WHO: Derek Dobbs & Meredith Fielding
WHAT: Inpromptu and accidental hospital visits!
WHEN: Saturday afternoon
WHERE: St. Mungo's

Well, if there was anywhere that Meredith had expected to spend the last few weeks of her summer vacation, it was not here.

As she walked the halls, arms crossed over her chest and the aimlessness of her journey all but evident, her eyes scanned the too-white walls of the hospital. Her nose scrunched every so often at the sterile smell of the place, and every now and then her shoulders tensed with the sound of a patient getting sick in a room she passed. No, St. Mungo's was certainly not her first choice to be spending time at, but that's what happened when your mother's very favorite brother decided to go and fall off the broomstick he was far too old to be riding. Not that Meredith had no pity for her poor uncle, but honestly, why did she have to be here all the time as well?

The only thing she could think of to do to wile away the time seemed to be walking around the hallway like this, and as riveting a task as it was, she was growing very tired of it altogether. On each lap up and down, she had assigned herself a different task--counting the number of sleeping drafts on carts, counting the number of rooms, counting how many times the same healer ran in and out of one---and now she had found that she was down to memorizing names by the doors. That should take four or five rounds at least, she thought, and on the turn of a heel went about her job. Capper, Marsh, McBride... Quigley, Graves... Chambers, Peasegood, Dobbs... Jones, Fancourt----Dobbs?

With the numbed state that her mind was in, Meredith didn't stop right away at that familiar name, but she now halted abruptly and backtracked a few steps to peer, rather unashamedly, into the room with the offending nametag. And there he was, all---well, she didn't know how to say it better than that he looked like hell. And she didn't know why it surprised her so much, or why her feet pulled her to the doorway, but before she could protest, Meredith was there and staring over at her recent enemy in shock, and maybe a bit of perplexing upset.

"What in the hell happened to you?" she mumbled out pathetically.

Derek had been drugged and potioned nearly to the point of unconsciousness for the past few days. He was well aware of the fact that the job description included his own bed at St. Mungo's for these very reasons, but he hated whenever he had to use it. He hated feeling useless, he hated feeling weak, and he hated hospitals and wards of any sort. Derek also hated the period between the uncomfortable unconsciousness and the discharge. The Healers had been patient enough with him, which made him feel all the worse.

He wasn't sure what the big deal was about broken ribs and internal bleeding and curses anyway. A nice cocktail of Skelegrow and a few other potions, and he'd be right as rain.

Not that the Healers found any sense in his logic.

Derek shifted his neck back and forth, trying to get comfortable. He couldn't wait til he got out of here.

But he couldn't quite believe his eyes when he saw a very blonde, very familiar, very welcome face, for that matter, and his face broke into a pretty weak imitation of his normal smile, but he thought given the circumstances it worked pretty well.

"What are you doing here?"

Meredith took another couple of steps into the room, tentatively, just to get a closer look at him. She instantly wished that she hadn't. If it was possible, he looked even worse from here than he did from back there---even in his smile, she could tell that he was messed up, like he'd been run over by a stampede of angry centaurs or something. Of all the people she knew, for some reason Derek Dobbs was the last person that she ever tought she'd see all banged up like this in St. Mungo's, and she still hadn't gotten over the surprise even as her feet took her involuntarily closer to his bed.

"What happened?" she repeated, unable to think hard enough to answer his question. Besides, she had asked first. "I mean... are you okay?"

Wow, that had sounded gloriously intelligent.

He laughed, which he quickly regretted, given his ribs being strapped in place. Closing his eyes briefly, he opened them and flashed her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine. I'm good, actually. I'm not the picture of health at the moment, but give me a little while to get there."

It wasn't exactly a lie, but it was a little better than telling her exactly what was broken and what was fractured and how his back looked like a hippogryff had trampled it.

It suddenly dawned on him who exactly was here and where exactly "here" was.

"Wait, Meredith, you haven't--you're not--you're okay, right?" Derek asked anxiously, trying to scrutizine her appearance as best he could in his current condition.

He was way too concerned, but his brain wasn't quite clear from the haze the potion that knocked him out had left him with.

Meredith's eyes widened with incredulity as he asked his question. That was so--she couldn't imagine why he was asking her that when he was all laid up in a sickbed, and she couldn't imagine why he had that tone of voice anyway, because maybe she was reading too far into things, but---

But whatever. Whatever she was hearing probably had a lot to do with all the pain potions they undoubtedly had him dosed up on.

She crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at him in annoyance. "I cannot believe you just asked me that," she scoffed. It was surprisingly more difficult than she had imagined it should be to maintain a sense of calm, looking at him like that. "You look like bloody murder and here you are asking me if I'm okay. Good Merlin, Dobbs."

