She wouldn't stop crying - Sean had tried everything. Although her cry wasn't loud it had been enough to worry the March Hare who had no idea what was bothering her. He tried rocking her, he had tried feeding her and changing her but nothing had seemed to be working. A text to Hatter hadn't been answered and Sean had really no idea what to do. The only one he could think of to turn to had been Liam, a soft knock had been against his door as he stood outside with her, waiting for him to answer.
He hadn’t been sleeping exactly, but he hadn’t really been awake either. More like dozing off as he attempted to read, thoughts adrift between the blurred words on the pages and the noisome thoughts drifting through his mind. He’d just closed his eyes, ready to fall into true sleep when there came a quiet, unobtrusive knock at his door.
For a moment he lay there, blinking bottle green eyes as he tried to determine if he’d really heard anything-
It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d hallucinated something like that, and he knew it most certainly wouldn’t be the last.
He nearly leapt from the bed when he heard the crying babe. Either it was Sean or Hatter or something had gone terribly, terribly awry and it was Balthazaar standing there, holding his adopted niece. Pulling on a pair of what he hoped were clean trousers, he nearly fell to the door in his haste to reach it.
His eyes were already wild with concern as he all but ripped it open, running a hand through his messy locks. Despite his concern he was relieved to see Sean standing there, and not the King. As sleepy as he may have been before, the elder Hatter was now very much awake.
"Sean? Sean, what are you doing down here?" Here meaning the Infirmary, Liam and Hatter’s first place of residence upon their arrival at the Keep. Hatter had since been moved into his own chambers, as per his request (or demand, really, as the Man Who Knows had become the King’s proverbial lap-dog and now had no need of requesting anything), but Liam had come to grow fond of the place.
It was quiet, and bright during the day- unlike the rest of the gloomy castle and it’s cheerless decor- and best of all nobody really came there, not anymore.
Which left Liam to his peace and paintings, when he wasn’t tending to his brother or spending time with Alice and his new mates on the Royal Guard.
He seemed to have become quite the homebody after nigh on two-hundred years of being dead.
Liam didn’t wait for an answer from the March Hare, ushering he and the crying baby inside with whispered pleas of haste. He waited for a moment, eyes checking both ends of the hall leading to his chamber so as to make sure the man hadn’t been followed. Even despite his knowledge of Sean’s clandestine ability to go wherever he wanted to, while somehow avoiding even the slightest bit of unwanted attention. He’d snuck into his club that way hadn’t he, so long ago, when they’d first met.
Never could be too careful, though.
"Are you mad?" The elder sibling demanded, shutting the door behind them and locking all three deadbolts. He even went so far as the put the chain on, just in case. "As lovely as it is to see you, you do realize how dangerous it was to come don’t you? You might’ve been seen! Or worse, caught!"
Tia’s cries had been muffled by the blanket Sean had so diligently wrapped her up in, but now that they were safely inside she’d gone to howling like an Oyster after being cracked. Liam winced, shuffling stacks of sketches and books so Sean could take a seat on his bed. All the other furniture was preoccupied.
"What’s wrong with Teebee? I’ve never heard her cry this hard— She’s not teething already, is she?" His voice went distant as he went off to put a kettle on, habit as it was when he had a guest. Though, from the sounds of things, the Hare might have been in need of something a tad stronger.
"What’s that tea called that you’re so bloody fond of?" He called, leaning out to frown quizzically into his bedchamber. "Orange Poker or something, wasn’t it?" Better to get Sean and the little one comfortable before jumping into the reason for their visit.
Unless, of course, it was their discomfort that bade them to come calling.
