14 June 1892— St. Mungo's Hospital

When he had received Hatchitt's call for backup, it hadn't been in his mind that Cartwright would be gone when they showed up. The realization of losing a member of the squad had hit him, but Faustus knew better than to let that knock him off guard. There was little time to do much else than to fight their way out. Upon landing he only had about a 30 seconds before hell rained upon them and spells flew left and right. With a reinforced squad it was easy enough to fight their way out, but they'd gotten hit with a wave of their opponents' reinforcements.

They had come in the form of exploding potions, and it was all Faustus could do to avoid getting hit in the face with a nasty liquid that nearly dissolved a boulder behind him in less than a minute. The shattering glass from the vials of potion acted as shrapnel, glancing across their faces leaving small red streaks of blood. Faustus' spell hit his opponent square in the chest, giving him time to look around to see Sterling fighting for his life against two men. "Sterling!" He shouted, running to help the former head auror as a third man appeared behind him.

Before he could reach him, there was a great roar, and Faustus was thrown into the air. At once, he felt a searing sting at his side that felt as if he had been dipped into a pool of acid. Then, his head connected with something solid and everything went black.

— — —
It was the slight ringing in his ears that awoke him. And then there was the scalding pain on his arm and his abdomen that quickly did the rest of waking him up. He would have shot upright if he hadn't been on a stretcher that was already levitating in the air. Gasping in pain, Faustus opened his eyes, resisting the urge to convulse. The first thing he saw was red - ah, that was his own blood - and then he looked beyond his burnt arm to see that he was in a hospital - St. Mungo's. Fighting the darkness that was quickly descending upon him, Faustus looked to his right just in time to see a familiar figure sweep through the open doors, her robes fluttering gracefully about her as she hurried towards the group surrounding him.

---

— @"Marie-Louise Skovgaard" —

  

The afternoon had been a quiet one. Malou had been working on brewing a few extra potions to have on hand and checking on supplies when the commotion started. The hospital, like a well oiled carriage, was well tuned to disasters and as such their staff was alerted efficiently. Malou knew her role in this. All available healers to attend to injuries, to help direct, and focus on the worst of the worst first.

With quick steps she was moving toward the entry way, but at the murmur of aurors she was moving even faster. Faustus. Fallon. Her thoughts leaped immediately to them, praying neither of them would be among the injured - or worse....

But her prayers went unanswered because the second she stepped into the entry hall she could see Faustus's wavy hair against the stretcher. She had to keep herself from gasping, from moving forward any faster, from calling out. Instead she moved forward, angling herself toward Faustus before another healer could intercede instead of her.

There were some truths that Malou had to face in her line of work. Some nightmares she tried not to contemplate. Yet here it was, unfolding before her. Fear was clutching at her stomach as she inspected him, coming closer and closer. His face was bloody, his arm looked like it had burns, there were signs of several other spells on him, gashes and blood everywhere. But the most worrisome was the fact that his eyes were closed. She neared him, as his eyes opened. Not... she couldn't let herself finish the thought.

"Faustus!" Her whispered word strangled out of her as she reached his stretcher, meeting his blue eyes, horror rounding her own. What had happened? A moment later she had turned and was directing him to her ward, to a room, as other healers did the same for others brought in. But Malou couldn't take her attention from Faustus. Strong, kind Faustus, who had held her up, supported her through so much.

She followed the stretcher, her legs moving quickly to keep pace until finally they were in a room, with nurses scuttling about them. "What happened?" Malou's normally professional tone dissolved into something closer to whispered horror.

  

---

The closer Marie drew, the more prominent the expression of fear etched itself into her lovely features. Even in such a state, she was still the most beautiful person in the room. He wanted to reach out to her, to assure her that he was alright, but there wasn't much evidence to back him up. That he wasn't able to use his arm was proof enough, not to mention how seeped with blood the stretcher already was. But Faustus smiled at her; a lazy grin was all he could manage, as anything else felt like he was moving through molasses. Before he wasn't able to take her hand because of the pain, but now...now it felt as if he was struggling to even move his limbs beyond their current positions.

