Chapter 16: The Fear
Tarian missed his old bike. When he had first started working with the Watanabe brothers, he marveled at their enchanted Honda's. Having been a dismal failure at riding a broomstick, he thought be might feel more secure on something with handlebars, and he was right. After buying an old Ducati and fixing it up, along with enchanting the motor, he and the twins had been able to add high-speed getaways to their repertoire of tricks. Losing the bike in his chase from Mallory had been quite regrettable, especially now as he hung onto Takeo's jacket, faintly feeling the effects of the dementors as they followed.
The salty air of the bay soon filled their nostrils, and they had to roll to avoid the legs of the Golden Gate. Coming low to the dark water, they slowed and watched as the dementors descended upon the little island with a few sparse trees and a very recognizable dilapidated building sitting at the top. The single eye of the lighthouse spun around in the fog, doing nothing to improve macabre features of the abandoned prison known as Alcatraz. The dementors weren't doing anything to improve the mood either, instead instilling a fearful, cold atmosphere.
If he thought about it, the place made perfect sense to Tarian; it was out of the public eye, surrounded by fog and water, but still easily accessible to small water craft. In ensured accessibility as well as privacy. In fact, as they came to the dirt with a soft bump, Tarian could see a yacht tied beyond the docking building below them, three small figures exiting it, but he did not have time to pause as a jet of green light flew past his head.
Instinctively he dived to the dirt and gripped his wand, shooting a hex back the way the light had come from. The Watanabe's were up with their wands drawn as well, peering through the bleak fog, looking for the source of the curse. Two more jets of green were loosed, and Tarian dove to the side. This was ridiculous.
Thinking of the girls, he shouted, "Expecto Patronum!" The great shape of a bat burst forth, driving away much of the fog, and slowly revealing the imposing shape of Gertrude James. With a characteristic scowl on her face she expertly transfigured parts of the ground into sharp spikes rising swiftly enough to cleave a man in two, but was forced to stop as Takeo threw a particularly nasty bat bogey hex.
Daisuke leaped next to Tarian and grabbed his arm. "Go find the girls! Takeo and I have Gertrude covered!"
Tarian hesitated a moment He felt as though he was always leaving them. "We have this! Go!" Daisuke shouted and gave him a shove before throwing a shield up just in time to parry a curse aimed for his brother.
Turning away and vowing to make good use of their distraction, Tarian ran into the abandoned building. How was he supposed to find them? There were so many rooms, which could they be in? He paused. 'There must be a faster way through this,' he thought. He didn't want to keep running from room to room…
"Reducto!" he yelled at a wall, which crumpled with the force. Why go around the immense building like a rat in a cage when he could cut straight to the cheese?
After three more times of blasting through the wall he knew he had reached his destination with he heard crying and blast of red knocked him off his feet with the force of a stampeding bull. Smacking his back upon the ground he felt the air knocked out of him. The crying he heard was from Fern. He could recognize it as his addled brain came back to.
Blinking hard he rolled to the side and crouched behind the rubble, peering over to see a large room surrounded by prison cells on two levels. The girls were in the one on the far side of the room. A malicious voice called out, "Come back for round two of our duel?"
Madison stood in the middle of the room, the shadows from the grey day making her eyes look sunken, and her head skull-like. She made it clear that if he was to get to the three little girls, he would have to go through her. He wasn't a duelist, or even much of a fighter, but he would do what he needed to in order to get to them.
Springing up he shouted, "Petrificus Totalis!" and lunged forward, not looking to see if his curse had hit. Rolling to the side as her curse bruised the earth where he had been miliseconds before, he leaped behind a support beam for the second floor, his heart thumping in desperation and his breath coming in ragged gulps. Last time he had been saved by a surprise attack from Takeo. Now he only had himself.
"Shy little Tarian! You were so filled with anger before- where is that now? Why don't you come out and fight me like your parents would?!" Madison taunted, sending curses here and there, shaking the dilapidated building and causing pieces of it to crumble from the ceiling.
Tod ignored her. Looking about he tried to formulate a plan that would distract her momentarily so that he could release the girls to safety. He would have to do it immediately after she threw a curse, so that he could catch her before she could guard herself. Taking a couple deep breaths, he prepared himself.
Spinning to his right around the beam he yelled, "Expulso!"
Madison flew back, surprised, and Tarian took the moment to sprint to the other side of the large central prison room. As he approached the cell he breathlessly called, "Alohamora!"
