June 30th, 1892 — Dory's Home, Bartonburg
Mabel Brighton

The disappointment of arriving home to a note from Winnie explaining not to expect her had stung in a way he hadn't prepared for. He had to grow accustomed to her absence again as her confidence grew after the attack in April, but Dory hadn't realized that confidence would extend to other men as well. The realization should've been obvious in hindsight, especially when he considered how none of their pre-existing issues had been resolved in the aftermath of her birthday. After all, it wasn't as though they were married or even known publicly to be attached. For all everyone else knew, they were nothing to one another — just as Winnie preferred it to be.

He'd changed into loose fitting trousers and an undershirt almost immediately after tossing her note into the fireplace, for while it was still early enough in the evening that he might've found someone else to bring home he knew he would be terrible company. (And, even if Dory refused to admit it, he was uncomfortable with the prospect of finding Winnie in someone else's company in whatever random pub he chose.) Everyone would be better off if he kept to himself tonight — perhaps he would even dive into the new mystery novel he'd been putting off for some months. At the very least, Dory most certainly shouldn't go for a ride on a broom after consuming the amount of firewhiskey he intended to.

In the end, the novel proved to be interesting enough that it kept his interest long enough for the burn of the whiskey to turn soothing. In fact, Dory might have even fallen asleep on the sofa were it not for the quiet knocks on his front door. Brows furrowing, he carelessly tossed his book to the side and reached for his discarded wand. Winnie never arrived by any other means than floo, and his family all knew better than to visit him at this hour. The only other suspects he could envision as he walked towards the door were disgruntled fathers, brothers or husbands, and for those he had to be prepared. Hatchitt would be livid if he missed a shift for such rakish reasons.

Only, when he opened the door his surprise guest was none other than Maple. It was almost as though the universe knew he needed something bright in his life at present. "Evening love," he greeted cheerfully before tucking his wand back into his waistband. "Come in. What brings you here so late?"

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Most grueling days she could manage. Aching feet, aching back and general exhaustion from all the calls out to emergencies came with the territory of the job. But when it involved having to deal with family members, talking to the public, having to field questions of worried guardians; it was what would zap Mabel of any energy left at the end of the day. Sometimes she would transform into her wolf form and go for a run. Other times she would talk to Algae; he would cheer her up in no time. And then there were those times; the time when all she needed was someone's presence, and perhaps a stiff drink. For those times, she went to —

"Hullo, Dory," It was all the witch to do to not burst into tears right on his doorstep. She could barely keep her voice from wobbling. She was in the shadows of the night, but the light streaming in from behind him as his cheerful expression looked at her made something in her stomach lurch. "No reason -" There was of course, a reason. "I just wanted to stop by and see how you were."

She could never admit to having any sort of bad day this early upon arrival; just in case he had company over and she wanted to make a quick getaway. But the lack of any noise behind him told her he was at least all alone. Mabel moved forward past the threshold, raising her arms to unbutton her cloak. They were already so heavy from the day's work, she began fumbling with the button at her throat before turning to Dory, unable to mask the helpless expression that had affixed itself to her features.

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Dory was halfway convinced he was imagining this entire situation, or perhaps it was a dream? Try as he might, Dory couldn't remember the last time Maple had visited his flat. Before Winnie began staying for certain, which meant it'd been months since they last met anywhere other than a public setting. Had she decided to make the move he was always tempted to then? The line was always a rather obvious one to him, but maybe Maple was more like Winnie than he thought. Maybe they could fall into bed and still be friends in the morning, too.

Or, the more likely scenario, Maple was still entirely uninterested and simply visiting as a friend.

He took her cloak and hung it on the hook behind the door. "It's rather hot for - " Dory began to comment before seeing her grief stricken expression. Suddenly, it was as though he was transported back to that night with Winnie. A whiskey induced fury blazed through him, ready to maim whomever had hurt Maple.

Stepping forward, Dory enveloped her in a hug, petting her hair soothingly. "It's alright." He'd find out the specifics of what happened (and who to knock into oblivion) eventually, but for now she was in obvious need of comfort.

