Chapter 34 - In the Woods
Logan had been expecting his arrival. He should've figured Greengrass would find Daniella first, too.
No matter. He could deal with his sister later. His prey was finally here.
"I'm impressed, Greengrass. You've done justice to your reputation," he mocked, turning to face Ezra, keeping the kid in front of him, loosely cradled in one arm, while he raised his wand to aim at Ezra's chest. "Are you sure about that? I don't know, I think my niece will very much enjoy watching the little drama unfold, don't you think?"
He looked down at the baby, his lopsided grin widening as he said in a soothing voice, "What do you think, Daphne, should we make papa sing for us?"
He flicked his wand lazily in Ezra's direction, once, twice. He wondered how much it would take for Ezra to drop that newly acquired noble facade.
He knew deep down Ezra's heart was as dark as his, he was just as selfish and arrogant as always. And he'd prove Daniella just that.
No matter how many times he saw Logan's smile, it still made him want to double over and be ill. The fact that that same maddening smile was now focused on his daughter… his precious, priceless Daphne….
The curses were easily absorbed with a strong defensive Charm. Ezra set his gaunt, angular jaw.
"She's no relation of yours," he murmured dangerously. "You were a dead man walking the moment you laid your hand on her. She'll never even know your name."
He saw something moving in the doorway behind Logan, but did not betray his observation, for he had been expecting it. Instead, he curled his fingers pointedly around the base of his wand, resting his index finger lightly over the top; his signature position, which had been notorious in his school days for being blindingly fast and also, at times, wildly inaccurate.
Logan raised his eyes, his smile fading at Ezra's words. How dare he say that? His eyes darkened, now more a dark gray than blue gray. His fingers itched to cast the curse, but he tilted his head instead.
"Oh, really?" He murmured. There it was, that unexplainable arrogance. He'd come there alone, looking about to collapse at any moment, and he dared threaten him like that?
No, he was just trying to mess with him. In the end, he'd only worry about one thing: saving his own ass.
"Very well, Greengrass. Do you care that much about this little brat?" He adjusted the bundle in his arm; the baby was so small he could balance her in his hand and forearm. He reached out slightly, pulling her away from him; his wand was still firmly pointed at Ezra's chest. "Do you care more about her than about yourself?" He asked, mockingly.
There was a long pause.
"Then come and get her. And pay the price." With an easy motion, he threw the baby in the air; at the same time, he growled, "CRUCIO!"
It wasn't as though Ezra needed any more proof that Logan had gone certifiably mad. Anyone who chased after their own sister so obsessively was suspect, but especially Logan, who seemed intent on ruining his sister's entire life while still claiming that it was out of love… no, Logan had never been what any sane person might call 'normal.'
The shadow behind Logan moved again. He stared deep into those crazed grey-blue eyes; the more careless the other man became with the baby, the more his heart clenched, until the pressure in his chest was so much that he could scarcely take it anymore. Something had to be done. Something…
He realized what was happening a mere moment before it actually happened. Logan threw Daphne into the air with such force that her head and limbs lolled, weak and useless; he seemed to be watching the event in slow motion. His first instinct was to lunge for his daughter, but the wand pointed at his chest made that more than a little inconvenient. If he were to be cursed and fall on her…
Then again, if he simply deflected the curse here, Ledger might not have time to get away, and Ledger was even heavier than he was.
He lowered his wand purposefully. The curse hit him squarely in the chest, as it had been aimed; the pain was immense and unbearable and he could not tell whether Daphne had landed or been caught, being that all sound had been wiped from his brain and replaced with his own hoarse screaming.
Noah had been right outside the door for a couple of minutes now, listening, trying to understand what was going on, or how he could use the surprise effect to their advantage. All that was eclipsed from his mind when he heard Logan's words.
He didn't have time to understand what he meant. One moment later, he was watching Daphne being thrown in the air, her tiny arms free from the blanket reaching out for nothing. She was going to fall, and Ezra was on the ground, screaming in pain.
Noah didn't think. It had never been his specialty, either way. He ran forward, eyes fixed on the baby. He cast a Cushion spell in Daphne's general direction. Logan was in his way, but that didn't stop him. He tackled the older boy, jumped forward and caught a crying Daphne. In a continuous motion, he rolled to the side, landing heavily on his shoulder to keep her from hitting the ground.
He bit his tongue so hard to keep from cursing in pain, he tasted blood in his mouth.
An enraged growl kept him moving. Noah stumbled forward as he struggled to stand up, not being able to use his hands for balance. He stood and found himself facing a crazy looking Logan. His fingers held the wand tightly, and he made the strongest shield he could manage, while he held the hysterical baby against his chest, his arms wrapped around her in an attempt to protect her.
He didn't have enough time to make it to the door. Logan was going to hit him, no matter how strong his shield was. He didn't realize Ezra's screaming had stopped.
The pain was over for some time before Ezra could gather the will to move again. Unlike the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse could not be mastered with willpower; indeed, it seemed to hurt more completely every time he felt it, and he found himself taking longer and longer to recover.
He grit his teeth and rolled over on his back, unable to stand at the moment but determined to do something, anything, to save Daphne and Ledger, whom he could only see upside down.
His fingertips were unpleasantly numb from the searing of his nerves, but he eventually managed to fetch a small bag out of his pocket and rip it open with renewed force. He tossed a handful of deep black powder across the room; the surrounding area was engulfed in complete darkness.
"Go!" he shouted, his voice cracking with the effort. In the blessed cover of darkness, he rolled onto his stomach again and attempted to lift himself onto his knees. His breath, although still ragged, finally began to slow. "Get Daniella and the baby away from here! He's mine!"
Noah's full attention was fixed on the tip of Logan's wand. Years as a Beater sharpened his reflexes, which might allow him to escape one, maybe two curses… Months of practicing duels with Ezra only honed those skills further. Still, it was a small room, and Logan was too close…
Then, three things happened at the same time: Logan cast the killing curse, Noah dropped to one side trying to avoid it, and everything went dark… Except, immediately, Noah's eyes adjusted and he could see even better than before.
Logan looked around, confused for a brief moment. Then, he shouted "Sectumsempra!" as he swept the room in one swift motion.
Noah didn't need to hear Ezra's shout, he was moving towards the door already. There was a sharp stab-like pain on his already sore shoulder, but he didn't stop moving. He couldn't think about Ezra right now; he kept running into the shadows where Daniella stood, seeming about to run inside.
He felt something wet and warm covering the back of his shirt; it hurt like hell when he moved, but he made his way to Dan, who promptly took her daughter from his arms.
