*comes into the pub down the block from his flat, a plastic bag of thick, flexible plastic sheet and odd tubes of paint* *flops down, pulling his sunglasses off and sitting at the bar*

Pint? Lager? Cheers.

*takes off his coat and hangs it on the hook under the bar along with his art supplies, taking a long draught from his pint* *checks his mobile with the spare time, listens to a message from his sister* *spots Seamus in the middle of it and gives him a wave*

Who: Dean and Tonks
Where: Dean's Flat
When: Monday evening
What: Talking. Really.

I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

*picks at the tin of curry balancing on his stomach, only the scraggly bits of chicken left* *frowns and takes it off of him, setting it behind him on the sideboard*

*turns on his hip and turns off the movie* So bloody depressing. Who reccommended this to you?

Who: Dean and Tonks
When: Friday Night
Where: Dean and Tonks Flat
What: A discussion over living arrangements

( Then you are stupid because it's not what it means at all. )

Tonks,

At Mum's for dinner. Came back from Healer. Cleared for solo living.

Talk later?

Dean

*drops his suit jacket straight to the ground upon arrival, pulls the tie out with some aplomb, going straight to undo the top button* *feels like he can finally breathe*

*sighs in a rush* Ohthankgod. *but it's a happy rush- hasn't been able to keep the smile off his face all night*

Who: Dean and Tonks
When: Sunday afternoon
Where: St. Mungo's Spell Damage Ward
What: Tonks is pink and Dean is confused

I hear you're coming with me.

Who: Dean and Seamus
When: Early Saturday morning
Where: St. Mungo's Spell Damage Ward
What: Dean and Seamus are in pieces

Don't mind Seamus, he'll just walk it off.

*the room was empty, silent* *turns his head and recognises the sheen of the two way mirror* *is glad for it, can imagine there are a cadre of interns and trainees, maybe even an Auror or two that isn't Tonks* *looks to the iv* *sucks in as much bravery as he can and very gingerly twists the nob to close the drip*

*waits*

*waits*

*waits*

*panic starts to rise, in his chest; what if this didn't work, the medication has killed him, the numbness is permanent, he's never going to be able to feel anything...*

*panic* *right- that's an emotion that's not fear* *that's an emotion*

*starts to chuckle a little at the thought, it's so ridiculous for some reason and he's covering his mouth to hold it in* *the medication's gradually wears off, the laughing become crying become wracking sobs that send him crashing to his knees, iv ripped clear out of his arm, his broken eye searing with the acid sting of tears*

*he can feel it now, building like a tsunami, everything he poured into Dolohov, the beginning of a thousand memories that are only partially his flooding his mind and his body* *eyes wind tight as he drains it out, screaming into arms suddenly wrapped around him, head rested into a soft neck, slowing down the tidal wave of emotions enough so it doesn't send him spinning into madness*

*eye red with the crying, bandage over his injured eye recently changed* *must have added something to the plaster because the salt-water isn't making it sting something awful anymore* *Mum kisses him on the forehead, looking as if she'd earned all her gray hairs in the last 6 hours* *murmurs in his ear, asks if she'd be alright to go get a change of clothes and a shower* *feels unable to do anything but nod in agreement, body too stiff to do anything else* *another kiss and she rises up from the bed*

*softly, a hint of brightness* I'll go fetch a replacement, shall I? *she doesn't wait for a reply, just moves out of the room like a breeze, shutting the door soundlessly*

*doesn't creep up on him at all; it's a sudden wave of isolation, making him shiver under the covers* *even with their weight, doesn't feel warm enough* *eye closes and breathes deep, exhaling in shudders, throat still raw from crying*

*feels somewhat better now that he's slept, still a little raw from coming off the meds* *hugs himself a little tighter under the covers and yawns, blinking his free eye sleepily* *smiles softly*

*Mum looks peacefully exhausted* *makes a concerted effort to finish his yawn quietly* *very gingerly extricates himself from under the covers, padding over to put on his dressing gown and open the room door* *catches the eye of a nurse, relieved to see the pallet of dismissive concern and anticipation in his vision... and nothing else* *supposes whatever wall he's got up in his mind is holding strong once again* *sighs and starts moving towards the courtyard, wanting some fresh air*

Who: Dean and Tonks
Where: St. Mungo's, Spell Damage Ward
When: Early Sunday evening
What: Tonks checks in on Dean

More important things to do with our wands than shoot sparks

Who: Dean, Seamus and Marcus (special guests Padma and Parvati Patil and Very Special Guest Antonin Dolohov)
Where: The park across from the Ex-Patil flat
When: Tonight
What: It ends tonight

I'm a little BUSY, Seamus!!

