WHO: Bianca Vaisey and Bertram Aubrey
WHAT: Bianca's ended up in her hospital bed (oh those hitwizards)
WHEN: Today!
WHERE: St. Mungo's!



Bianca blinked wearily up at the ceiling of the hospital room, wondering why the clock that struck noon had to be so loud. Her bed, which was actually hers, given to her on her first day of hitwizard training, felt strange. It had been a long time since she’d ended up in St. Mungo’s, but the second you commented on how little action you were getting on your beat, you were basically blown to bits. She still had all her bits, she was sure, but man, did they all hurt like hell.

She was really regretting switching shifts today. It had been out of the kindness of her heart (and because she didn’t want to deal with the new recruits), and look where she ended up! Bruised all over because some idiot thief thought it would be a good idea to blast a bloody hole through the wall of an all brick cauldron shop. Bianca didn’t know how long she’d been trapped under the rubble, and don’t even mention the few spells the thief haphazardly threw at her, which bounced off the cauldrons and struck her hard.

It seemed like there was absolutely no luck on her side!

Bianca put her hands to her eyes, hoping the pressure would remove some of her headache, but even the simple gesture of lifting her arms made her shake. The healers had to wait a few hours before giving her the rest of her potions, so she was going to have to suffer through the painful bruising for a bit longer.

Bertram had always thought that Bianca having her own bed at St. Mungo’s was a joke, but when he’d gotten the urgent floo about his fiancee (ha, fiancee) being severely injured and in her usual spot in the hospital -- well. It was a lot less funny when it wasn’t actually a joke. He scowled, explaining to his boss that he needed to leave early to tend to a family emergency before taking the short floo trip to St. Mungo’s.

“Bianca?” He tried not to sound too panicked as he pushed into the room, awkwardly holding the flowers behind him in an attempt to hide them for the moment.

“Are you in here?”

The sound of his voice made her smile, and Bianca went to push herself up with her elbows, but groaned and dropped back into the pillow. She could lift her head up, at least, and grinned, though maybe that was a bad idea because her bruised face sent a wave of pain.

“Welcome to my home away from home,” she joked, letting out a breath. It was very good to see Bertram, and even though she didn’t physically feel any better, being sarcastic would help ease some of the tension she had. He looked rather dashing in his work robes too, as well, so that was also a nice sight for sore (very sore) eyes. “Sorry I didn’t have time to freshen up.”

Hitwizard humor really was only for a select, crazy few.

“That is so not funny. Neither of those things are funny,” he said with another frown, sliding into the room with her and then biting his lip for a moment. “The nurses flooed my office, you know.” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to get her to do by bringing that up -- maybe he just wanted her to know that he’d come here from work.

“You know I don’t care about how you look,” he said with a furrow of his brows, bringing the flowers out from behind his back. “I mean, past the fact that you look like I should be going out to beat someone up right now.” He crossed his arms over his chest once he’d set the flowers down in her arms on the bed.

Bianca pouted at the sight of the flowers, and shook her head, “I was just joking,” she said, now feeling a bit guilty. She realized quickly that she’d never had a boyfriend during her time as a hitwizard, and had never had to think about what that kind of call did to a person. Bianca had told her superiors that unless she was on the brink of death, do not owl her parents because they already disapproved of her career choice and did not need a visual aid to their protests. Bianca supposed that fiance was listed in a different category, and she frowned.

“I’m fine,” she promised, knowing that it would be hard to believe with how bruised and battered she looked. Really, she was! Once she could take her second set of potions things would rapidly heal and she’d be out of here tomorrow. Hopefully! If anything, it would only be one night, and Bertram could manage one night without her...but what about her baby! Oh, she hadn’t exactly had a baby while on the job, either, and Bianca realized that this could be her first night without Aaron, and it could be Aaron’s first night without her, and suddenly she wasn’t feeling too fine, “I’m fine!”

Her last words came out as a bit of a squeak, and Bianca really wished she’d been put to sleep with some potions before Bertram had come. Then she wouldn’t be thinking about the what ifs, and all the things that could’ve gone wrong, and how she’d hurt the people she cared about. Bloody hell, no wonder hitwizards seemed to fail miserably in the relationship department! How was she supposed to handle this kind of guilt?

Aaron had been his primary concern after Bianca, in fact. The boy had spent a lot of time with Bianca and he had been sure that she was going to be freaking out about the idea of having to leave Aaron alone for even one night, considering how she felt about them going out of the house even now.