The cell sprang open and the girls ran to him, holding tightly. He quickly took in their bruised wrists. They must have been tied. There was rope on the ground in the cell, but it was black. Hyacinth must have burned it. "Mr. Fishcher," they cried, hugging at his legs as he briefly embraced them before gently pushing them back to speak to them.
"Listen very carefully girls. I need to you to go back out through the walls I blasted. Daisuke and his brother Takeo will be there waiting for you. They're going to get you out of here. I'm going to keep this witch occupied so you can escape," he explained quickly in a low voice.
"Don't leave us Mr. Fischer, please don't," Fern said starting to cry again.
"Fern it's the only way I can make sure you all are safe. Don't look back, and don't worry about me. Now go!"
"DUCK!" screamed Hyacinth before they even got started, and Tarian immediately pushed all three of them to the ground, bright green jet coming so close to his body that he felt his t-shirt singe a little, the heat too close for comfort.
Ears buzzing, he came up onto his elbows, peaking over his shoulder at a furious Madison, struggling to stand from the curse that had knocked her back, and then back to the three little girls. Fern was so scared, new tears leaked from her eyes. Daisy's face was beginning to scrunch as she shook. Hyacinth was white as a sheet, eyes wide and full of terror.
No. Whether his life was in the balance or not, Tarian decided right there that no further harm would come to them. He had made his choices, poor though they might be. He was exceedingly expendable. These genuine, soulful, determined, fierce, joyful young girls deserved every opportunity to live out their lives, even if it meant the end of his. Had Mallory known how much he would love them? How fierce his desire would be to protect them? Surely, knowing these girls, she must have.
Standing slowly, he quietly commanded them. "Stay behind me. Alright?"
They nodded quickly, scared.
Turning, he faced Madison squarely. She was taking deep breaths, and her jacket must have been discarded in his blast, revealing a red tank-top underneath, along with strong, toned arms. "You! I am going to annihilate you!" How easily riled she was.
"Didn't you even wonder why Mallory chose me instead of the many Aurors she had at her disposal? Why I was your biggest road block, not MACUSA?"
She paused for a moment. A distant pop could be heard, and apparently the water system was breaking from all the damage of the curses. Great.
"Because she could black mail you!" she growled. "Because you're good enough at charms to be a little house wife."
Tarian smirked, but gripped his wand a little harder. "No. It was partly because I was smart, and she knew I had the resources to figure out your employer and her motivation. But there was another, much larger reason, that even she had come up against when she captured me. Something that even she could not match. Something you'll never be able to break."
Madison scowled at him and raised her wand, her anger ignited by the challenge. With a swift arm movement, she screeched, "Avada Kedavra!"
"Protego Maxima!" Tarian cried at the same time, the bright white jet from his wand meeting his opponent's bright green, shielding he and the girls. The green light continued to pour at them, but Tarian stood firm, the warmth of affection and protection filling his being instead of the usual desperation of not dying. It was ironic, how powerful his shield charm was now when he was not protecting himself, but those who stood behind him. But to his credit, it had been abnormally strong before; so much so that Mallory had been unable to best him, when he was captured, and she was, at the time, the most powerful witch in America.
His wand shook in his hand, bright light continuing to poor from it. Gritting his teeth, he looked up to see Madison faltering, confusion in her eyes. With a gentle pulse from his arm, the bright light overtook the green and while it did not have the explosive force of his curse from earlier, it did push Madison back several feet.
Panting, they stared at one another. "How…How did you…?" she chuffed.
"Even Mallory couldn't break my shield charm, and it is all the more powerful when protecting those I love," he paused, then continued, seeing movement behind her. "I may not be able to beat you in a straight duel, but you will never be able to defeat me with such poor spirit."
"That's what he has me for!" called a deep voice behind her. Madison turned to see a tall, handsome, blond wizard in a leather Auror jacket, wand raised at her in a menacing fashion. Behind him stood a tall, thin, Italian no-maj, who looked so relieved at seeing all three of the girls still alive and safe. Apparently, the popping noise had not been the water pipes.
"Daddy!" Daisy called, but Hyacinth held her back, hiding still behind the safety Tarian provided.