*still feels incredibly wooden, lying in bed, patch over one eye* *it's not nearly the state he'd been in with Dolohov, but still feels so passive and only mildly caring of anything; thoughts and feelings still sliding out of his mind as if they'd been greased frictionless*

*feels enough to curse the medication again*

*looks up at the clock to see the time- 3 hours before his parents would be back with something not-hospital food to eat and conversation*

*wasn't wearing a cloak despite the chill of the spring evening- had apparated a block from the site so fast after getting the post, he was at a full run with his shoelaces still knotting themselves* *should have spread the net out further than just their old apartment- if he'd have only thought that he might just wait outside-- what the hell were they DOING walking around here at NIGHT?* *curses under his breath viciously, not caring about giving his position away*

*sees the bubble of sorrow before he sees any single person, so deep a blue it make his heart sink to the floor* *when he finally does spot Seamus's blond head, he's already put it together*

*the only question was which twin*

*turns the coloured egg over and over in his hand, large dexterous hand palming it easily in it's rotations* *it's one that Patrice did- she's nearly as artistic as he is* *wonders if since the four archetypes are already filled (he would be the artistic one, Abigail the rebellious troublemaker, Rodney the genius and Marcus the athletic one), she was bound to be a repeat* *muses that maybe Patrice will be the combo of all of them*

*looks around the quiet kitchen, the dishes long since done (that was his job now, since he could do it magically and have it done faster than the dishwasher could) the food put away, everyone relaxing in their respective bedrooms from the post-Easter feast* *echoes of laughter and happiness and solemnity bleed out into the world like slow steam, pockets billowing out in strange intervals to recap the day in this room* *the whole room looks to be slowly consumed by the smoke, some unseen fire spreading underneath and igniting odd chemicals to make coloured clouds...*

*blinks slowly, deliberately* *the kitchen is spotless, clean*

Dean?

*turns his head to see Abigail hugging the doorframe, a concerned look of concentration on her face* *there is still a spot of yellow sugar on her cheek from the marshmellow peep she must have just finished eating*

Yeah, Abby?

*her head tilts as she saunters in, peering at him with an intuitiveness he's not used to seeing from her* *pulls up a chair backwards and faces him, chin dropping onto the backrest as her dark eyes try to cut into him* *sees so much of their mum in her in that moment, the expectant manner that pulls at him, tell him to just get whatever is making him so distant out into the open*

*but then, the concerned aura of color around her shifts suddenly into one of extreme happiness* *whether he caught it before she smashed the pink peep into his mouth or after, it didn't matter; it got the appropriate reaction*

*laughs with her, with the chuckles coming from beyond the doorway* *turns and launches Patrice's egg with brilliant accuracy, shooting both hands into the air when it smashes into something hard* *something that shouts*

*the laughter becomes raucous as Dean shoots up and peers into the corridor to watch Rodney pull off his glasses and wipe the egg from it, then his forehead* *doesn't duck when Rodney takes a handful of hard-boiled egg and launches it back at him, just diverts it with a flick of his wand straight into Marcus*

*five minutes later, the pristine kitchen is covered with egg and pieces of Peep, and all five of the Thomas kids are collapsed onto the floor, eating chocolate eggs* *chocolate was too precious to be artillery *

*lies down on one of the bunks, calves hanging off the entirely-too-short twin bed* *almost comical save for the hands that are folded over his eyes* *isn't trying to sleep so much as to calm himself down after the ten shots of espresso he's imbibed over the last 48 hours* *feels as if his entire body is covered in static electricity...*

*the weight on the floorboard tips him off to the presence in the room* *eyes open under the tent of his fingers, bits of light and colour streaming in*

I'm not asleep, Tonks. You can come in.

Who: Dean and Seamus
When: Friday, afternoon
Where: Order HQ
What: The last duck falls into place.

As if he might as well tell me again so he can get reamed like she did.

Who: Dean and Marcus
When: Friday afternoon
Where: Abertwae Chapel
What: Dean puts his ducks in a row

I'll be there. I'll do what needs done. I always have. I'm not going to stop now.

tacked to Parvati's bedroom door

Parvati,

Marcus is healed up.

What do you need to be ready to scry by Saturday?

-Dean