“You don’t look fine,” he said quietly, sitting down onto the edge of the bed and reaching out to touch her hair for a moment before he drew it back. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt her, after all. “You also sound like you suddenly swallowed a hamster,” he furrowed his brows, “Are you okay? Really.”

“I---” She thought she was fine, but that was before Bertram had come in and reminded her that she actually had something, someone to go home to. When she went to work, her duty was all that was on her mind. Hell, even in the hospital acting like it was just a paper cut was what you did. No respectable hitwizard cried about it, or moaned and whined unless they couldn’t control it! She couldn’t cry, she had to keep cool, and Bianca’s face twisted.

“I am,” she said shakily, but she reached out for Bertram’s hand and gripped it, “I’ll be fine, I just---” Bianca shut her eyes tightly, “I haven’t had anyone at my bedside before.”

Bianca let out a nervous laugh, lifting her other hand to press it against her eyes. Maybe she could physically stop her tears, “If I think about it I won’t be fine.”

He knew that she was probably used to trying to pretend like nothing was wrong, but if Bertram had figured anything out in his last few years of Hogwarts with a daughter at home, pretending nothing was wrong didn’t really work either. He rubbed a hand over his neck before he leaned in, trying to kiss her as delicately as he could. He didn’t want to hurt her, but it was something he definitely felt that he had to do. He let her grip his hand, giving hers a squeeze.

“I’m not going to tell anyone if you cry,” he pointed out, “And I’m sure you’ll be fine. I just want to make sure nothing that happened,” Merlin, this sounded so stupid, “You know, upset you. I know that you go through this kind of thing at your job all the time, but you don’t -- really talk about it, you know?”

How could she talk about it? Her job was dangerous, she’s seen things that most people couldn’t even dream about, and to come home and talk about it was the last thing she wanted to do. Relive the terror? Aurors got it easy, they didn’t have to be out there every day, in the worst areas of the wizarding world with the scum of the community. Aurors had the time to plan their attacks, to make sure that things were done down to the millisecond. Hitwizards? Ha, they had to rush in the second they sensed danger, they had to make sure that no one besides the crooks and themselves got hurt.

Hitwizards....well, they just had to deal and hope they could come back into work the next day.

Bianca dropped her hand away from her face at the kiss and wanted him to kiss her again, but now there was talking that had to be done. What could she say? What did he think she needed to say? “What...do you want to know?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I just want to know what’s on your mind. If anything was bothering you about it, that sort of thing. Anything I can do to help make you feel better, I guess.” Alternatively, he could just … rub her feet or something like that, but he’d offer to talk first. That had been something girls had told him in the past, after all -- that he was horrid at communication.

Bertram looked over to the open door and got up to shut it so that they could have a little bit more privacy. Sure, there weren’t many other people in the wing, but he didn’t want people spying on their personal business.

She didn’t really know what to say. They’d never been a couple that pried into each other’s business. Even when Bertram was becoming distant when she first found out she was pregnant with Aaron, she hadn’t pushed for him to explain what was the matter. Bianca was sure that she still didn’t know what had exactly made him turn away from her, but whatever it had been Bertram had pushed through it and made the changes necessary.

Did she need to make some changes? Bianca loved her job, she did. Being able to help those in need, those that were defenseless against senseless violence and cruelty...she thrived off of it. Maybe it was the power trip her Slytherin self needed, but she knew that if she had to leave the squad for a job like the desk one she had while pregnant she would go out of her mind. But how could she handle thinking about Bertram and Aaron waiting for her to get home? These past few months had been fine, because she hadn’t gotten hurt, but now it felt as if for the first time she was feeling her own mortality.

Bloody hell.

“I don’t want to quit my job,” she said steadily, looking at Bertram. He hadn’t asked her to quit, but she wanted to make sure that he knew that she wasn’t. Bianca mustered up some strength and pushed herself up, to sit against the headboard of the bed so that she could face him. She was very prideful, he knew that of her. Maybe it was a problem, but it wasn’t something one heart to heart session was going to fix, “I like helping people in this way because I know what it’s like to be the one getting attacked and not knowing what to do. Before you and Aaron I never had...” Her eyes darted away for a second before flitting back up to him, “I never had anything to live for, or to lose. I’ll be more careful but I can’t hang up my robes.”