Daphne was still crying, and what a pair of lungs that little girl had. "What happened? Did he hurt her? Where's Ezra?" Dan's questions came too quickly for Noah to make sense of them and he bent forward and braced his knees for a second, catching his breath.
"You need to go back home, Dan, now!"
"No! Where is he?! Noah, what happened?!"
Noah raised his eyes to hers. "He's fighting Logan, Dan. I'll go back and help him, but you need to go now. Take Daphne to Jo, he can check her, make sure she's alright. Go, Dan!" He pleaded.
Daniella looked at her baby, torn between two different needs. Daphne was still crying, her little face red with the effort from the last few hours. She was so little to be going through all this…
She nodded. Relieved, Noah pointed to a clearing further ahead. "You can Apparate over there, we're still too close to the house for that. Go quickly, Dan."
Nothing had comforted Ezra in years like hearing his daughter's impressively loud cries move away from the darkness and into the forest comforted him. Still reeling from the pain, but now much more coherent and with renewed rage, he had only just gripped his wand again when he heard the curse ring out. Almost instantly, he felt the sting of a gash opening on his thigh.
He hissed out a noise that was half pain, half fury; he felt warm blood gush over his knees and trickle in small rivulets down his shaking leg.
"Enough!" he roared, stumbling to his feet in the dark. A non-verbal spell was cast; the darkness was broken by a tendril of angry fire that erupted into a huge, rushing wave of terrifying heat. Within seconds, it had formed a large and ominous crackling ring around Logan and Ezra, and had begun devouring the small wooden cottage around them. With every passing moment, the curse continued to swell.
He was able to lock eyes with Logan once more. Even from far away, he could see the minuscule reflection of the flames dancing in those hate-filled eyes.
"If I have to take you with me, so be it," he yelled over the destruction of the building around them. "But you die here!"
Noah had just reached the door to the cottage when the room burst into flames, far too quickly and far too strong to be a natural fire. He backed away, not sure who'd created that – although he had a pretty good suspicion. Had Ezra done that on purpose to keep him from entering the cottage again?
He didn't know how to fight Fyendfire, and he was certainly not going to tangle with flames controlled by a human mind. But, as his mother always said, when all else fails, try the Muggle way.
He ran around the building, until he found the window to his old bedroom. "Accio blanket!" He murmured, although with the roar of the flames no one would hear him.
When he caught the large, thick blanket, he spread it on the ground and murmured, "Aguamenti!" over it and over himself, until they were both drenched.
Logan spun around, trying to see something, anything. He heard the sound of pain escaping Ezra's lips, but he couldn't hear the baby crying anymore. They'd managed to escape.
It didn't matter, he told himself, as the darkness faded, replaced by the red, hot light of flames. Ezra was still there; it was between the two of them now.
He looked around at the ring of fire surrounding them both, angrily eating away at the furniture. He looked at Ezra, standing weakly on the other side of their improvised battlefield.
"And how are you going to do that, Greengrass? Are you going to burn us both down with this shitty shack?" He shouted above the roar of the flames. "Who would've guessed. You have a heart after all. I'll enjoy stepping on it very much."
His hair was now damp and sweat trickled down his face. The temperature was rising quickly inside that furnace. He needed to finish him off fast, before it became impossible to leave that place.
He cast a killing curse, but it missed the target. Logan wiped the sweat off of his eyes and took a step closer to Ezra. He started casting curse after curse at Ezra, more quickly than he'd ever moved before. He needed to deflect Ezra's attention long enough for the boy to stop feeding the Fyendfire curse.
When he found an opening, he aimed at Ezra's chest and shouted, "Crucio!"
Daniella stumbled onto the front door steps of the mansion. Her entire body ached, still not fully recovered from the effort of giving birth. The streets were completely empty and there was a slight shade of gray starting to color the sky. It was almost dawn.
Daphne was still crying, but her sobs were barely audible now, due to the baby's exhaustion. The absence of that sound hurt almost more than her daughter's pained crying had. She was terrified of what it might mean.
"Jo!" She called out, not sure she could climb up the steps on her own. She slowly pushed herself up the stairs. Daphne fell completely silent. "Pokey?! Someone…"
There was a loud crack and Pokey appeared next to her. "Mistress Daniella! You returned!" The elf squealed, in a tone that was one part relief, nine parts anxiety. "Master Jo has been so distraught!"
"Take me inside, Pokey. Take me to him…"
"Yes, Mistress Daniella. Immediately."
Pokey promptly grabbed the nightgown Daniella had been wearing since she left the hospital and, with another loud crack, Daniella found herself on one of the living rooms of the mansion, looking at a very pale, very anxious, and blissfully familiar face.
"Jo…" She murmured, not sure what she was asking for.
Tears filled her eyes again, tears of anger, tears of fear and frustration. She tried to stop them, but Ezra was still in the cottage and that was all she could think about. Now that she was here, with her daughter safely in her arms, looking at these walls, looking at her daughter's eyes, eyes that mirrored his so perfectly already, Daniella asked herself if she would ever feel his arms around her again; if she would ever hear his voice again.
Logan. Always Logan. She remembered the boy he'd been and tried to reconcile him with the man he was. It wasn't the same person. Her brother had died the day he tried to kill them in that harbor; the man, Logan, had died the day he touched her daughter. She'd mourned her brother. Now, there was nothing left but hatred and a deep, deep anger that couldn't be quenched until her family was safe.
"I'm going to kill him if Ezra doesn't return."
Ezra smiled a grim, maddened smile at Logan's continued arrogance. Did he still not realize? Or did he realize and no longer care…?
A green jet of light whistled by his ear, but Ezra didn't flinch. The strain of controlling the fire was so heavy on his mind that it was all he could do, in his anger, to keep it from engulfing the forest. Still, he had enough wherewithal to parry the smaller, annoying curses away.
He could only hope that Ledger had kept his promise and was well on his way somewhere else. At least, he thought with a kind of morose finality, there was that.
A strange and rare mix of curses issued from Ezra's wand, but almost all of them missed and dissipated harmlessly in the growing wall of fire. He had only just raised his arm to deliver the final curse – the one that would not miss – before the Cruciatus once again caught him off his guard.
The reaction was immediate; Ezra cried out, and the flames instantly shrunk threefold, as though they had been invisibly doused. Small magical fire sprites could be seen darting around the edges before being consumed in the whole again. He had nearly dropped his wand.