And then she was saying his name, like honey on her lips, and before he could respond, she set about directing her co-workers in a voice he rarely heard from her. It was as sharp a tone as he figured could come from her, with all the firmness she had employed against him all those weeks ago when he was injured at the Sanditon. Faustus wanted to chuckle in amusement, but the most he could manage was a poorly timed cough.

Once in a room, Faustus felt himself be set down, and others quickly exited the room to give Marie the floor. "We went in as reinforcements, Sterling and I and a few others." It was as if his throat were rubbing against cobblestones, as he tried to get his explanation out. "Then they ambushed us with a host of potions. Something that smelled of burning tar. The last thing I remember was running towards Sterling before I got thrown against something."

Amongst all the swirling colors and images in his vision, Faustus managed to focus on her. "It's good to see you." He whispered, smiling again. "I thought I wouldn't."

---

  

A few others? Fallon? Surely had Fallon been among them Faustus would have told her. He knew how close the two of them were, surely he'd tell her if Fallon were among the injured. But he hadn't. Which meant she had to trust him and focus on her job. She couldn't do that worrying about both him and Fallon.

Malou forced herself to focus on the details in his words. Potions. Tar. Being thrown into something. Her mind whirled with the possibilities looking at the injuries he had sustained as he spoke. "Get a potions nurse." She directed the only nurse left in the room. The woman left the bandages and scurried from the room with out further question as Malou bent over Faustus to begin moving his shirt away from the injuries.

But his words caught her off guard, stilling her fingers and pulling her gaze up to his own. There was a smile on his lips, one he used only for her. Without realizing it, Malou's fingers had slid into his hand, and she squeezed it. "Don't say that." She whispered fiercely, her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion. "It'll be alright." But whether she was reassuring herself or him, Malou wasn't sure, because the words implied the very fear she was trying to avoid.

  

---

"I won't," The promise slipped from his lips as quickly as she had appeared at his side in the foyer. In this state he would likely agree to anything she commanded him to do (as if that weren't already the case when he was in perfect condition). Her fingers were warm, and in this moment Faustus knew she had ruined him for any other healer that may come to treat him in the future - there would be none more gentle or caring or as capable as her, he was sure of it. If her conviction alone were enough to heal him, he was sure he would be walking around already.

"I'm sorry I'm afraid I've ruined your day." He murmured again, though truth be told he was quite content with being here with her, no matter his condition. The fact that her forehead was creased with worry as she focused on undoing his shirt. He did his best to lie still, tempted as he was to curl an arm around her waist and embrace her. Faustus did his best to keep in mind that such an action would prove to be rather painful for him at the moment.

Even with his vision mostly cleared, his mind felt as if he was wading through a muddy bog. She was still the only clear thing in front of him, and so he decided to keep his attention on the corners of her mouth which were still cast downwards. "You look beautiful."

---

  

At his promise Malou let go of his hand and began the process of getting his shirt off him. She was trying to keep her mind clinical as she did so, but memories of the last time she had done this, that time at Sanditon, were rolling in on her as were the feelings of the months between then and now. She had worried then, but now that worry had intensified sliding into her stomach to clench her guts in its fist.

His chest was battered, bruises blooming every where. She could see the point of impact of the spell that had thrown him, the abnormal shape of the bones fractured or broken. Gingerly her fingers eased his shirt over his shoulders. His words caught her off guard and Malou's eyes flicked to his face. She hadn't even thought of that. Her day, how it was going, mattered so little in the face of this. "Don't fret over it." She replied in the same low tone, trying to keep the emotions at bay. She had a task to focus on. So instead she turned back to the shoulders of his shirt and tried to steady her voice to it's normal tone of healer, "I'm going to cut the shoulders of this off. Then I'll need to see your back." She didn't see signs of impact beyond spell damage on the front, and was concerned about his back.