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In her stupor Mabel hadn't realized she had grabbed the wrong cloak; she should have been perspiring something awful by the time she'd reached Dory's doorstep, but she had found herself there before she even thought to turn around and get her summer hat. The early evening sun had beat down upon her and there was a great deal of freckles splattered across her nose by the time she'd arrived. It was only when she'd stepped into his flat - slightly cooler than it was outside - than she realized. Well, that and his light-hearted comment.

She was about to volley back a response - wasn't that what they did? - before his arms encircled her and she found herself inhaling his warm scent. Safe.

And then the tears came. She tried to explain to him what had happened. Dealing with crying children wondering where their parents were, crying parents wondering where their children were; chaos had easily reigned and Mabel had done more than lose control of the situation. She felt wound as taught as a piano wire, and even Dory's closeness wasn't enough to see her relax her posture. "An-and so after he had yelled at me, the squad head told me to get back to the office and do paperwork." As if the paperwork was death sentence enough, Mabel hiccuped again, burying her face even further into him.

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A work thing wasn't as terrible as what he had envisioned, though it still seemed like an all around awful situation. Kicking the door shut behind him, Dory kept his arms locked steadily around her as she cried. How had his department not been involved in this catastrophe? Crying children almost always resulted in some ridiculous burst of magic happening. At the very least, he would've preferred to be there to shield Maple from the worst of it.

And, apparently, to kill her superior that allowed such chaos to ensue without sending additional support.

"It wasn't your fault," he murmured, gently nudging her in the direction of his bedroom. Dory was under no presumptions of anything happening aside from her crying and hopefully sleeping, but the sofa wasn't the best spot for comforting someone. It was lumpy and would lead to them either having an uncomfortable night's sleep there or an aching back.

"He shouldn't have yelled at you. Frantic parents and frightened children are just about the worst combination you could encounter."

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beautiful set by lady

"Dory, it's my job," What good was she for the hospital or society if she couldn't manage to control the loved ones of her patients? It wasn't only that she hadn't been able to control them, but the fact that she felt she needed to rely on being under the hospitals roof, where help was only a call away. Medi-healing wasn't for the weak hearted - that was what they had said during training, and she was clearly proving to absolutely useless.

This realization only made her sob harder, but she mindlessly walked in the direction Dory was nudging her. "I'm - I'm a failure, Dory, I couldn't even stand up to my boss and tell him we needed another department's help!"

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"And it's your boss' job to support his employees." He explained with a mild grumble. Even Hatchitt had a better grip on their department than her boss seemed to have. At the very least Dory knew he'd never be sent into a situation primed for chaos without another's help. "You're not a failure. A failure would have thrown in the towel and stopped trying, or would have grown angry at the crowd and reacted poorly. You did your best, you kept trying. It was your boss that was the failure here."

Once they were in his room Dory gestured for her to lay down. "Trust me, alright? I promise you're safe." He murmured, praying he didn't further her breakdown with this decision.

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Despite his words, Mabel had her doubts that led her to sink defeatedly into the mattress. It was only when she sat down that the exhaustion finally swept over her and her eyes fluttered. Hand swiping at her cheek to remove the dampness, she sniffed and hiccuped again before forcing herself to take a deep breath. And then another. And another. "I know," The words came easily because they were the truth. With anyone she knew that Dory would be someone she could trust completely.

Now that her heart had seemingly slowed down, Maple allowed herself to take in the room she was in. "Oh," His bedroom. She stared with a glassy gaze at the room before focusing more intently upon his figure in front of her. Reaching a hand up to wipe more tears out of her eyes, her gaze focused on him and she took a sniff. There was a distinct smell of alcohol about him, which meant he'd either had company and they'd miraculously left, or she'd just interrupted what was going to be a calm, relaxing night.

Or perhaps he'd been ready to go out for a night with some mates. It was probably that option.

"Oh, Dory I'm so sorry, I've ruined your night."

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Somehow, Dory doubted she had accepted his explanation as an inner truth. She had to already have some serious self doubts about herself to be this upset after a single chaotic day. Still, he didn't push the issue. There would be plenty of time from here on out that he could remind her of her successes. Evidently, comforting his female friends was just about all he was good for anyway.