But no…
"Expulso!" he countered, his voice notably strained with the agony. He aimed the curse not at Logan, but instead at the floor under Logan's feet; the fire had dimmed, but he was still close enough…
"Merlin's beard, Dan," Jo blurted out instantly, as though he had been holding in words – any and all words – for a solid year. He leapt to his feet and bustled over to his best friend and goddaughter, already inspecting them for injuries without needing to be asked.
"Shhh," he murmured, giving Dan's hair a comforting stroke before he pulled both her and the baby into a small, protective huddle. He looked down at Daphne's small, round, reddened face; he managed a watery little smile.
"Here, let me," he cooed, scooping the dark-haired baby up as gently as was humanly possible. "There, now, shhh." The raspy crying, such as it was, began to slowly per off.
"She's fine," he whispered, bouncing very slightly. "Just tired, as far as I can see… are you hurt, Dan?" he surveyed his friend again. Nothing was immediately apparent, but…
"Where are…" he trailed off, almost afraid to ask. "Noah and Ezra? Did you see them? What happened?"
Daniella's matter-of-fact declaration caught Josiah somewhat off guard, and he stopped bouncing for a split second. By the time he resumed, silence had fallen over him again.
If Ezra didn't return… if Noah didn't return…
The tears threatened to spill over Jo's cheeks again, but these were tears of stifled anger instead of fear. If they didn't return… there would be no magic powerful enough to conceal Logan Hawke from him.
"It won't happen," he whispered, trying to sound convinced. "That won't happen, Dan. It won't."
Logan was caught off guard by Ezra's reaction; he jumped back when the flames suddenly turned towards him, but he was still caught in the fire. The screams that filled his ears now were his own, as he desperately tried to put out the fire.
After what seemed like an eternity of blinding pain, Logan was gasping heavily, his teeth clenched tightly from the pain shooting through his body. It felt like he was still burning, even though he'd managed to stop the flames.
His hand shook violently as he looked up, trying to find Ezra. There was only one thought in his mind now. He could not lose. He could not.
When he saw Greengrass's silhouette through the smoke and his own blurred eyes he aimed and shouted, "Affligo! Sectumsempra!" he paused, still gasping, his legs hurting so bad he was about to cut them off. He couldn't figure out much anymore, but he shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
Ezra's nostrils flared with adrenaline at the sound of Logan's earnest screaming. For a brief moment, he had the urge – the dark, almost unforgivable urge – to let the flames make a better toy out of the other man. But he found that he did not have it in his heart to needlessly torture, not even for Logan.
Perhaps, he thought with a dull flicker of amusement… he had really been a good wizard all along.
He was not able to rest long, because Logan's reaction to the flames was surprisingly adept. Exhausted, Ezra began forming another Shield Charm well in advance; it was brittle, though, and although he could not hear Logan's incantations over the renewed sound of the hungry fire, he could tell instantly that it would not hold.
He tried to dive to the right, but the curse still grazed along his collarbone. Or what had been, previously, his collarbone; he did not need any sort of medical training to recognize the crackling sound under his skin as the complete shattering of any bone he might have once had under the thin skin of his upper chest. He slumped pathetically for a moment, cradling the slightly misshapen left half of his chest, so stunned by the pain that he could not cry out.
Somewhere behind him, a beam succumbed to the fire and landed with a deafening, ember-laden crash. Or perhaps it had been a tree… at this point, who could say? The smell of singed flesh, exacerbated by the sweltering heat, stung his eyes. A small bead of sweat gathered at the end of his angular nose and fell onto the charred wooden floor, where it hissed and evaporated.
"Confringo!" he shouted, desperate now, unable to lift his arm above shoulder level without excruciating pain. "Expulso!" More already-unstable parts of the cottage exploded around him. He rallied, blood-stained and soot-covered, and took aim.
Finally… finally, his hand did not shake. The man who had ruined his life… who had, ultimately, killed his parents… abducted his wife… the man who had dared lay a finger on his blessedly innocent child.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
For a glorious moment, the fire roaring through the cottage seemed to subside for a few moments. Noah didn't waste time pulling the blanket over him and hurrying inside.
Before he could reach the few steps on the front, though, there was an explosion on the right side of the cottage, so strong it threw Noah on his already injured back. All air escaped his lungs, and he stared, helpless, as newly fed fire finished the job that the Fyendfire had started.
He pulled himself up with effort, wondering if he would find anyone alive inside when the already familiar flash of bright green light cut the night.
"No… EZRA!" He shouted, forgetting completely that it might be Logan the one coming out of there alive. With a roar of defiance, he dropped the heavy blanket and ran inside, narrowing his eyes and pulling his shirt over his nose, trying to breathe.
The temperature inside was extremely high and the heat hit him like a wall of bricks, but he pushed on, looking around desperately for a human shape.
He found Logan first, close to the door, his burned legs twisted in an odd position, his eyes wide open and completely empty of all hatred… of all life.
He looked away from that sight before it made him ill. "Ezra?!"
There was another small explosion and a large piece of the wall collapsed, lifting a cloud of ash and dust and debris. The wooden roof creaked and snapped and started to bend dangerously. The whole place was about to collapse.
"Where are you, you stubborn idiot?" He muttered, skipping over the destroyed couch.
And then he found him. His heart started beating a lot faster and he hurried forward. Ezra was covered in blood and soot, his wand still firmly clenched between his fingers. Was he…?
When he stirred, Noah swore violently and quickly helped pulling him up. "Merlin's broom, you scared the shit out of me, you idiot!"
Ezra wasn't responding clearly, but at least he was alive. That had to be good enough, right?
Another piece of wall fell and the roof bent some more. Noah passed one of Ezra's arms around his shoulder, put his hand around the other boy's waste and hoisted him up before dragging him out of the cottage.
It was then that he heard Ezra's voice inside his head, teasing him about not using magic to make his life easier. In a gesture that was more defiance than anything else, Noah pulled his wand out of his back pocket and levitated Ezra out of the cottage and far enough into the trees so that he could Apparate them out of there.
Josiah was already standing – he had been pacing nervously – when Noah Apparated into the front hall carrying Ezra's limp body. Both of them were covered in soot and blood, and the more closely he looked, the more his heart sank and his veins turned to ice water.
"Oh, Noah," he whispered, rushing over to help his boyfriend. He paused; his eyes lingered fearfully over Ezra's lolling head. "Is he…?"
Noah looked bad enough, and Josiah longed to fix him immediately, but Ezra… what little color that had been in the Slytherin boy's skin was absent. He tried, mostly in vain, to block Dan's view of him, just in case… in case…
Noah exhaled softly as he met Jo's eyes. A violent shudder ran through his entire body, adrenaline and tension suddenly leaving his system, washed over by the relief of seeing his boyfriend again.
