It was with no small amount of loathing that Severus found himself being wheeled back into the very facility he'd worked so hard to escape from. He didn't want to be there, and certainly the staff would be annoyed at all the trouble which had come from his disappearance. There was nothing positive about the situation in his eyes. He stared sulkily at the floor and refused to speak when Minerva tried to spark up any sort of distracting conversation in attempts to bear his mind towards better thoughts. No matter how much she thought she was helping, he'd never been more inclined to shove an elderly lady down the nearest staircase.

"You are acting like a toddler, Severus." the Headmistress groaned. "People who've made mistakes can still do great things. You ought to know that well enough. You don't have to forgive them, but you do have to work with them. It would be easier if you weren't being so off-putting. Do make an effort."

While she didn't particularly mean to sound quite so harsh, Minerva was wearing thin on patience after three hours without a single word from the man. Her Gryffindor impatience was starting to peek through as much as she tried to keep it at bay. She felt sympathy for his situation, of course, but the benefits of returning to finish treatment outweighed the drawbacks. After all, they'd been kind to him at this particular clinic for the most part.

"Mr. Snape!"

Severus looked up wearily just in time to see Lotus running at him, full tilt, teetering like a baby giraffe on its feet for the first time. She braced against the wall here and there, but was far too delighted to be discouraged when she knocked into things. The girl tripped and wobbled, finally falling against him, nearly knocking the wheelchair grips out of Professor McGonagall's hands. The child giggled quietly and gave the surprised man a quick hug before standing up properly. At the moment, he was too shocked to be annoyed; both by the embrace and by the fact that Lotus could run.

"Did you see? I started walking last week, and now I can run some!" the girl squealed happily. "I can go home with my daddy at the end of the month!"

Even if he was irritated to high heaven at being stuck where he was, he forced an approving nod so as not to cause a further scene. Thankfully, the girl seemed to have other things to do and offered a small wave before cantering off in another direction. Lotus having the chance to leave soon was a good thing. No nettlesome children to follow him around, or to clutter his room with pictures, or to practice writing with, or to keep him company when he was lonely, or to… No. He shook his head as if to rid himself of the idea that he might miss her… even a tiny bit. How stupid. He would never.

"I'll find someone to check you in. Won't be a moment." Minerva quipped, parking the wheelchair next to the common area window. "Try not to get into any fights."

Exactly how Severus would manage to do such a thing was beyond him. He rolled his eyes and stared out the window with a deadpan expression, as a bird who'd accepted that he'd never fly in the open air again. He didn't even notice the other two patients staring at him. He'd barely had a word with them, as they were often busied by visitors or their friendly gambling. The gentleman pushed his wheelchair to sit alongside him, and the young woman hobbled close with her cane.

"That was nice, sending that note on Lotus' behalf when she was burned." the young woman, Sarah, commented. "Don't try to deny it, either. Nobody else was here."

"A lot of good it did. I heard that Sir Padmoore has shut himself away to avoid questioning." Severus grunted in annoyance.

"Not quite." Sarah chuckled. "I didn't have a chance to see, but Cecil did. He isn't available because he is still recovering."

"Recovering?" Severus prompted.

"Mm. I caught sight of quite the row between Madam McNair and Sir Padmoore the morning after you left. As soon as she came in from her night off, the other therapists let her know what happened. Then there was a sort of gibberish in a language I couldn't quite understand, and next thing you know, Sir Padmoore was… well, he didn't scream. Too used to pain, I think. But there was some sort of noise and then both his arms were dislocated at the shoulder. It was rather funny. He said that he could see that she was upset and he would attempt to talk things out when she was in a better mood. Then he just… noodle-arm strolled out of here. I nearly coughed up a lung laughing!" the elder man grinned. "Madam McNair was quite embarrassed to have been caught in an unprofessional moment, but I think everyone in here was happy to see it."

Well, now Severus wished he'd stayed at least long enough to have seen the spectacle, but all in all it was difficult to overlook how irritated he was with the female healer. He didn't particularly want to see her, and sorely hoped that she would not be the one to check him in. Wish granted for the moment, Minerva returned shortly thereafter with Mel trailing behind with a clip board. The other two patients took this as a sign to make themselves scarce and bid everyone goodnight. Minerva followed them with her eyes, intending to mark which rooms they retired to down the corridor as an excuse not to look at her friend.

With a resigned sigh, Severus responded to a small questionnaire and consented to a brief physical to speed things along. All he wanted to do was lie back and retreat into the dark abyss of a dreamless sleep. He didn't want to face anyone or answer for his actions in the slightest. His reasoning for leaving the way he had was nobody's business but his own. As the time for lights out was swiftly approaching, he was thankful that the Headmistress would be taking her leave.