"Fine! You want to duel two at a time? I'll kill you both, and when the Silver Spears see that I've defeated two of the greatest wizards in this country, they will finally let me in!" she shrieked, a maddening lilt to her voice. "Incendio!" she shouted, and a stream of fire shot from her wand, writhing like a great snake aiming for Wyatt, who easily received it like a volley, wordlessly sending it back.
Tarain picked up the flames, turned them to water, and sent the forceful stream right at Madison who dove out of the way in time. From the earth she created spindles of thread, sending them toward Tarian while simultaneously turning and shouting a curse at Wyatt. Blocking the hex, Tarian pointed at the debris now stacked on the ground and called, "Oppungo!"
The debris flew toward Madison. Dodging it at the last moment, she threw another curse at Tarian who blocked it with ease. Wyatt threw a jet of water from his wand, just as Tarian threw wind from his, in a strong and silent Ventus jinx. Working together, both brothers trapped Madison in a bubble. Repeatedly she used flames to try and escape, but it was futile. Coming in close, the brothers locked eyes, and Tarian could easily read the plan there. With a curt nod, both ceased their jinxes, while Tarian instantly hollered, "Expelliarmus!" followed swiftly by his brother's, "Locomotor Mortis!"
Madison dropped to the ground, disarmed and unable to get up and run away. Pulling the same magical handcuffs that had been used on his brother, Wyatt roughly pulled the witches arms behind her back, locking them so that she could no longer do any damage.
An awkward silence ensued, broken only by Wyatt standing up from the cuffs and looking at his brother. "That was a really powerful shield charm," he said, trying to complement him, but looking rather ill-at-ease. Tarian understood; the last time they had seen one another, Wyatt had basically sentenced him to death.
"Thanks," he smirked, the younger brother in him still enjoying the elder's occasional discomfort.
"Daddy!" the girls cried as David ran at them, instantly picking up Daisy, Fern and Hyacinth hugging his middle.
"I don't know how you did it," Wyatt admitted. "Three little girls are so exhausting. Only Daisy really reminded me of Mallory."
Hyacinth, after few moments of her father's embrace, left and walked the couple of feet over to Tarian, gripping his t-shirt and burying her face in it. Tarian put a hand on her back, the warm feeling inside filling him with the sort of glow he had never known. Casting a meaningful look over to his brother, he said, "Every kid is an individual. You just need to get to know them, to figure out what they need in life."
Wyatt smiled and looked down at his quarry, having gotten the message. For her part, Madison was rocking back and forth, silently crying.
In an instant, the happy reunion was over. With the other two adults distracted by the witch or the children, only Tarian, who was so used to being perceptive, even in his most relaxed state saw the little family of three enter from the blasted hole in the wall. The woman did not look pleased, and silently lifted something black and metal, aiming for Hyacinth, still pressed against his torso.
"No!" he shouted, using his hands to shove Hyacinth behind him in the nick of time. Three shots rang out, and with the distance of the room, two missed. The third, however sent searing pain up from his right hip, and he heard an involuntary cry leave his lips. The pain sent him to his knees. There was warmth beginning to flow down one leg. He hadn't brought any dittany.
Wyatt spun to raise his wand but was cut short as the tall man in the nice suit yelled, "Stop! My wife can surely shoot you faster than you can spit out the name of the spell!" Pausing, Wyatt looked torn.
"Now, you will move so that we can get rid of the last of the Graves' and relieve the curse on our son," the woman said, striding into the room as if she owned it, but never taking her gun off David, who now stood in front of the three girls.
Wyatt looked at a loss. "What curse…"
Taking a deep breath and shoving his pain away, Tarian weakly stood, clutching his side. He willed himself to focus on the woman in front of him. "He's not cursed. Whatever you believe Percival Graves did to your family, he didn't. You only believe that wizards and witches are evil because you're the descendent of a bad one called a Scourer."
"I would shut it if I were you," the woman warned, shifting the gun to Tarian. "The Shaws were never like your kind!"
He continued, "But the Barebones were. They descended from a powerful scourer who hated the wizarding community for exiling him for his dark deeds and lawlessness. He made sure that his descendants would enact the revenge he wanted! He selected for no-maj's to carry this out, knowing that wizards feared their own kind being exposed, especially after the Salem witch trials. That's why he founded the Second Salemers. He wanted revenge for being brought so low, and he used his no-maj kin to do it! But that's the thing about magic; it's not always predictable. Your son isn't cursed at all. He has magic."