"Ezra?!"
Noah looked over Jo's shoulder, to Daniella, who had come up behind him and was now looking at Ezra's unresponsive body, her eyes wide with shock. All color drained from her face; fearing she might pass out, Noah quickly said, "He's alive." Daniella looked up at him, as if she wasn't sure she'd heard right. "He's alive," he repeated softly.
His legs didn't seem to be able to keep him up for much longer, so he gently levitated Ezra over to the closest couch before taking Jo's face in his hands and pulling him in for a fierce, almost desperate kiss.
"I love you," he whispered. He opened his mouth, as if ready to say something else, but the words got stuck on the way out. Daniella was now leaning over Ezra and the Slytherin boy needed Jo's help.
"I'm fine," he said instead. "Go help him."
Josiah inhaled so deeply that his eyes fluttered shut with the relief. Ezra was alive. Noah was alive, too. Daniella and the baby were alive…
Everything was going to be fine.
He opened his eyes, then, and looked at Noah critically.
"Are you hurt?" he asked seriously, gently pulling the larger boy toward him by the front of his shirt. "Let me see you."
The kiss distracted him only for a moment; his eyebrows furrowed, and for a split second, he forgot about everything else. It didn't last long, but he supposed that a second-long vacation was better than no vacation at all.
"I love you too," he whispered, his voice once again threatening to crack. When he pulled his hands away from Noah's back, however, he realized that his hand was covered in blood. The sight alarmed him, even as Noah insisted that he was fine.
"Noah…" he started to protest, but already knew that his boyfriend was right. If someone didn't tend to Ezra soon…
"If you're fine, you can put this dittany on your shoulder," he informed the blond boy, rushing over to where three rags had been soaking in essence of dittany for at least a half hour. "It's going to sting, and I'm sorry, but don't you dare move it until I say. I'll look at you after I…"
He made his way to the couch, where Ezra still lay motionless. He swallowed nervously and pulled out his wand, clutching one of the dittany rags in his other hand. Then, as though he'd just come to the conclusion of a very heated debate with himself, he used his wand tip to shred Ezra's pants and shirt; the fabric ripped loudly, but the skin was left untouched.
"This needs to go on his leg," he informed Dan, holding out the rag apologetically. "There's charring here, and…" he motioned vaguely to Ezra's collarbone, where an angry, fresh-red bruise had formed under the translucent skin. "I'm not entirely sure what's happened here, but we have to treat him for smoke inhalation first – he'll suffocate."
With that announcement, he closed his eyes and attempted to steady his hand. Then, as a bright pink light appeared at the end of his wand, he lowered the tip to the joining of Ezra's ribs and murmured something inaudible. With his other hand, he seemed to be monitoring the other boy's pulse.
After a few long moments, Ezra finally showed signs of life; he hacked miserably, turning his head to one side to better gasp for air.
Jo fussing at him was such a normal part of their lives, Noah couldn't help but smile. Those few moments did more to comfort him and put his heart to rest than anything else could've done.
Nodding obediently, he carefully pulled his ruined shirt over his head, trying not to make a sound as the pain shot through his shoulder. It seemed like he'd pulled a muscle, to join his other injury. Then, he positioned the rag over the gash on his shoulder and followed Jo to the couch.
Daniella wasn't paying attention to anything other than Ezra. She only looked away from him long enough to take one of the rags from Jo's hands and start tending the gash on his leg. Looking at her, Noah's mind formed the picture of a terrible storm growing at the distance, threatening to destroy everything in its wake.
When Ezra stirred back to life, part of that storm forming behind her eyes seemed to quiet down.
Daniella looked as Ezra gasped for air, hers caught in her chest. Lightheaded with the relief that washed over her when he finally moved, she moved closer, willing to push Jo out of the way if necessary.
In that moment, Noah knelt down close to Ezra's head and said brightly, "Ah, welcome back, Greengrass! I was starting to think I'd have to give you mouth to mouth respiration!"
Ezra had to rattle off a few more nasty coughs before he could speak, and even then, he didn't say much. At Noah's wisecrack, his eyes rolled shut in a pained attempt at a smirk that quickly faded back into pain.
"Is he dead?" he rasped. His voice was so paper-thin that the words were barely discernible. "Did I get him? Ledger? Tell me he's dead."
Something inexplicable flicked across Josiah's face, but was instantly stifled.
For a moment, he wondered if hoping to hear of Logan's death made him a bad person.
"Don't talk too much," he ordered, trying to shake the thought from his mind. With one tender, tentative hand, he pressed around Ezra's bruised collarbone. Even with such a light touch, the pain seemed to spirit Ezra away again, and his entire body tensed anew.
Josiah withdrew his hand cautiously.
"It's shattered," he murmured, eyebrows still furrowed. "I'm not sure if I can…"
Noah's amused grin died slowly at Ezra's question. Everyone seemed suspended, waiting for him to answer that question, all of a sudden.
He glanced quickly at Daniella, but it was Ezra's eyes he searched when he said quietly, "He's dead."
For a moment, no one said anything. When Noah chanced another look at Daniella, another portion of that storm seemed to be fading as well.
Daniella winced sympathetically as Ezra cringed in pain. "I have Skele-Gro upstairs, but…" She met Jo's eyes. "It's more complicated than that, isn't it?"
At Noah's confirmation, Josiah breathed out a shaky sigh of relief that he hadn't known he'd been holding. After another moment, he had his wand over Ezra's chest again, although this time the light was a bright acid green. It seemed to be undulating over his skin in waves.
"If I could remove the bone splinters, it would be fine," Jo murmured. "But I have no way of telling where they've gone, and I'm not really qualified… if I use a low-level spell for bone mending, I can't guarantee that they'll fuse properly."
He pulled back, looking ashamed of himself.
"I'm sorry, it's just…" he looked over Ezra once more, studying for the first time the broadened streak of white that framed his gaunt face. "I'm truly afraid I'll do more harm than good."
He paused.
"Pokey, could you—"
"Wait," Ezra interjected hoarsely. He seemed to be floating in and out of the conversation; he still looked a little wild-eyed. "I… want to see Daphne first."
The sentence ended in a whisper.
"Please."
Daniella rested a hand on Jo's forearm. "It's alright, Jo. We can take him to St. Mungo now."
She didn't know if Ezra would be completely healed or not, didn't know what would happen now, that so many things had changed. But they were all there, together, alive, and that was good enough. It had to be good enough for now.