But Faustus was undetered as she used wand work to cut away the shirt. His arm was badly burned, droplets splattered to the main wound - definitely a potion not a spell. For a moment her hands stilled in their task, and she was grateful she was already in the process of using a spell to levitate him to see his back, so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in her eyes.

She had never thought of herself as beautiful. Looking in the mirror she could catalog her many flaws as well as she could the injuries on a patient's body. Her too large eyes, the shadows that always lingered under them, the lips too full for her face, the unremarkable color of her hair. But somehow Faustus saw that as beauty. "Shh." She tried to hush him.

Her eyes focused on his back as she blinked rapidly. It was almost all bruised, the point of impact obvious from here, as well as scraps and cuts. It looked like part of his spine might be broken. Better to start on the back then. She determined. Moving quietly and efficiently through the steps, washing his back, healing the bones and scraps. She'd have the nurses put a poltice on him when she was done. Finally she laid his back on the bed, letting the levitation spell lower him gently. Her eyes had cleared and sought his face for signs of pain as she did so. "You'll likely need to spend a night or two here." She told him as she began to look over his chest.

Impatience was beginning to wear on her as she looked at the burned arm. Where was the nurse from potions? She ought to have been here by now. It was an impatience more born of selfishness then professionalism. From the fact that it was the man she loved before her on the bed, rather than her patient before her. For the first time in her career she was struggling to seperate the two entirely, something she always thought she might be able to do, but now faced with it was entirely unsure if that was even possible.

  

---

As she began to cut his shirt off, he did his best to keep still, to be a good patient for her, but even movements as gently as she levitated him sent pain searing down his spine and he gritted his teeth to prevent him from crying out. She was doing what needed to be done. There was no point in making her more worried than she already was. And yet he still found some semblance of comfort in her fear - it had been a long time since someone had been that worried for him, and it touched him.

He could only flinch and let the expressions of agony shoot across his face as she mended his bones - they crackled back into place easily. And yet he couldn't hold back a grunt of pain as he felt his spine ripple back in place, so he tried to pass it off as another cough. By the time he was back down on the bed, Faustus had carefully arranged his expression back into one of...less discomfort.

"Alright." The idea of spending a night or two in the hospital didn't phase him in the least; in fact the thought of spending more time with her meant a great deal less time where she was away. But then again, Faustus didn't want to hold her here - she had a job to do, and he didn't want to take her away from where she could help others. It was what she did best, but he could see in her expression, her eyes, the way she focused on his injuries that she was battling with...something. Still, he couldn't help but ask: "Will I get to see you?"

It came hoarsely - she was still the only thing he could really focus on, a beacon to a ship in the darkness that was swirling in front of his vision. If it hadn't been her mending him, Faustus figured he would have passed out by now. Somehow she was keeping him there, anchored and as steady as he could bear.

---

  

Unlike some of her patients, Faustus accepted this simplicity, as if he had expected it. Perhaps he had, she thought as she moved her focus across his chest and arms. Beyond the fresh injuries she could see scars across his chest. She had known, of course, that he would have ended up in the hospital before given his career - Lord, she'd even seen him injured several times since she had met him. But she had never considered just how frequent those injuries might be. Her mind, instead, had chosen to focus on the possibility of new ones, rather than injuries he had previously survived. But as she looked at the scars and the current injuries she found her heart squeezing. He was much too use to this.

At his question, though, Malou's eyes sought his again. "Of course. As long as you'd like me too." Her shift ended soon, but she couldn't imagine going anywhere with Faustus like this. The draw to his side was too strong, her worries over him even worse. It wasn't that she didn't trust her colleagues, it was just that she didn't want to leave him. To be left wondering what was happening.

  

---

He knew the moment when she'd seen his scars - most of them were small, silver streaks that barely stood out anymore. Others were more prominent, puckering where the skin gathered so serve as a reminder of his actions: some mistakes, others made in the line of work, and some for far more stupid reasons than he would care to divulge to Marie.