"Mommy make him be quiet," the boy sniffled, looking to be about Hyacinth's age. He had his mother's blond hair, but he looked exhausted, as if he were in some horrendous battle for ages. Tarian figured that in a way, he had been.
"Dustin doesn't have magic," her husband chimed in. "He's frail."
"A frail boy who destroys half your house when he's upset? A frail boy who you can't take in public because if he lets loose, you're afraid people will die? A frail boy who you have to have tutors for because he can't attend school since he's so unstable? Day in and day out you threaten and cajole him to keep those powers in him locked up tight, blackmailing him with your love, because you can't love him if he's a monster! You-"
"Shut up!" Victoria screeched. "He's my boy! And I would do anything to cure him! I love him!"
"Yes, you love him enough to kill three innocent little girls who know nothing about your family and the terrible things you've done." He paused. "Your son isn't cursed at all. It's your fear of magic, your fear of him that's caused all of this!"
Victoria shot the gun with shaking hands, unwilling to believe anything the man had said. It missed, and Wyatt took the opportunity of her distraction. He raised his wand and shouted, "Expulso!" sending the woman flying through the air. Landing hard onto the cement, she did not move.
Dustin and his father ran to her, Dustin shaking her shoulders and crying. Wyatt raised his wand again but Tarian stepped in front. "Stop," he demanded. "He's becoming an Obscurial. We need to not upset him, and get him a healer. They'll be able to reverse the process."
Turning, he saw the nightmare he dreaded forming.
"Dustin. Dustin no. Keep that inside son," his father pleaded, but his face betrayed the horror of what was happening. The boy seemed to be disintegrating into darkness before them, tendrils of black curling with energy and poised to reach out and destroy anything they touched. It seemed to curl up like a snake ready to strike.
"Move!" Tarian shouted to them, throwing up his shield charm and watching the horrific scene as the father was thrown back into the support pillar. Dustin exploded in a furious cloud of black. Bouncing here and there, ripping apart the inside of the prison, destruction rained down upon the others. Wyatt pushed away any of the large pieces of metal and rock to protect the family behind them, along with their prisoner, while Tarian's shield held off the onslaught of the beast as it came around.
"Dustin! Dustin, listen!" Tarian shouted above the din of twisting metal. "Please listen to me! I know you're hurting!"
The black, greasy cloud paused in it's destruction of the room and hovered in the center. A pair of white eyes could be made out in the center. Slowly, so as to not upset him, Tarian lowered his wand and relinquished his shield. "I know they said terrible things to you to make you scared of your own power. You're a very gifted boy Dustin, and just because you're different doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you," he said, slowly approaching the shifting beast. It seemed to be listening. "I know what it's like to have parents who want you to be something different. It hurts doesn't it? Not being who you were meant to be? It doesn't have to be that way though. I know you love them, and I think in their own way, they love you. They just need to learn who you really are. Let me help you learn to control what's inside you. You don't need to be scared of it."
A sudden bang made him jump, and another fire bloomed from within him, this time in his right breast. He could taste copper, and heard a scuffle behind him, but if he stopped now, Dustin would kill them all. "I know it seems scary doing something new, but magic isn't what your parents told you. It's harnessing the power inside us and putting it to use, to make the world better. I know all you've seen…seen are curses and destruction…but we…we can do good things too," he said, tasting copper in his mouth and unable to draw a full breath of air. Raising his wand, which seemed to take colossal effort, he concentrated on the spell, and watched with bleary eyes as several beautiful, shining butterflies floated from the end of his wand, flapping their wings lazily about the obscurus.
Ever so slowly, the obscurus withdrew, becoming a small blond boy once again. "Are you sure I'll be able to do stuff like that?" he asked in a small voice.
"If I…can do it, you…surely can," Tarian said, falling to his knees and coughing harshly, peppering the cement with blood.
"Tarian!" Wyatt called, rushing to catch his brother as he collapsed to the side.
From the corner of his failing vision he saw Victoria apprehended in the same fashion as Madison, as well as Rufus Cartier. He could hear more ruckus as shouts came from a source he could not identify. Fighting the pain and fatigue, he glanced further up to see the Wilson family running for him, all three girls alive and mostly unharmed. A peace fell over him. He had done everything he could. The threat was averted. His girls were safe.