At Ezra's request, she stood, still wearing only a robe Pokey had brought her that she wore over the hospital gown and crossed the room.
She hadn't been able to leave that room until she knew the others were back, and she hadn't wanted her daughter out of her sight again so, while she'd fed her, Pokey had provided that the crib was moved downstairs temporarily.
Daphne was now sleeping peacefully, blissfully unaware of the chaos around her. Daniella picked her up gently and tucked her against her chest. Daphne stirred, opening those wide, curious dark eyes, searching a familiar face.
Daniella approached the couch, sitting on the edge, close to her husband, with extreme care as to not hurt him.
"Say hi to daddy, Daphne," she murmured, leaning so that Ezra could see his daughter.
Ezra struggled to keep his vision clear as Daniella brought their baby and knelt beside of him. The smoke residue that clung to his body still irritated his eyes and wounds, but that had very little to do with the swell of emotion he was feeling now…
He peered over at Daphne, enough to see that those eyes were his eyes, the hair his hair. But she was so small, so fragile, so pure.
Most of all, she was loved. Loved as he had not been. She would grow up being loved, raised by people who cared for her as more than a pawn in a fruitless blood cleansing endeavor.
With effort, he raised a shaking hand to the side of his daughter's face and brushed with light fingertips against her soft, sweet cheek.
A tear fell from the corner of his half-lidded eye and crossed his cheek, leaving a bright trail behind it. Only a few more moments of this silence passed before the scratching in his lungs and throat got the better of him again, and he turned his head and wheezed painfully.
This, to Josiah, was the final straw.
"You've really got to go to the hospital," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion and worry. He wiped at his round eyes with the back of a soft, gentle hand. He looked at Noah imploringly, as though expecting his boyfriend to wield some kind of influence over the other boy that he could not.
=/=/=
Ezra was still hurtling in and out of consciousness, but it was no longer due to the injuries he'd sustained. Shortly after his arrival to St. Mungo's, a petite witch with a lined, serious face and bright coral lipstick had handed him a small potion vial and ordered him to drink. He obeyed, not least of all because Daniella was still scowling over him, but also – what harm could such a small vial do?
The answer, apparently, was quite more than he'd anticipated. Ever since then, he'd been feeling inexplicably warm and, if he was perfectly honest, very, very nice.
Still, he couldn't seem to stay awake, and he wanted to desperately.
"Nng," he managed to vocalize, furrowing his dark brow over closed eyes. "Merlin's beard."
Sometime after the potion had been administered, a taller, more professional looking wizard in Healer robes had come and done something to his chest. It hadn't hurt, but it had felt a bit strange. He'd been informed that they were going to regrow his collarbone, which would take approximately three days due to the nature bone regrowth in general and also the thin, complex network of tendons and nerves that surrounded the bone in his chest cavity.
The words, although he remembered them precisely, did not mean much to him. They kept swimming around in his mind and not doing an awful lot except providing him with very short, very bizarre dreams.
His head jerked.
"Did I fall asleep again?" he asked wearily, blinking stupidly at his wife. "Forgive me. I just can't seem to… bloody hell."
Daniella raised her eyes from the three week old Witch Weekly and met her husband's bleary eyes. She couldn't help but smile. There would be plenty of time to be angry later.
Before she answered him, though, she put the magazine down and rang a bell that was hanging beside his head. Only then did she lean forward. "You've fallen asleep plenty of times, actually," she replied sweetly. "You haven't been awake for more than a few minutes all day. How are you feeling?"
One of the nurses came into the room then, carrying a large tray with several covered platters. Daniella's smile grew wider. "Thank you," she told the nurse, accepting the tray.
The sound of the bell seemed to echo around his skull for five seconds longer than it might have otherwise, and Ezra winced a bit.
"Have I?" he murmured. He looked at his wife, who seemed to be glowing despite recent events. "I'm sorry, darling. It must be dreadfully boring for you. Is your…" Ezra squinted a bit. "Is your hair shinier? Have you done something different?"
This thought was cut short by the arrival of a nurse carrying so many food platters that the sight alone made him queasy.
"I'm really not…" he trailed off weakly, faltering at the gleeful look on Daniella's face. Too gleeful, really. "I don't have much of an appetite," he finished lamely, trying to look as pitiful as his dignity would allow.
Daniella's smile turned into a chuckle. Now that she was certain everyone would fully recover, and that the constant threat hanging over their heads was gone for good, she felt like she could breathe much more easily.
"Well, I gave birth…" she said thoughtfully and playfully. "It was either that, or you just really, really missed me."
It still put her on edge to be there without her daughter in sight, but she'd go back soon to check on her. The last twenty-four hours had been most terrible, and the happiest day of her life, and now she was determined to fully appreciate only the joy of being a mother and having her husband back with her, after so many months apart. Even if he was in such a bad shape still.
At his protests when he saw the food, Daniella just gave him a piercing stare. "If you want to get healthy enough to hold your daughter before she learns to walk, you will eat, Ezra Greengrass," she stated, in a tone that didn't admit any discussion.
She started lifting the lids, one by one. "There is soup, there is vegetable stew or grilled fish with mashed potatoes, if you prefer, and then there's bread pudding or a raspberry cheesecake." She glanced at him. "Clearly, they don't want Mr. Greengrass to starve either. What do you want?" She asked, although she was already preparing the soup bowl.
Ezra smiled sleepily but good-naturedly, silently deciding that it really must be both. He believed honestly that Daniella grew more beautiful with each passing day; every time he looked at her, no matter how many times he'd seen her before, he always noticed something wonderful that he seemed to have missed.
Her dangerous look made his smile falter. He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest again, but decided against it almost immediately. He looked down to study his blanket, resigned.
She began to lift the lids covering the platters, and a mish-mash of smells wafted toward him. He wrinkled his nose a bit; despite her insistence, and even his willingness, his stomach did a weak somersault.
"I…" he surveyed his options with tired seriousness. "Soup?" he murmured hopefully, chancing a look upward. Then, in a moment of bravery, his pride rallied again.
"I wasn't really starving," he mumbled weakly. "I was just… you know how I am under stress."
Daniella busied herself with the soup, even if it didn't need much work to be served, and didn't meet his eyes for a while. Then, she helped him straighten up on the bed, fluffed his pillows, and set the bowl close enough so he could eat without pushing his injured side.
"I know, Ezra," she said quietly. "I know you." She searched his eyes then; so beautiful, and so haunted, even to this day.