He met her gaze, and couldn't help but smile through the burning at his side. "Good." It was all the assurance he needed as his eyes begged to close and offer him some sleep. Faustus fought against this urge, harder to resist than before because now he knew he would be able to see her. That was enough.

But then it felt like something tore at him, a hot iron sinking into his chest, angry and unrelentless and he felt himself convulsing as a cry tore from him. It was as if the minute Faustus felt calm enough to fall asleep, to let her continue her work uninterrupted, it felt as if he was being ripped open.

---

  

At her reassurance Faustus's eyes grew heavy, but he seemed to be trying to keep them open for her sake. "Rest." Malou urged him, squeezing his hand gently in reassurance that she wasn't going to leave him. His body needed sleep to heal, almost as much as her own magicwork, if not more.

Malou turned her attention to the spell damage at the bottom of his ribs, starting with a simple spell. But his reaction was anything but simple. The sound that tore through him tore at her own heart, his body convulsing and arching. "Faustus!" Came the strangled cry unbidden from Malou's lips.

She heard a door open a few nurses flying in to assist. She gave hurried directions to them, trying to focus her efforts on the hex. Not just a spell, a hex. With lingering effects. A nasty and hidden piece of work. She tried a counter hex, followed quickly by a healing spell as the nurses held him down and soothed him with charms. Malou prayed she had caught it quick enough, her mind fixing to the problem at hand. Faustus needed her focus on him, not torn between her feelings and her healing. Without realizing it Malou began to silently say the Lord's prayer as she followed one spell after another.

Finally, a minute later, an hour, Malou had no idea, Faustus rested on the pillow. His chest bandaged, the spell receded. At some point he had passed out, Malou didn't know when, but he had. The nurses cleaned up the room, and Malou sank into a chair beside the bed, holding his hand. Our father, who art in Heaven." She began not realizing her lips moving in the silent prayer as her eyes watched Faustus's face for any movement, any sign that he was okay beyond the pulse that as a healer would have been enough to reassure Malou, but as the man she loved, only served to scare her more. His smile absent, his blue eyes closed against the usual humor, his brow smoothed away from worry. It was all so unlike him that Malou couldn't help but watch, scared of missing the smallest sign that he wasn't okay.

  

---

Having had the Cruciatus Curse cast upon him, Faustus knew this was only a fraction of the pain that the curse could summon - but pain was pain: simple, raw and unyielding. He heard Marie shout his name from somewhere in the distance, felt someone seize his arms to hold him down, but his vision had gone black. Whether his eyes had rolled to the back of head, or if he had simply lost vision, he did not know. The heat searing through the middle of his chest was only the beginning. It felt as if every bone were being snapped in his body, and he could do nothing to stop it.

Eventually - thankfully, mercifully - it did, but everything continued to stay black. The pain was gone, and he was free to drift off as he had wanted to before the curse had wrought havoc on him. Something slipped into his hand and held tight. Something warm and soft; someone else's hand that he didn't want to let go no matter what. The hand held on tight to him, and Faustus responded in kind. Whether he was still dreaming or not, he didn't care.

When his eyes fluttered open, he saw the owner of the hand - Marie - and a small smile twitched at his lips. She had been muttering something to herself while watching him. Whether it was an incantation or merely something to herself, he didn't know, but he wished she would continue. She looked so lovely when she spoke. Even more so when her features weren't pinched with worry. Faustus stared at her, momentarily confused before it all came back to him. "I'm so sorry, darling." He must have given her such a fright, screaming like he had. He remembered her crying out his name, remembered the distress that had coated every syllable as she talked with her co-workers.

---

  

Hallowed be Thy name- Faustus's eyes opened and he watched her as the words died on her lips. Her gaze looked over him for any sign of distress, any sign he was still in pain. The potions healer had been in a little bit ago to tend to his arm, and Malou had managed to contain the curse and hexes, heal the injuries, and fix the broken bones. Yet still she worried for his pain.

