battle.
They spent the rest of the weekend avoiding each other, Dean hiding in the spare room, which acted as his studio and Seamus sleeping on the sofa. Dean out of hurt and Seamus knowing that right now he'd only make things worse.
When Tuesday morning rolled around Seamus was almost relieved when he got called in early. He peaked into their bedroom and watched for a minute as Dean slept. Quietly he crept into the room and placed a note for Dean on the bedside table. Then in the sitting room he disappeared with a crack.
Three hours later when Dean woke, he found the note. It simply read:
I know I should have done this face to face, but I've been called in early.
I'm so sorry Dean.
For everything.
Love Seamus.
Dean's eyes stung with tears, he didn't have much time, as he was going to Asia with muggles, it meant he had to go to the airport. So he resolved to write a letter to Seamus at the airport once he'd checked in and would send it to Seamus.
A part of him knew that Seamus had caused the argument to convince him to go and not spend the month worrying, but another part of Dean was worried. He worried that Seamus actually thought he wouldn't understand and ask the wrong question or say the wrong thing, Seamus had told him how he'd snapped at his mother and Dean had vowed to not say anything until Seamus came to him first.
What neither of them fully understood, was that each of them was only trying to help the other, and protect them from hurt.
TBC...