No matter how much she wanted to, she knew she couldn't fix his past. Those wounds would always be there; his ghosts would always be there. But she could keep them at bay now. She 'should' have kept them at bay for those past few months. And she'd failed.
"I should've gone to that bloody store, sometimes. I should've insisted that you came home, or… I shouldn't have left you alone."
Ezra struggled to free his arms from the mountain of blankets that had been placed on his bed. All of his muscles felt weak and useless; even that small bit of exertion made him a little breathless, which in turn made him frustrated. He could also feel the potion wearing off, albeit very, very slowly; there was a twinge in his side when he wiggled that had not been there earlier.
The fact that her help was sorely needed wasn't helping his case, he supposed, but now… after so many years of refusing help, perhaps he'd finally learned to let go.
He pushed his back gingerly against the pillow Daniella had just fluffed, looking more tired than ever and also perhaps a little embarrassed. Still, he made no protest.
"Thank you," he murmured, although he wasn't sure precisely which action he was thanking her for. She had done so much already. He stared into the soup bowl she'd prepared and watched the droplets of fat swirl lazily.
Slowly and laboriously, he reached for the spoon and stirred it a bit.
His brain still felt impossibly foggy, and it took him a few moments to think of what to say in response to her admission. There was a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injuries.
"It was dangerous," he whispered, after a moment. "I couldn't have expected you to be there… I was just…"
Lonely? It was certainly true. On more than one occasion, he had curled up in his small, rickety bed in the back of the shop and thought longingly of home, of Daniella, of his friends, of the house elves. Jealous? He supposed it was also accurate. He had always been – much to his own chagrin – a bit of a jealous, surly person.
"It seemed very unfair at the time," he finished lamely. "But it wasn't anything you'd done."
Carefully, he raised a spoonful of broth to his lips and sipped. It took a bit of self-coaxing to swallow, but he managed it. Then, he looked at her and smiled weakly.
"It's alright," he mused, a little hoarsely. "Certainly not as good as yours."
More than anything, Daniella wanted to lie down and curl up against him, feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body against hers. Hadn't they deserved a break yet? Hadn't they done enough?
"Do you have to go back?" She asked, realizing she had no idea what would happen from now on. No one from the Order had even bothered to show up yet. They could only count on each other, as usual. "Because I won't spend another night away from you." She pondered that. "Well, except tonight, because they already said I couldn't stay, and Daphne needs me, but after that…"
She smiled at the compliment. "I'll bring fresh soup tomorrow, then. And Daphne too, if the Healers say you've been good and did everything they asked you to. I think she misses you already."
Ezra felt his meager appetite stir a bit, and downed a couple more spoonfuls of broth before Daniella posed her question. He stopped eating, then, adopting the characteristic look of someone who had absolutely known that they'd forgotten something quite important, and had only just remembered what it was.
"I don't know," he murmured, after a beat of silence. He had been so invested in defending his wife and child that he'd forgotten that he had any other responsibilities at all. "I suppose I'll be told, eventually."
There was more disdain in his voice than he'd meant there to be. He took another slurp of soup and managed a bit of a smile at Daniella's rambling.
"What a shame; and here I was, planning to take the most interesting nap of my life. Are you sure you can afford to miss it?"
With his hunger renewed, he eventually grew tired of using the spoon and graduated to gripping the bowl at both sides to drink from it.
"Ezra, I'm serious," she said, knowing all too well she might be pushing harder than he'd be willing to accept. After all, in that aspect, they were the same. They wouldn't submit to someone else's will. But she wouldn't make the same mistake again. Ezra had spent enough of his life alone. "I tried to be supportive of the mission they gave you but… you won't be sent somewhere else to fend for yourself. Not if I have any say in the matter."
She sighed, trying to take the chance he offered to lighten up the mood. "I can't wait to take you up on that offer. But not today. We both need sleep. Not that I'll get much, Daphne will make sure of that."
Ezra sobered up quickly at her words.
"I know you're serious, darling," he murmured in what he hoped was a comforting manner. "I'll make sure you have a say in the matter."
At the moment, it was the best he could do; somehow, he doubted that he'd still be suitable for undercover work anyway, but he wasn't sure if that would comfort her or only perturb her even more.
Still, he smiled a small, wry smile.
"Do I need more sleep?" he mumbled affectionately. Then, he took a moment to look at the bags under his wife's eyes critically. "Pokey can watch Daphne for a bit while you rest. She's very good with children."
He placed the empty bowl back on the side table with a hint of pride.
"Well, yes, Pokey has been very helpful, but for the time being, I'm the only one who can feed Daphne," she said, raising an eyebrow, amused with the effect the potions were having on her husband's agile mind. "And let me tell you," she added, glancing at the now empty bowl. "Now, I could almost believe your daughter got her appetite from you."
As she said that, she found herself looking at her husband's newly acquired grey hairs. It reminded her of other newly acquired skills he'd apparently learned.
"So, when were you thinking of telling me you can turn into a crow?" She asked suddenly. "Or were you planning on flying home in the middle of the night and scare the hell out of everyone?"
Ezra could feel her studying him. Suddenly, he was more than a bit self-conscious. He really looked a mess, didn't he? The fact that she hadn't said anything about it worried him. Was it because she liked it? Because she didn't, and wasn't sure how to tell him so?
No matter what he'd expected her to say, it hadn't been anything about his becoming an Animagus.
He blinked.
"Ah…" he said, his tone cautious again. "I… well, it never really came up, did it?" He waited a few heartbeats. "Were you impressed?" he asked lowly, with just a hint of a smile. He met her eyes and gave her a look that contained just a bit of mischief. "I did work quite hard on it, you know."
"Never came up?" Daniella repeated, baffled. They'd spent a considerable amount of time writing to each other in those notebooks, and it had never come up? She huffed out a laugh. "I can imagine."
She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "I'll admit it. It was a very pretty crow. A little too cocky, maybe, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way." She gave a dramatic sigh. "And I guess it's a better hobby than spending your nights at the Three Broomsticks, chatting with some overfriendly girl."
"Well, technically," he amended. "It was meant to be a secret. Dumbledore said it was very important that I told no one, or all our work would be for naught. No doubt I am a Slytherin through and through, but I daresay that Dumbledore's disapproval is best avoided. He can be a bit fearsome."
His eyes went a bit hazy for a moment at this thought; now that he'd said that, he wondered what the consequences would be. What would Dumbledore say then?
He huffed out a small sigh. Being called a pretty crow did, however, lift his spirits substantially.