But his first words startled her, they were not what she had expected. "Oh no, Fautus, don't apoligize." Malou's quiet voice was choked with emotion. "It's my fault. I am so sorry." She ought to have caught it before it had brought him pain, she had failed him as a healer. Misery was written across her face. "I should have caught it."

"How do you feel?" She asked, trying to regain her clinical tone, to keep the tear at bay that were pooling in her eyes.

  

---

He would never doubt her capabilities as a healer, but when it came to emotions when a particular case was so personal, some things could be missed. He'd seen it time and time again in his career, and Faustus was sure that she had seen the same. "Shhh, it's alright, it's alright," It was his turn to reach out to calm her now. "It's not your fault, it's happened before it's —" not as bad as the Cruciatus Curse... He stopped himself mid sentence, hiding his slip up by shifting towards her and causing an ache to poke him in the ribs. There was no need to clue her in that he'd had an unforgivable curse put upon him; no need to cause her more worry than she already was.

It was better that he didn't exert himself, but that didn't prevent him from reaching out with his good hand to capture hers and run his thumb along her hand as he sat back. "Tired," He answered honestly with another smile at her. "But I feel better. Even more so with you here."

---

  

A tear escaped at his reassurance, and Malou quickly wiped her arm across her eyes. He was being too kind too forgiving. Malou, quite frankly, wasn't sure she'd ever forgive herself. He winced as he shifted, distracting her for a moment from his words, but as he answered her question her mind began to spin.

Her smile was weak in return, but his hand was reassuring. And tired was better than in pain. Besides, her heart warmed at the thought that merely being there could make him feel better. She felt the same about him, about the way he could make her worries melt away. The way she knew she could rely on him.

But there was something the healer in her wanted to know, something that had been in the back of her mind from his reassurance. "You said it's happened before?" She prompted. Was it an old spell that still lingered and had never been healed, or something else? She had to know to make sure she took care of it.

  

---

Even with his reassurances and masking his slip up, there was no going against her training, apparently. Faustus winced, clear he'd been caught. "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Marie," He pressed his hand more firmly into her palm, bringing his protesting injured one up to encase hers. Through the fog slowly swirling around in his mind, he stared for a moment at her expression. It was clear she hadn't rested since he came to the hospital. Another stab of guilt washed over him for making her so worried; it was then that he also came to the realization that she thought he may have some lasting injuries from previous times he'd been hexed.

He blinked. It was entirely possible, though she'd be the expert in lasting, underlying damage. He'd been in enough battles to have a lot of them leave visible scars, but...lasting spell damage?

"I only meant I've endured...worse, though I'm sure nothing to cause permanent damage." He doubted his clarification would provide any sort of comfort. It was an effort to assure her he hadn't been in as much pain as it seemed, however he was certain the screaming didn't help.

---

  

His words seemed the opposite of her instincts where he was concerned. There was so much to worry about with Faustus. Just as there was with Fallon. Perhaps had she not been through so much with Fallon she might have been scared by the weight of worry, but instead it settled on her shoulders like a second cape of worry atop the one reserved for Fallon. His job, as much as Malou's own, was a part of him. The worry was a part of being near him, being close to him. She understood that. Besides, if he worked in another career would she be any less worried? Likely not given how Fuatus himself worried about her.

His other hand reached for her, comforting her when it should be her comforting him, so Malou gave him a small smile as her mind worked through possibilities. Until he clarified what he had meant. Her own eyes met his again. Oh.

Malou's lips shaped into a frown. Worse. Of course. It was less than comforting thought, but he would know if there was lasting damage, so for now her efforts today would be the only thing to worry about. "I'm sorry." She murmured again, unsure what to say, but squeezing his hand. Hoping he knew just how much she never wanted to see him hurt.

Her free hand fluttered up to his cheek and caressed it comfortingly, glad she had healed the scratches that had been there. The gesture wasn't much, but she wished it to convey everything she felt in that moment. Love, concern, regret. Likely a futile effort. So instead she leaned forward and lightly kissed his lips.

  

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