"I will owl you every day to check on your condition. If I don't hear back from you, I will either come down here directly, or send someone on my behalf. For days you cannot write, have someone pen it for you with the code words we've agreed on so I know that it has been dictated by you personally. Do we have an understanding?" Minerva asked pointedly.

Severus gave the barest of nods. It seemed that he was still intent not to speak directly to her. The woman gave an exasperated sigh, patted his shoulder, and strode out to disapparate away. Mel quietly wheeled the man to his room and assisted in putting him to bed.

"You've got some catching up to do, but I think you'll be alright. Can I get you anything, or are you all set for now?" the therapist asked kindly.

"I'm fine." Severus sighed.

"You don't look fine. But I'll take your word for it." Mel frowned.

"I would only request that your boss be kept away from me, at least for the evening…" he amended.

"Really don't much think you have to worry about that. Goodnight, mate."

The lights snuffed themselves out to leave Severus in the dark, familiar room. He could still make out the silhouettes of various objects in his living space from faint light leaking in under the door, so he mentally check-marked everything that could be seen as a means of lulling himself to sleep. Assurances of routine in his environment aided in setting his mind at ease. Other people might count sheep. He counted breaths, heartbeats, items around him, footsteps in the hallways, and anything else that could possibly be measured if one paid attention. As luck would have it, he didn't see Madam McNair at all that night, and was thus granted a peaceful rest.

Strangely enough, he also did not see her for for the next five days following, either. From time to time, he could hear her voice in the common area, but never did he catch sight of the woman. At first, it was a relief. Then he began to suspect that his case was becoming less important if she was no longer going to oversee his progress. The other three therapists were working tirelessly to get him back up to speed, which was exhausting to say the least. He went through water exercises, electric therapy, and stimulus treatments daily instead of breaking things up the way they'd been in the past. It left him surly, moreso than usual, but for the time being he chose to keep his comments to himself in order to ensure he'd make it back on schedule to begin leg work soon. By the fifth evening, he could maintain nearly all of the movement he'd previously been capable of, so his small coma had not been too bad of a setback, thankfully.

Each day, as expected, Minerva messaged him. He would respond with a mere, 'Yes' or, 'Alright' and send the owl back on its way, much to the Headmistress's annoyance. She had expected him to cool off a bit more by now. In truth, he had. It was hard not to lose a bit of steam considering the floods of endorphins coursing through his system as an effect of his treatment. To remain angry was difficult, even for those who held a talent for it. Even so, his dour expressions were nearly impossible to completely displace, even if he did feel less horrid.

"I won't be here for the next couple of days. It's a vacation period for the therapists." Amelia announced at the end of the day.

Severus cocked an eyebrow and tilted back to look at her questioningly from the bed. He'd just finished arranging the covers over himself, smoothing where they'd been rumpled from light thrashing during his evening stimulus. He cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap to regain the illusion of dignity as he made a rather obvious inquiry.

"And what am I to do whilst the lot of you are out? Is this a break in treatment as well?" he asked mildly.

"No, no. You'll still be on your schedule. In fact, I think you're starting legs tomorrow. That should go well, I think, since we always work legs at least a little in the pool. That's exciting, hm?" she smiled, patting his knee. "Madam McNair will be covering everything herself. Before you get all fussed over it, Mr. Snape, just take a breath. It's going to be alright. If you have concerns, voice them. If your temper gets the better of you, ask for a moment to sort your thoughts. I know you're still a bit knotted over how things have fallen out, but you need to move on from it if you want to progress."

Before he could vocalize an argument, she'd shut him down. It wouldn't be fair to protest. As far as he could tell, the three therapists worked every single day with few exceptions. Their weariness was evident. To be made to endure several days on his own with Madam McNair, though… Oh, he was not looking forward to it. With Amelia, Donovan, and Mel, he felt that he still maintained a sense of authority. If he asked them not to do something, or to leave him on his own, they usually did. Madam McNair did not suffer his complaining. She could quiet him with a look, which was highly irritating, and he didn't quite understand it. Perhaps it had something to do with the nature of Fae people. Regardless, he was going to have to face her. There were so many questions he ached to ask, but knew better than to try. Probing her for Lily's locked up memories was a temptation that called to him like a siren song, but he knew how dangerous it could be to open that particular can of worms. How she must judge him. How she must loathe him. As much as he wanted to loathe her in return, it was difficult when he knew that someone he cared so deeply for was drifting around in the labyrinth of her mind.