"Now, really," he purred, grinning slyly. "You know I have neither the time nor the patience for overfriendly women. What fun would there be in that?"
He leaned over, somewhat painfully, to plant a kiss on her radiant forehead.
"I love you even more than the bartender at the Hog's Head loves goats. He was generally my only company, and I don't think anything could make me long for you more than that."
=/=/=
Ezra peeled back another page of the Daily Prophet with a licked finger and continued to read. Occasionally, he looked up and around, just to remind himself that he was, indeed, at home.
He was seated at the kitchen table, although it didn't appear that he had eaten any food. The only dishes near him were a small teacup, empty, on its saucer. His hair had been trimmed by his own wand, and went a long way toward making him look less like a crazed mountain hermit. The white forelock, however… he hadn't managed to get rid of it yet. Apparently, the effects of the Cruciatus Curse were more stubborn than he'd anticipated. None of the hair color restoration potions he knew how to brew were strong enough to cover it.
Pale yellow-blue morning light was visible through the tall kitchen windows. Birds were chirping. It was approximately 6:37 AM.
The sound of weight on the stairs caught his attention, and he looked toward the doorway in greeting and looked back to the paper.
"Morning," he greeted. "You're up early, Ledger. And before you have any thoughts about dragging me to the pitch, I'm on light labor and bed rest."
Noah climbed down the stairs, deciding that he might as well have an early breakfast. After taking a long, long nap with Jo the previous day – in which he'd actually gotten some sleep, which attested to how tiring their adventure had been – his sleep schedule was now very weird.
He stopped by the kitchen door, still rubbing his eye. He blinked once, twice. After deciding he wasn't hallucinating, and trying to remember if Jo had mentioned something about Ezra's return, Noah mumbled a raspy "Good morning," that sounded like a question, and went for the fridge.
He searched its contents, picked a couple of apples and turned to face Ezra again. He was sure Jo hadn't mentioned anything; he'd been paying attention.
"Did you run away from the hospital?" He asked in the same tone he'd ask about the weather.
"No," Ezra replied, a little too cheerily. "I was discharged at midnight during the shift change. I didn't want to trouble any of you by waking you."
He licked his finger again and flipped through another page. He studied Noah over the top of it placidly with a hint of a smile.
Noah paused in mid-bite and looked at Ezra. Then he looked over his shoulder at the kitchen door, half expecting to find Dan standing there.
He snorted out a chuckle and shook his head as he took a seat across the table from his friend. "You really don't get it, do you?" He chewed with enthusiasm. "Or maybe you just secretly enjoy riling up your wife…" He suggested.
"Either way, you owe me an explanation," he said seriously, leaning back on his seat placidly and eating the rest of his apple.
Ezra smiled at Noah's words about Dan's temper, as though he was sharing a private joke with only himself. He surveyed his friend with a critical, but not unkind, look. His smile faded a bit when Noah spoke up again and he quirked an eyebrow in silent question. He lifted his teacup innocently.
Noah waited; Ezra just played innocent. Clearing his throat, he attempted an imitation of Ezra's self-confident voice. "Listen for a crow… That's not the kind of situation you want to startle a man like that, Greengrass!"
"Ah," he said, managing to look a bit sheepish. His tone, however, was amused. "I am sorry. I hadn't meant to startle you. I wasn't…" he trailed off; his eyes got a bit hazy, then cleared.
"I wasn't thinking about anything much else," he said, with some finality. "If it's any consolation, I was under strict orders not to tell anyone. Even Daniella."
He paused again, draining his teacup.
"Orders from Dumbledore," he elaborated, looking a bit strained. "But that's botched now, so I don't suppose it matters anymore."
He grew a bit silent again; something was nagging at the back of his mind.
"You carried me out, didn't you?" he asked quietly, looking pensive.
"Dumbledore is a weird man, seriously," Noah said, shaking his head. "Why would there be a problem in telling us?"
He met Ezra's gaze, at his question. Did he consider Noah staying behind as breaking his promise?
"Yes, I did," he said honestly. "You'd passed out, the cottage was on fire and about to collapse, and…" He shrugged. "I sent Dan and Daphne home first, but if I hadn't stayed with you, she would've gone back to the cottage herself, you know that."
"What an understatement," Ezra mused, thinking of the older, bespectacled man who had spent hour-long private sessions teaching him how to transform into a bird. "Brilliant man, really, but absolutely bonkers. I believe the idea was for me to use the ability only on Order missions – if I'd told anyone at all, the purpose might have been lost. For example, if any of you had known, and the situation had been different, you might have recognized me, and that might have put us all in danger."
He cleared his throat a bit.
"But, as we've established, I've ruined it now. That's one conversation I'm not in a hurry to have," he added under his breath. No one in the Order had been in touch with him yet; he was beginning to worry.
Noah's honesty distracted him from this perturbing thought, and he listened carefully as the other boy – his best friend? – detailed the method he'd used to, effectively, save Ezra's life.
Even after what he'd done. The curses he'd thrown… he'd used the worst Unforgivable Curse of all.
How could he properly express what that meant to him? Feelings had never been one of his strong suits.
"I…" he began, a bit tentatively. "Just wanted to thank you for that. For being there, I mean to say. For enabling me to be a father to my daughter. I really am… indescribably grateful."
A bit of emotion had crept into his voice near the end, and he looked off to the side, embarrassed. After a moment, his mouth twitched.
"Although if Daniella has her way with feeding me, I daresay you'll never be able to pick me up again. You should be glad I was malnourished at the time."
Noah looked away, feeling more than a little shocked to see Ezra so… emotional. "Sure, mate. You're welcome," he said awkwardly. "You would've done the same for me."
He snorted at Ezra's last quip. "Oh, come on, do you really think I 'carried' you?! That's Muggle stuff," he said in a conceited tone, waving his wand shortly in front of him.
His eyes widened suddenly, as he remembered something. "By the way, you owe me a motorbike!" He said, pointing a finger at Ezra.
The sound of steps came from behind him, and Noah turned to the door. He pressed his lips together and immediately turned his eyes back to the empty teacup.
Daniella, holding Daphne and murmuring something to her, stopped abruptly as she saw who was in the kitchen. "And what are you doing here?" She asked her husband.
Ezra smirked as Ledger brandished his wand.
"About time you learned," he teased good-naturedly. At the accusing finger, though, he leaned back a bit in his chair. A motorbike…?
Oh!
Ezra managed to look properly ashamed of himself at this.
"Yes, so I do," he conceded meekly. "I suppose you know where to buy motorbikes? If you like, perhaps later today…." The sentence died when Ezra, too, heard footsteps and soft talking. A few short moments later, Daniella was standing before them.