"Brother…brother no…" Wyatt cried, and Tarian was surprised to have forgotten that his brother was holding him. Why was Wyatt crying? It was so hard to breathe. Everything hurt. He felt so cold, and he couldn't stop shaking. His mouth was filling up with something metallic. "Tarian, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything," Wyatt confessed. What was he sorry for? Everything hurt. He was so tired. He needed to go. "Hold on Tarian, I'm going to try and get you help. Just hold on for me…"
But Tarian could not, and his eyes slipped close.
Wyatt decided he hated the color mauve. Mauve and dark green. Why they had to make hospital wards that color was beyond him. It also did nothing for the paleness of the sick and dying, especially the one in the bed before him.
St. Ignacius's was modelled after St. Mungo's in England, like a lot of things in America. It had several floors and many wards, and in his time as an Auror, Wyatt had visited the occasional colleague or victim in it's famed halls. He had gone to school with many of the healers, most of them being from the Puckwudgie house, and had great faith in their healing abilities. It was funny that as a child, his parents had a few scrapes here and there when it came to being Aurors, and he never doubted that the healers of St. Ignacius would have them back on their feet in no time at all. Even the friends who had run into trouble on the job, he worried little about as far as being able to ever step foot outside the hospital again.
This was different. It was his little brother. The brother who would come find Wyatt when he was scared, who would play inside with him on rainy days, and was his shadow for many years of his life. While Tarian had never been one to idolize his brother, he had relied on him to be a union steward for him when their parents would argue with him and vice-versa. Wyatt was caught in the middle of his parents, who expected so much from Tarian, and his little brother, who just wanted to be loved and understood for who he was. So, Wyatt did his best to live up to his parents' expectation for the both of them, while still encouraging his brother as best he could. That was, until he was forced to take sides, and apparently had chosen wrong. He would regret it the rest of his life.
Wyatt had been sitting and holding his brother's cool hand for many hours after finally being allowed to see him. He could still recall the chaos of when he had apparated them. The witches pulling the limp body from his arms, casting spells and pulling potions from their robes as they levitated him to the first floor to stabilize him. Wyatt remembered watching him go, an enchanted mop coming by soon after and cleaning up the blood all over the hallway floor. His brother's blood. Once stabilized enough, he was moved to the third floor for potions gone wrong and poisonous plant injuries, as the healers had quickly determined that the no-maj bullets that had struck Tarian weren't just that; they had been washed in a potion that slowed healing. Wyatt knew it must have been Gertrude James who had helped the no-maj with that. She must have wanted to make sure that even if she shot a wizard, they would not be able to easily heal themselves with a few drops of dittany.
Tarian's breathing had been so shallow when Wyatt first walked in, that he could have swore his brother had already passed on, and they had simply given him some time to grieve with the corpse. Other healers milled about, checking patients nearby. One young witch stopped in to check the wrapping on Tarian's chest, allowing Wyatt to see the unicorn hair on the inside of it, stained bright red with blood. The healer had then changed the one just above Tarian's right hip, levitating him to make it easy. Wyatt could see all the little marks and scars earned from years in the guild, how slim Tarian's body was, and another wave of guilt crashed over him.
"He's very lucky you got him here in time," the witch said, her brown hair tied up and her expressive eyes filled with compassion.
"If he was lucky, he wouldn't be here," Wyatt croaked.
Ignoring his self pity the witch offered, "Would you like some clean robes? I can sit here with him for a bit if you would like to change. I don't have to check my next patient for another few minutes."
Looking down at his shirt and leather jacket, he could feel and see the dark crimson that had soaked in, but he didn't want to take it off. It was part of his brother, and he just couldn't.
Thus, Wyatt had politely declined, content to sit and simply hold his brother's hand, willing him to live. Sure, the healers had told him that he was lucky to have made it in with all the bleeding, so much so that his lungs were drowning in it from the wound in his chest, but after working all their magic, he was still hanging on by a thread. The healers came by and checked his vitals every hour, but there was nothing else to do except hope that the unicorn hair would purify the wounds, and the blood loss didn't take him. He briefly considered letting their parents know, but then decided it would do more harm than good if Tarian woke up.
Concentrating on not falling asleep, Wyatt took in his brother's face, pale with dark shadows under his eyes, a straight nose and high cheek bones. His black hair took after their mother, and he knew from the constant comparisons when they were children that their eye color was the exact same shade of cerulean. Occasionally a flicker of pain would cross his face, and Wyatt would hold his hand a bit tighter.
