Cauterized

[Desmond DeGraff]

Desmond was well aware that he could be loud, overbearing, and easily able to cause a scene. He would fully admit that he should not remain in that room with Dunstan, due to the fact that he would hover over the doctor at all times, breathing down his neck and asking him what he was doing, why he was doing it, and what everything was for. It was most likely Desmond’s fault for why they were all being tossed out of the room.

He nodded to his wife, forcing a small reassuring smile as she offered to keep him updated on any changes. He kissed her and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Desmond looked between his sons and daughter upon exiting. Rowan was leaning against a wall, arms folded over his broad chest. He knew what was most likely going on through his stepson’s head. He blamed himself for Cara and Muriel’s death, and if Dunny didn’t make it through this, he knew he would blame himself for that too.

He let out a heavy sigh and was about to say something when he overheard Cian ask Arya if she was sure she was okay. It was enough to get his attention, though he waited for Arya’s response to her brother before he would act on it.

“No-- It’s no one’s fault here. Do you understand?” He spoke in that stern voice he typically used when he really meant something and was being completely serious. He turned to Rowan first, “Dunny is still alive because of you.” Desmond then turned to Cian, “you were doing your job in getting others to safety.” He sighed and shook his head. “So both of you stop blaming yourselves right now.” He made a gesture with his hand in a slashing motion as if to put an emphasis to his words. “I won’t have it, do you hear?”

He stepped over to Arya and gently took her face into his hands and looked her over. “My beautiful daughter-- why did you not tell anyone you were going?” It looked as if the man were about to start crying, and his voice cracked. He had already lost one daughter--and for his youngest daughter to continue living so carelessly-- It was going to give him a damn heart attack. Desmond shook his head and pulled her into another embrace, kissing the top of her head. “Oh, I love you so much.” He reluctantly released Arya before turning to his other sons. “I love all of you… I hope you know that.”

Then he turned back to Arya. “And were you hurt, I hear?” He started to look her over. “Where? Who hurt you? What happened? Tell me everything!  I'll kill whoever laid a hand on you!” Despite the frantic-sounding questions, Desmond actually appeared calm and quiet, so as not to cause a scene and distract the doctor inside the room. He looked at Cian and noticed the rip in his shirt where he had been grazed by the arrow. “And you’ve been hurt, too!?” Then he remembered Rowan saying he had been injured as well, so he quickly turned, eyeing the man and noticing the ripped and burnt fabric of his sleeve, and the red and black skin underneath. He winced and began looking around quickly. “Someone!” He began pacing around in search of someone before he started calling out. “Nurse! Someone! My babies are hurt, come help, please!  They need help!” Okay--Now he was starting to make a scene.

Rowan lifted a hand and ran it down his face before shaking his head. He couldn’t help but smirk a little at the old man’s display. For a man who had such an intimidating reputation and could be very rough around the edges--clearly, his family was his weakness, and he apparently wasn’t ashamed to show it.