Her pointed question did not surprise him. He attempted to look as innocent as was humanly possible. His chin was still cradled in his palm.
"I do live here," he replied slyly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But since you insist, I was discharged last night around midnight while the nurses were changing shifts. I thought I could arrange something of a surprise."
He paused heavily, looking to Noah for assistance; Noah, however, was staring into his teacup.
"Surprise?" he murmured, a bit weakly.
Noah considered the possibility of using a Disillusionment Charm, but he supposed it was too late for that. Instead, he just sat quietly, hoping no one would notice him.
Daniella's expression was impossible to read for a few moments. There was a mix of happiness for seeing him home, at last, and looking a lot healthier than he had a couple of days ago, but then…
Well, she should've known he'd do something like that, she thought, looking back down at her daughter. "Surprise indeed," she said finally, managing a small smile. "I'm happy they let you out sooner."
Closing the distance between them, she asked, "Ready to hold your daughter? She needs to burp."
Ezra was trying his absolute hardest to look charming, but the suspense was slowly getting to him. His smirk faltered slightly.
"Yes," he agreed, happy that she had finally spoken. "Yes, me too. Their creamed potatoes were dreadful."
The closer she got, the happier he became. He stared adoringly at Daphne, who was looking around the room with her dark brown eyes and occasionally gurgling. He would finally be able to hold her. To love her.
Being told that the baby needed to burp, though, merely confused him. He blinked at Daniella a bit stupidly.
"To burp," he repeated, taking another close look at Daphne. She seemed happy enough. If she needed to burp, what on earth was stopping her? Surely burping was some sort of inborn reflex.
He'd never held a baby in his life, but opened his arms regardless.
At Ezra's puzzled expression, Daniella gave a resigned sigh. She'd been apart from him for too long to stay upset right now.
She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, to burp. She just had her breakfast," she added pointedly. "And I want mine, so you hold her, and gently," she stressed the word exaggeratedly, enjoying the moment, "pat her back until she burps."
She looked at his open arms and carefully positioned Daphne correctly on them. "Just hold her head, and you'll be fine," she said more softly. She planted a kiss on top of his head before turning to Noah briefly. "Eggs and bacon?"
Noah grinned. "Eggs and bacon!" He agreed.
Ezra received Daphne with a bit of hesitation, his excitement culled by Daniella's no-nonsense tone. He couldn't tell if she was angry with him or not.
"Oh," he said after a moment's pause. "Erm, alright."
The warmth of his daughter covered his chest, which was only a little bit tender from the bone and tissue regrowth. It didn't hurt, although she was a bit heavier than he'd expected. To think that something so small could be so solid…
Obediently, he placed his thin fingers tenderly in the thick of Daphne's hair. With the other hand, he patted at her back, so gently that he wasn't entirely sure he'd touched her at all.
Nothing happened. He watched the exchange between Ledger and his wife with mild interest. He still didn't have much of an appetite, but…
He was on thin ice already, as Muggles were so fond of saying.
After a few more pats, he looked down at his daughter cautiously.
"How long does this usually take?" he asked conversationally.
Daniella looked away from the pan briefly and offered him a smirk. "Hm, she needs a couple of minutes, usually, but it seems like she's enjoying the cushion."
Indeed, Daphne looked more interested in snuggling in and falling asleep than burping.
She was silent for a few minutes, fiddling around with the food. Pokey or Binky would probably be upset, later, but they were already taking turns looking over Daphne during the night, so Daniella only needed to wake up to feed her, so she figured she might as well make breakfast. Even if she had to do it without a wand.
When she was done, she took the food onto the table. Slightly annoyed by having to ask for assistance, she looked at Noah and pointed vaguely at the cabinets with the dishes. "Would you mind?"
Noah immediately took his wand and set the table for all four of them.
"I really need to go out and buy a new wand," Daniella muttered.
Daniella had only just finished telling her husband that the baby normally only needed a couple of minutes when Daphne decided that it was, indeed, time for her to burp. There was an odd sound by Ezra's ear that made him raise both eyebrows.
Had he done it?
"Well done," he told the baby with an air of solemnity. It took him a few moments to realize his shoulder was moist; he attempted to study the source of the wetness, but could not properly see while holding the baby.
Well, he supposed it was alright.
Daphne gurgled in what Ezra assumed was a happy manner. Growing a bit braver, he bounced her gently, cuddling their foreheads together.
"I have very high hopes for you," he told her, kissing the top of her impressively hairy head. "You are without a doubt the brightest, cutest baby I have ever seen."
She cooed, as though to say that Ezra was the best father that she'd ever seen, which didn't mean much in the scheme of things, but the thought was still appreciated.
Ezra's attention was drawn from his daughter by his wife's frustration, which he observed with raised eyebrows.
Her wand… he'd completely forgotten.
"I am sorry about your wand," he said genuinely. "Truly, I had meant to recover it."
He began shaking his leg very slightly, causing Daphne to bounce up and down, much to her apparent delight.
"Shall we go today?" he asked.
It was around that time that Josiah appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, looking unkempt but none the worse for wear.
"G'morning," the hazel-eyed boy greeted them. When he saw Ezra, though, he paused cautiously for a moment. "Did you run away?" he asked finally, looking at Dan sidelong.
Ezra rolled his eyes adeptly. His leg stopped bouncing, and Daphne made a grunty baby sound that spurred him into resuming the movement.
As Daniella pondered Ezra's suggestion, Noah raised his eyes from the plate he was generously serving and asked, "Weren't you supposed to be on bedres-" He swallowed the rest of the word, glancing quickly at Dan before focusing on his food again with incredible interest.
Daniella turned her head to give Ezra a questioning, interested look, but before she could make the question, Jo entered the kitchen.
"He's decided to make us a surprise," she explained Jo, still looking at her husband with great interest, still expecting something.
Ezra gave Noah a look so completely withering that it effectively hushed the larger boy mid-sentence. Had the other boy saved his life only to get him killed by his wife instead?!
"Light labor," he elaborated pointedly, his gaze flicking cautiously to Daniella and then away again. "Light labor and bed rest. I can handle a bit of walking, Ledger, thank you."
Josiah blinked sleepily at Daniella's explanation, too tired to probe any further.
"Well, that's nice, innit?" he said cheerfully, making his way over to the table and inhaling deeply. "I smell bacon…."
Ezra wasn't sure how he felt about that half-hearted defense, but he would take what he could get. He turned back to Daniella and smiled innocently.