He kept a hand on her until he noticed her looking about the room and wandlessly lit the nearby candles. Despite having never encountered her this upset, he suspected a dark and unfamiliar room would only offset her mood all the more. "It's alright, Maple. My only plans for the night was to sleep. You haven't ruined anything." Dory shrugged as he plopped onto the edge of his mattress. "I promise. If anything you spared me a night of sleeping on my dreadfully uncomfortable sofa."

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She let out another hiccup at hearing her nickname, blinking blearily into the light as more of his room was thrown into relief. "I've never been in here before." She mused mildly, before poking idly at a thread loose in his comforter. "Why do you sleep on the sofa? It seems perfectly comfortable here."

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Because I despise sleeping alone, Dory nearly grumbled but thought better of it. He'd grown too accustomed to snuggling throughout the night that curling up with only the spare pillow left him tossing and turning all night. It was ridiculous, really, and most certainly a habit he had to break. Especially if Winnie was determined to keep spending time in other men's beds.

He shrugged again. "I would have dozed off reading most likely. It wouldn't have been intentional."

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Mabel blinked. It looked like Dory had been about to reply with something else, but perhaps it was the exhaustion taking over her. And yet, she found it oddly funny picturing him falling asleep on the couch. The corners of her mouth twitched until a giggle escaped. She clapped a hand over her mouth, though it didn't stop the smile from reaching her eyes. "Dozing off reading," she echoed, not bothering to hide her next laugh. "Do you do that often?"

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Dory wasn't sure what to make of Maple's quick change in mood. His bedroom had clearly distracted her from the downward spiral, but now she was giggling. Women typically only laughed like that in here shortly before intimacy began. Maple didn't want that though, did she? They were friends, close friends but friends nevertheless.

He wouldn't push any boundaries tonight, he decided firmly. Not unless she pushed them first.

"Sometimes. It depends on the night." A mild blush of embarrassment warmed his cheeks, though Dory hoped she wouldn't see it in the candle light. "Some nights I'm exhausted from work, others I go out. It all depends, really. You don't ever fall asleep reading?" He concluded with a short chuckle and raised brows.

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"Of course I do!" Came her quick response, her mouth popping open in a small 'o' - partly because of what she'd just admitted to, and partly because, well didn't everyone doze off now and then? "I mean, but only in a lady-like fashion, of course." It occurred to her she didn't want to reveal to him that the picture of him dozing off with his head tilted back against the cushions with his mouth open slightly had been the image that came to her mind.

Despite her giggles, Mabel still felt quite heavy, and she was tempted to lean back into the pillows and doze off right there. But the thought of falling asleep in front of Dory (what if she drooled?!) was not something she wanted to entertain, and so with a decisive intake of breath, Mabel stood up quickly, about to move for the door again to perhaps invigorate herself to stay awake longer.

But instead of moving to the door, she quickly found her feet did not understand any sort of signal her brain might have sent, and her knees buckled instantly.

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"Oh, of course. With your decorative ballgown draped delicately over the couch and some smelling salts nearby to rouse you." He teased. While Maple was wildly more ladylike than some of the women he associated with (Winnie) Dory had never associated her with being a delicate flower. Maple was tough and determined, strong when she needed to be. She was a hero, someone who'd rush into a collapsing building with no thought as to her own well being. None of those traits resembled anything fragile.

Except, she'd come over crying, so maybe she was more vulnerable than he thought.

Despite how tipsy he still was, Dory remained alert enough to catch her instantly. Helping her wasn't a particularly difficult task though as she stumbled into him and his hands landed firmly on her hips. Blinking up at her, Dory's amused grin morphed intoa look of concern. "You alright there?"

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She had laughed again at his quip about smelling salts. The image alone was something that was just out of character enough for her that the idea seemed ludicrous. But the sensation of his hands on her hips (covered as they were by her skirts, and petticoats — oh Merlin, no this was not the time to be thinking about her under garments and the proximity of a man's hands to them) saw her cheeks flush quite a bit, and suddenly Mabel wished for the lights to be out. No! Not out, that was...that was what happened when a man and woman lied together, wasn't it? Oh, this was not something she wished to be thinking about right in this moment, help.

"Yes," She squeaked, before placing her feet firmly beneath her and righting herself. "We have smelling salts at work." It was a feeble attempt at distraction. "I shouldn't wish to have those near me every day any how."

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