He struggled to sit up properly, giving her a digusted look. "I do not look like murder, and I'm asking you if you are all right because you're in a hospital ward! It's not exactly the ideal place I imagined our next meeting in."

Giving his pillow a disgusted look as he tried in vain to make himself comfortable, he looked at her with a furrowed brow. "No, really, though, why are you here?"

Concern. It was the typical concern one might feel upon the sudden knowledge that an acquaintence (friend?) was in a place where the sick and dead often frequented, that was all.

And he didn't want to talk about his broken ribs and cursed infection and all the gory details about himself. That part was very true.

Meredith winced as he attempted to sit up, imagining that the action couldn't be completely painless. She didn't even know what was wrong with him, but he did look like murder, as much as he wanted to say he didn't, and she couldn't help but wonder how in the world moving around was helping him feel any better. She was so wrapped up in wondering if he had any broken bones he was agitating that she didn't even notice the concern when he spoke the second time around.

"My idiot uncle fell off a broom when he shouldn't have been flying in the first place," she conceded finally. Honestly, Meredith could have handled being a little more annoying and pestered him a bit more, but if it was his undying concern for her health making him sit up, she would have rather placated him. "Do I look like I need to be here? ... No wait, don't answer that." She had forgotten for a moment, it seemed, who she was talking to.

Carefully, she closed the remaining distance between them and stood next to his bed. "Now really, why are you here? Did you trip over that enormous ego of yours and fall down a flight of stairs?"

He sighed. Obviously, it was inevitable that she was going to want to know what happened to him, and why exactly he was a mangled body strapped up in a bed, but he felt super uncomfortable telling her.

"Job hazard," he said gravely, quirking his eyebrow at her. "Long story short, I needed to buy my partner some extra time, so I bravely threw myself between him and some oncoming spells. In hindsight, I probably should've let the smarmy git field 'em, but what can I say?" he grinned, "I'm a sap."

Derek paused, awkwardly fiddling with the bedding before shifting his gaze to the floor beside her feet, determinedly not looking at her. "I'm sorry about your idiot uncle, though. Stupid or not, that still must be terrible. Family visit?" he asked, finally looking up at her.

He was curious about her family, well, curious about her-- but they'd never had a civil enough conversation in which such information might be divulged.

Even if Derek had been meeting her eyes, he wouldn't have found them there. Meredith was, in fact, staring at the exact same spot of floor that he seemed to be staring at, right underneath where she stood. At his explanation, she wasn't certain that she could look at him. Job hazard, he'd said, and those simple words sent shivers down her spine. He didn't even have to say any more after that, she already understood, and for some reason far beyond her, she felt terribly guilty.

"Oh, well that--" Meredith's words stuck in her throat and she pursed her lips for a moment to get herself back together. Even if she didn't know what she wanted to say in the first place. "That's very---brave of you."

Once again, she could have smacked herself for how absolutely eloquent she was being at the moment, but for now she could hardly understand the way that she was reacting to this revelation. Of course she knew hitwizards put themselves in harm's way just like an auror would, that they got hurt and messed up and ended up in St. Mungo's for their bravery, but it was so difficult to allow it to be put into perspective like this. She may not have liked him, but she knew Derek and here he was, all---oh, for the love of Christ, this kind of emotional shock could not be healthy.

She was thankful when he turned the conversation to her, giving her something lighter to think about. "I wouldn't call it so much of a visit as a constant vigil over his bedside," she said, but the sarcasm that she felt was not there. "My mum hasn't left since he got here, and if I don't check in on her every so often she'll just get so into taking care of him that she'll forget to take care of herself. So... yeah, I was just wandering around, stretching my legs for a while."

Whatever grievances he'd given her before, he had to admit that she was certainly responsible enough when the occasion called for it. "That's rough," he said, wishing he could ruffle his hair or fidget in a manner that wasn't painful, or something so he didn't feel so awkward. "Is he doing okay, your uncle? I've fallen off a broom more times than I can count, it's usually pretty nasty. I mean, if he's staying here more than a day, it must be pretty b--" what the hell was he doing? That was definitely a way to make a girl feel at ease about her uncle laid up on a sick bed, potentially looking as scary as Derek did. Nice going, Dobbs, he told himself with a slight eyeroll. "But I'm sure he'll be fine in no time, given that we've got the best Healer staff in the whole bloody world."

He shot her as mischievous a look as he could manage.

Derek paused. "Why did you--how'd you find me? Just--just wandering, I suppose? I mean, since you said you were stretching your legs and all--"

The moment the first syllables came out, he regretted the question, but he just kept blithering on. Why on earth would she come see him?