The witch from before eventually came back, rechecked the bandages in bleak hours of the night, and even brought Wyatt a blanket. Wyatt found himself dozing at times, and it was during one of these moments that he heard a familiar voice say, "Girls slow down. You shouldn't run in a hospital!"
No sooner had the sentence finished when a girl of about nine popped her head through the curtain and then back out to whisper harshly, "Over here!" After, she approached the bedside of Tarian, studying him before looking at Wyatt.
The other Wilson's joined her in the space as Hyacinth asked, "Is he going to make it?"
Wyatt was unsure of how to answer, his sleep deprived brain trying to work out the best words. "The healers have done everything they can. They're hopeful that he'll recover."
"Cold," Daisy said, reaching up onto the bed and holding Tarian's other hand.
"Sorry it took us so long to get here," David said grabbing a few chairs and pulling them into Tarian's curtained space. "We didn't know where this place was, and we had to beg them to take us here. Then, visiting hours didn't start till a little bit ago. I'm sure it was a long night for you. How are you holding up?"
Wyatt shrugged and looked down at his soiled clothes, as if they answered the question.
"Didn't want to leave him, huh?" David said, an empathetic smile on his face. It was then that Wyatt recalled that the man had likely spent hours like this in a human hospital, watching his wife die from a curse. Of course he understood what Wyatt was going through. "You'll probably feel better if you get cleaned up. We can stay here and keep Tarian company in case he wakes up. That way he's with someone he knows," David offered.
"Do I really look that bad?" Wyatt asked.
"Yes," Hyacinth deadpanned.
Wyatt and the rest of the family chuckled, and he stood. "Alright. I'll be back in a little bit. I'm just going to shower and get something to eat."
True to his word, Wyatt was gone for a grand total of half an hour, and he came back finishing the breakfast sandwich he'd grabbed from the cafeteria on the top floor to find the family and Tarian waiting for him.
Quickly forgetting his breakfast on the night stand he rushed to reclaim his seat, taking a cool, clammy hand in his own, as blue eyes watched him with exhaustion and a touch of mirth.
"How are you feeling?" he inquired, keeping his voice low.
"As I just got finished…telling the girls…I feel…like I've been hexed…a few too many times…and then…been given…too much…firewhiskey…"Tarian answered, having to pause and take breaths during the sentences, as if he were running at top speed and trying to speak.
"Yeah, I imagine you do," Wyatt sighed in relief.
"What's firewhiskey?" Fern asked.
"Something you get to drink when you're older probably," David answered.
Weakly, Tarian moved his elbows back to try and sit up, and both Wyatt and David jumped up to help him. "Thanks…" he mumbled, trying to catch his breath once they had finished. "Are Takeo…and Daisuke… ok?...And…Dustin?"
Wyatt shrugged, "I apparated you here, and no one has given me and update. I didn't leave you until David and the girls got here, and it was just to shower and eat." He didn't want to mention how much of his brother's blood had poured off in the shower.
"The kid my age is ok," Hyacinth said, propping herself up onto the edge of the bed and swinging her legs. "Some witches in green robes came and took him somewhere. His parents got taken by a couple of you people," she answered, nodding to Wyatt.
"The twins are ok too," David addressed. "Last I saw they were handing over the other witch to the Aurors as well. They had a couple cuts, but they seemed mostly fine."
Tarian nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. Wyatt watched his eyes become unfocused. "Someone's tired."
Blinking himself awake again, a flash of discomfort crossed his face and he lifted a hand to touch the wound on his right breast. "How…?" he inquired, looking at Wyatt, but it was David who answered.
"That crazy lady shot you again. I think she was scared of what you were doing with her son, so when she came to, she grabbed the gun and shot you. I managed to tackle her right after, and Wyatt put her in handcuffs."
The idea of David tackling anyone was amusing. Satisfied, Tarian leaned back and closed his eyes. "We'll be here when you wake up. Get some sleep brother," Wyatt encouraged, patting his hand.
Shortly after he had fallen asleep, a different healer came in to check the bandages, and David took that as an opportunity to stand, stretch and then cajole the girls to go up to the gift shop to get something to eat and take a break.
