Worry II
He sat at the end of the bed on a flimsy chair he wasn't sure could hold the combined weight of himself and his armour; he set his helmet down on the floor beside him.
Across from him his Mother sat talking quietly with her husband; John was sitting beside her and leaning forward. Rex gave them their privacy knowing that his mum was trying to stop his father's fussing, despite the reassurances his father had given him on his mother's condition, he was just as worried himself.
Rex glanced up focusing on his mother, he could see the bandages wrapped tight around her small waist, could see the stitches on her forehead and could see her split lip was still a little swollen.
Averting his eyes to concentrate on his armoured feet he sighed, if only he had been paying attention. Once there was a second of silence he broke it with his own voice the baritone he'd gained from his father sounding louder than he had intended.
"I'm so sorry Mum..."