He dropped his eyes immediately. "You know, it--it does-- it's just nice to see your face."

Meredith nodded along in time with the things that he said about her uncle, although she knew that had she been in a less sullen mood at the state of her frie---no, not friend... but could she really have the gall to call him her enemy like this? No, her---whatever, Derek, if she had been in a less sullen mood at the state of Derek, she might have been annoyed that he could think of how tough her situation must be. This man was really rallying up the points for being annoyingly selfless in a very short time, it seemed.

She was so immersed in her own thoughts that she barely noticed when the topic of conversation changed, but one thing that he said stood out so harshly that Meredith's eyes shot up to his face before she could even fully comprehend what he had said.

It's just nice to see your face. It was probably completely---innocent, but she felt heat rise in her cheeks nonetheless. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? And since when had he ever said nice--dare she think it, sweet--things like that? Forget that she'd only met him thrice; what had happened to the jackass persona that she was so familiar with? "Oh, well---he's down the hall and--I saw the room, and I---I didn't mean to poke in, I was just curious, you know---if it was you."

Meredith laughed nervously, and she nearly cringed at how forced it sounded. "I guess I never thought about it, you know, hitwizards and--" She motioned to him--his injuries--with a hand, not sure how to phrase the end of her sentence.

He grinned lopsidedly. "Well, believe me, if I had paid attention to the fine print, I doubt I would have been so eager to join up." He smiled nostalgically at memories of his training (he could say "nostalgically" now that it had been over and done with for a few years). "It's not-- it's not so bad, though. I love my job, I wouldn't trade it for the world. 'S dangerous, of course, but what exciting and fun job isn't, eh?" He laughed.

Derek couldn't help but notice her cheeks flame slightly and he wondered whether it was the drugs, the sleepiness, or a really genuine happiness to see this girl that made him say that. Moreover, he wondered how she took it, and he realized she was a lot nicer than she had to be right now. Given their past behavior (more correctly, his past behavior), he wouldn't have blamed her at all if she had taken one look at him being in this room, laughed, and flounced off. He probably wouldn't have had much to say if she had laughed at him before leaving, either.

He was awfully glad she didn't, though.

Well, awfully glad she didn't leave.

But he was enough of himself to realize he probably looked terrible, and he couldn't help but be sheepishly apologetic for his appearance.

"Bet you're glad I'm not in my puce robes today, though, eh? I think even the staff had enough of that color."

The laugh that escaped her lips then, completely unbidden, was a stark contrast from the forced one before. It was short, but light and genuine. "Well, thank Merlin someone finally forced you to stay out of them," she said with the tiniest smirk. Teasingly, she glanced down at the hospital garb patients wore and scrunched her nose. "I can't say that I'd call all of this designer, but the healers seem to be at least a step above the Ministry. You should give your gratitude to the nurse next time you see her."

Meredith paused for a moment, and glanced into the door, and then back to Derek. It wasn't like her mother was going to come looking for her any time soon--had probably forgotten she was there, honestly--but she did wonder if she was completely alright to leave her for too long. And if she was completely alright to be there in that particular room. Would she get in trouble if someone passed by and saw that she was keeping their patient up? After all, he did look like he shouldn't really be up and talking.

She bit her lip for a moment. Surprisingly, she didn't want to leave; but she felt rather guilty staying only for her benefit when he was looking like death and all.

"Look, you could probably use to get some sleep right about now," she finally said, smiling just barely. "I'll get out of your hair so you can get back resting, I just--well, like I said, I was just curious."

There wasn't a good explanation for the way he suddenly felt embarrassed, disappointed, and a little sad. There actually wasn't a good explanation for it at all. He shouldn't have been surprised, and he definitely didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And he had thought when he made her laugh that maybe--maybe-- they'd be a little less uncomfortable with each other.

Regardless... it had been a nice sound.

He fidgeted as his words tripped over one another in the rush to get out. "No, that's fine-- I--you're not in my hair, or anything, it was--nice, to see you, but if you've got to--to go, then yeah, obviously, you should, you should just--go."

What was going on with him? Derek thought he'd have to chock this crazy, irrational behavior up to medicinal potion properties, because he definitely didn't act like this on a daily basis.

He dropped his head and stared at the ceiling, his voice and his face strangely blank. "Thank you for coming to see me. It means a lot, my Meredith."

"Oh no, I didn't have anywhere to go, I--!"

It was so unfortunate that she was so many words into her sentence before Meredith could get control of her mouth and tell it to stop speaking all hurried and weird. It was just that she had no idea what to say to that, that he didn't seem to want her to leave--or really how to react in general, actually.