When the curtain flaps parted again, Wyatt turned to greet David and found that it was not the Wilsons at all. A witch and wizard stood awkwardly in brown Auror jackets, both appearing to be in their 60's, or at least approaching it. The wizard was tall and masculine, his blond hair peppered with grey, and his square jaw clean shaven. His blue eyes were beginning to be encroached by wrinkles, but they were not the smiling kind. The witch was shorter and stiffer, her black hair tied tightly into a bun, her thin lips pursed in concern. It was she who spoke first to break the tense air. "Someone told us you were in the hospital dear, and we rushed here to make sure you were alright."
A mixture of feelings welled in Wyatt, once again caught between loyalty to his parents and job, and the familial love for his brother. He recalled what Tarian had told the obscurial to calm it; how Tarian had not been loved by his own family, and how they had always tried to make him something that he was not, and his heart panged with guilt. More than anything he wished to get up and physically shield his brother from the two people who had hurt him so much, as only a big brother with strong protective instincts could.
"I'm fine," he answered, keeping his voice level. "Tarian saved us all from the obscurial. He figured out the puzzle that Mallory couldn't."
Mr. Fischer cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. "How is he?"
Wyatt looked over at his brother's pale face, and back to the witch and wizard. "Lucky to be alive. He was shot twice with a no-maj weapon protecting the me and the last of the Graves'. I thought he was going to die in my arms, but so far he's hanging on."
The pair nodded and looked about, the tension in the small area palpable. For years Wyatt had always supported his parents, been just like them, but everything had shifted now, and his parents seemed to realize it as well. Just as Wyatt was going to ask them to leave, the flap opened again and three little girls bounded through and hopped onto the bed, effectively waking Tarian.
"Girls! Mr. Fischer needs his rest! He is still quite hurt!" David exclaimed, trying to calm them, not seeming to notice the pair at the corner of the bed.
"But we wanted to show him what we got him, so he'll feel better," Fern explained.
"Feel better!" Daisy echoed, bouncing at the foot of the bed.
Not seeming to have noticed the pair either, Tarian woke with the clamor and smiled at the girls, "What did you…bring me?"
"We got you this," Hyacinth told him, holding out a white stuffed animal bat. "It's just like the one you made to scare away those monsters! And watch, it can do this!" She gave the bat a hard throw, and it squeaked, and batted its wings like a real bat, gave one loop around the curtained off area and back into her hands. In it's loop, Tarian finally noticed the newcomers and froze for a second, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Do you like it?" Fern asked.
Tarian shifted his gaze to her and smiled softly. "I…love it. It's…perfect. Thank-you."
Fern grinned and held his hand, sitting on the edge of the bed, while Hyacinth laid her head down on his left shoulder. Daisy sat herself as his feet, flipping through the book of moving pictures that Tarian assumed they had gotten from the gift shop. "You're all cold," Hyacinth complained.
"I don't have…much blood left," Tarian winced, and his eyes flicked back up to the duo at the end of his bed, silently asking what they wanted.
David must have followed his gaze, noticing the pair. "I'm so sorry I didn't introduce myself! I'm David Wilson, Mallory's husband, and these are our girls, Fern, Hyacinth, and Daisy," he said holding out his hand.
"Wilhelm Fischer, and my wife, Bridget," the wizard said, clasping his hand, his face a jumble of confusion.
"These are our parents," Wyatt elaborated.
David gave a gracious smile, "You must be so proud of your boys, especially Tarian. He's taken care of the girls so well and they absolutely love him. He's so smart and strong we don't know how we would have made it without him. Thank-you for lending him to us. He's been invaluable."
The older gentleman looked as though he had swallowed something gross. Clearing his throat he muttered, "Yes of course. Seeing that you're on the mend, we'll take our leave. Bridget?"
" I'm sure you have paperwork from this mess. Why don't you head into the office with us?" she inquired, looking to Wyatt.
Wyatt frowned, having made his choice when his brother's blood had soaked into his clothes and his seemingly last breaths had been taken in the elder's arms.
"I'm right where I need to be," he said firmly, sure his parents would realize the length of those words eventually.
"Very well then," Wilhelm said, steering his wife from the crowded bedside.
"Your parents are weird," Hyacinth spat.
"They didn't even ask if you were ok," Fern sniffled.
"Weird," Daisy echoed, her swinging legs gently bumping the nightstand.
"It's alright girls," David chided gently. "Every family is different."
Wyatt let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, feeling the tension rush out of his shoulders and spine. A cool hand slid into his, and he glanced at his brother. While still a sickly pale, he looked far more at peace. Peering and eye open to look at the blond wizard, he whispered, "Thank-you."