He raised an eyebrow at Bianca when she spoke. “Is this the part where I tell you not to put words in my mouth? Bloody hell, Bianca, I would never ask you to quit your job when it’s obvious that it makes you so happy.” He wanted to know more about why, that was all. “I’m not even asking you to be more careful, I’m just trying to let you know if there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m not some sort of fainting and delicate flower. I can take knowing that you’re hurt, I just can’t take knowing you’re hurting -- uh, inside -- if I can help make it better, you know?”

Merlin, when had he gotten so damned soft.

“Just … ah, nevermind.”

“No, I----”

She didn’t want to stop talking about it, especially now when his concern was focused on the why. Bertram could handle her getting caught up in these situations, he could handle the long nights and the worry. She felt guilty for wanting to continue to pursue a job where she would force those things on her fiance, but it was what she wanted to do. It was what she had to do.

“I know I seem---angry all the time. Not at you, or at Aaron, or---I know I’m angry a lot. It’s----” Bianca pushed some hair out of her face before reaching for Bertram’s hand. He knew that her brother had been killed by death eaters, but that was all he’d known, “It’s because I was there the night Thomas was killed.”

She looked down at their hands, not having had to speak about this since her mandatory hitwizard therapy sessions had ceased; too much time was being wasted and they needed the squad on the street. Bianca didn’t want Bertram to think she was crazy for becoming a crime fighter because of her brother’s death, even though that’s how she felt most days.

“It was at my house and...he told me that they’d been after him, but he refused to join their cause.” Her brother had been so brave, and she’d been so naive. “Then there was a banging on our door and...he pushed me into a closet, to keep me safe.” With each passing word the energy she’d mustered slowly depleted and her shoulders sagged. Her eyes looked glassy and distant, but she needed to explain to Bertram why she did what she did. “I heard the fighting, and then I saw the green light under the door and...I lost it.” She shook her head.

“I burst out of the closet and just started throwing spells out, not caring if they caught me or killed me just----I was so angry that they’d hurt my brother, that they’d murdered him and----” Bianca shut her eyes, but the images were just as vivid; she’d never be able to escape them. “He was just there, on the floor, eyes wide and----I couldn’t do a thing about it. I was hiding in a bloody closet and he’d gotten killed to keep me safe, you know? I just---I had to do something with my life, I needed to do something with my anger so....” She lifted up her other hand, “I became a hitwizard.”

Well, this was certainly not what he’d been expecting. He’d had a feeling that there was more to the story about her brother being killed by Death Eaters, but she hadn’t pushed him to talk about his Death Eater problems, so he was fairly certain that he had no right to do the same. At least she was telling him now, though.

He gave her hand a squeeze, glad that she’d gotten to the end of her story without losing it. He’d never been good at figuring out half-finished stories. Bertram brought one hand up to brush some of her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry, Bianca. I know that you think that he’d gotten killed to keep you safe, but --” he didn’t want to say ‘he knew these people’, but it was true, “-- but if they were there to kill anyone it was definitely him. He just saved you from being killed as well.” He paused.

“I know that probably doesn’t make you feel better. And I can’t blame you for being angry.” He was just glad she hadn’t just gone all vigilante on everyone and had actually gong through legitimate channels for her … revenge, really.

It didn’t make her feel better. Bertram sounded like everyone else when they tried to tell her to move on and move past her brother’s death, but they weren’t there. They hadn’t heard the shouting or the thud of his body against the floor. They hadn’t seen the green light, and they hadn’t been struck to the floor by vicious death eaters in her pretty Christmas dress robes. She’d heard the same words a million times, and once again, she nodded and let out a breath.

“I’m trying not to be all the time,” she said, as she always did. She was trying, but that underlying rage would never fully disappear, because she would never be able to accept that she could not have prevented Thomas’ death. There were so many escape scenarios that she could now see, and Bianca would have gladly given her life to ensure her brother wasn’t taken into Voldemort’s army, “So---it’s getting better.”

She lied, and lied, but at least Bertram and Aaron helped her find the happiness she needed to survive.

Bertram wasn’t entirely sure that she was being truthful with him, but he didn’t want to start a fight while she was upset and also laid up in the hospital. Really, he’d just been trying to make her feel better and this -- did not seem like it had helped at all.

All it did was make him want to tell Bianca about his father more in-depth, and now was certainly not the time for that. He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair and then just leaning in to kiss her.

“I’m glad it’s getting better.” At least he wasn’t somehow making it worse -- or he hadn’t been before. Maybe he was now.