“Hey, come here,” Davey said, pulling him in closer. It wasn’t the first hug he’d given today despite Healer’s orders, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. They could keep him in bed, encourage him to sleep when he needed it, and insist he spend as little time upright as possible. They could poke and prod, insist he stay still to not reaggravate his injuries, and regulate everything medical about him. He would be a charming, model patient, but they would not take hugs from him.
It was impossible to ignore how weakly he was pulling on Amos’s arm, but the intent was clear. When he was satisfied with the distance, he wrapped an arm around him–still careful of his left side considering the how tender it was–and refused to let him go. He wasn’t sure if Amos would know the rules or care; a Healer could walk right in, and would have an easier time separating them if they were being held together by a permanent sticking charm.
This was Amos, after all. His friend who he’d been longing to see and surely watched him go down. He heard he had come, but he didn’t believe it until he was standing right in front of him. Or hunched next to him, but semantics. What mattered was that he was here, already having Davey smiling through the pain and painkillers that made sleep so much harder to shake.
It was a remarkably familiar position. Holding his loved ones close and offering them comfort, promises that he was okay, was his go to. Davey had little interest in the concerned fawning. He knew he was alright; well, he knew he would be alright with a bit of time. He had Healers and a whole support staff of those close to him to ensure that. Of course, he wanted to be there for them in return. He never wanted to worry anyone, and this time, he hadn’t even set out for this. Not really. Not in the way he once had.
“I’m okay,” he said quietly, running a hand up and down his back. He wished he could hug him properly–both arms, holding him tightly, one to spare for this–but the twisting motion proved awful time and time again. Some of what they said was true. He’d fight through a lot of pain to have this moment, and he was, but he didn’t want to worry anyone by putting pressure on his heart. The true concern here. “I swear, I’m alright. I don’t know how much they told you, but that much is true.”
“I take it you saw?” he said, trying to lighten things ever so slightly. “I knew it was coming. I didn’t know this was coming, but I hope you’re not letting them say off guard.” He let him go then, not pulling away far. He was tired, he wanted to see his face while he was here. He wanted to just be Amos and Davey, carefree and easy, without blowing over his feelings. It was a line he was too familiar with treading. “Did we win?” He knew they hadn’t. He’d been told; not much, granted, but he heard.
There was nothing unusual about their version of comfort. Physical affection hadn’t always been the first thing Amos turned to, and in most situations, he would flirt his way out of it. When it came to Davey, he got used to the platonic nature of his touches pretty quickly. And when Davey reached out to embrace him in a hug, Amos’ first reaction was to lean into it. But he drew back for a moment, only to look over his shoulder to see if there was Healer nearby. He knew strenuous movements would not be recommended, and the last thing he wanted was to be kicked out by one of the medical staff for breaking rules.
However, when it looked reasonably safe, Amos moved into his arms as much as he could as to not put any pressure on Davey. His friends grip was weak, but that was to be expected. He only wrapped one of his arms around him, and his hold wasn’t as tight as he would like, but he at least wanted to try and not make it any worse. The whole situation was unfamiliar to him. Sure, he knew his best friend was accident prone, and yes, he’d been in the Hospital Wing a couple of times to keep him company. But this seemed serious.
If there was any other reason they were cautious, Amos didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know how badly his friend was suffering, especially when there was nothing he could do except sit and keep him company until he was forced to return to Hogwarts. Carefully, he pressed his head into his shoulder. “Damn idiots stopped me from getting here sooner.” The Hufflepuff informed him in a murmur. “They only gave in because I didn’t shut up. I mean, I really didn’t shut up.”
It was true. Amos badgered everyone he could about letting him leave to go to Mungo’s. His only solace in the end was Emma Vanity. But after their drink, he had returned to his continuous pestering at any authority to let him into Mungo’s. Because if his best friend was lying in a hospital bed, there was no way in hell that Amos wasn’t practically lying on it with him.
While Amos could have continued to hug him for hours, just to prove that Davey was, at the very least, alive, he didn’t protest as Davey pulled away from him. Even as he fell backwards onto his visitors chair, he still reached out to place a hand on his arm, mostly to prove the warmth was real. “They didn’t tell me anything.” Amos said with a grumble, glaring in the direction of the hallway. “Not family, not your partner. Not yet anyway.” The last sentence holding some humour. If Davey was going to attempt to lighten the conversation, so would he.
Amos chose not to answer the question about whether or not he saw, instead casting his eyes downwards. Of course he saw, and those few seconds had been in constant replay in his head since it had happened. Thoughts of whether Amos could have done something to prevent it. He’d even lashed out at the rest of the team for not being close by. He apologised after, of course, but those moments hit him hard. Instead, he moved on. “You know we didn’t win, mate. We’re a pretty shit team without our Captain.”
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