Who was she kidding, she didn't know how to react to this whole bloody situation. It was so different from all the yelling and tackling that they were so good at doing normally, and Meredith wasn't completely sure that it was any easier. If anything, it probably would have been easier if he could have just started acting like an asshole again, give her something to be pissed off at. But he was exactly the opposite, he was laying there all... blank, and even when he said that terrible possessive name that annoyed her so much, she couldn't even muster up a scoff.

Actually, it sort of made her feel... sad.

Meredith frowned, and without thinking, she moved to sit on the side of the bed, watching his face. "I don't have to be anywhere, I just thought you'd want to--sleep, or something. I can stay and---I don't know, I can stay and talk--if you want, I mean."

Strangely enough, he now felt guilty. Obviously, this was difficult on her (not that he fancied that seeing him like this was particularly difficult for her, but the whole situation: being at the hospital, her uncle, seeing someone she knew bandaged and drugged and generally incapacitated), and he wasn't entirely sure that it wasn't very selfish of him to want her to stay when she might have very plainly been making an escape. But he'd been here for too many days as it was, and with hardly a familiar face like hers (was it familiar?) to see, it was...

It was really nice.

But that wasn't the point, he shouldn't make her stay if she didn't want to, and it was some kind of weird dependency the drugs were giving Derek, no doubt. Obviously he couldn't really mean what he was thinking, he'd only seen the girl (and she was just that, a girl) a few times prior to this, and it would be simply ridiculous to admit that he had some sort of hold over her now. It was ridiculous, wasn't it?

At any rate, he shouldn't want her to stay. Derek felt like it would only be pity he'd get from her, and while that would still feel wonderful, it wasn't fair to her.

"You don't have to," he said softly, smiling as gently, genuinely as he could muster his sore facial muscles. "It was nice of you to come, accident or not, but if your mother needs you... or if it's too uncomfortable to stay, I understand. In fact, the idea of you seeing me like this is making me grimace slightly--not up to my usual standard at all." He laughed briefly.

"I would understand, though," he said, in all seriousness.

"I want to, alright?"

Meredith all but glared at him, wishing he's just get---the point and stop acting like he had to give her some kind of escape. As unintentional as it had been, she had thought that when she had said she should leave it had sounded reluctant enough to give him the general idea. Apparently not, though, because now he was looking all guilty and ridiculous. You didn't bloody sit down if you were trying to make a run for it, honestly!

"I'm not going to leave, if that's alright with you. I mean, I need something to do apart from counting spots on the ceiling anyway. Unless you honestly want me out and you're being too polite to say so." Well, didn't that sentence sound odd. Derek Dobbs being polite? And these words were coming out of her own mouth, no less! Meredith had to wonder how much all the drugs he had to be hopped up on had to do with his current attitude, but she really hoped that it wasn't much. If he could stand to be like this all the time, there was a chance that they could actually get along for more than five seconds out in the real world.

Derek was almost too ashamed of the grin that spread on his face, but he was feeling too happy to care. He made as much room for on the bed as he could possibly manage, and they sat, chatting about things he couldn't even remember. The whole time, he found himself staring a little too intently at her face, like he was trying to memorize the way her face looked when laughed, or how her brow furrowed slightly when she was thinking, the sound of her voice, and a lot of other things he probably shouldn't have been doing, but found that he had little-to-no control over anyway. He just hoped she hadn't noticed, or she had chalked it up to a haze of pain and potions. It was nice--different-- than their usual way of communicating, in scowls and teasing jabs, and, occasionally, physical violence. It was nice.

One of the nurses poked her head in to let him know that it was time for his sleeping draught, and as Meredith stood up, he caught a hold of her wrist.

"Once again-- thanks. You made this day just that much more bearable. I was about ready to make a break for it."

It was with reluctance that Meredith got up from the bed, but the nurse was looking at her expectantly, and as she glanced at the clock she noticed just how long she'd been there talking. Merlin's pants, had it really been over an hour? She had hardly noticed the time as it passed, and wondered once again at how she could have actually been enjoying spending so long talking to Derek, of all people.

Well, whatever it was, she was grateful. Apart from the fact that they weren't exactly in the best environment or circumstances ever, it had been one of the nicest conversations she'd had in a while.

Meredith turned back to him in surprise as she felt a set of fingers curl around her wrist, and smirked slightly. "Well, I'm glad that I could help," she said. "I hope you feel better soon. And maybe I'll---well, maybe I'll come by again. If you're still hanging around this place, you know." Which, by the looks of him, she was certain that he would be, but she didn't want to sound too definite---too like she was looking forward to it. Even if she was.

Okay, really was.

"I'll see you later, Dobbs." With one last smile, she gently loosened her wrist from his grip and walked out the door.