The Undertaker stared through the bars into his wife's cell, where Stephanie was lying unconscious in the heap of blankets on the floor. He looked at her, she had refused to eat for 9 days, and barely drank anything. He opened the cell door, and walked across the cell, kneeling beside her, placing a hand on her forehead. He could tell that she was dehydrated, and hungry. He couldn't believe how thin she had gotten; she was just skin and bones. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and shook her gently.
She let out a soft whimper of pain, as she had been handled roughly by the Ministry, while being escorted to and from the dining hall, thrown into her cell and beaten hard if she struggled. She drew back in shock and fear to see her husband beside her, and tried to hide. He stroked her cheek, and held his hand out to her.
"Are you ready to eat something, and join the ministry? Surely your father would have rescued you by now if he cared about you."
Stephanie nodded weakly. Her throat was too dry for her to talk, and she collapsed on the stairway. The Undertaker picked her up gently, and carried her upstairs, to his room, and lay her on his soft bed.
"Stay here," he whispered to her almost unconscious form, as he walked into the hallway,
"It's time," he said to a figure outside the door.
A tall, strong man in a white coat walked in the door. He was a skilled doctor, and a recruit of the Undertaker. He examined a cut in her forehead, and the grazes on her arms, and checked to see how badly dehydrated she was, before leaving the room, and returning with a large bag of medical supplies.
He cleaned an area of her left arm, and gently pushed a butterfly needle into a vein, and attached the tube up to a bag of fluids. Then he cleaned the grazed patches on her arm, putting a bandage around the worst one, and put 4 stitches in the cut in her temple. She didn't even flinch.
After the doctor left the room, the Undertaker placed a blanket over her, and let her sleep.
