"'s long as-- y're careful," he mumbles, fumblingly managing to squeeze his brother's hand again. He may be concussed and on his way out of consciousness again, but he does still know his brother-- even if he's not quite catching on to the intricacies of exactly how distressed Regulus is.
He's still fighting to stay awake when the Healer finally comes in, and there's a flicker in his expression when he notes her lack of accompaniment. She fusses over him, frowning over what the diagnostic charms are telling her and maneuver her way around the stubbornly still Regulus.
Soon enough she's got him downing a painkilling potion so that she can lift the numbing spell off of him. She's checking in to see how badly his head injury is making him feel. She's explaining that head injuries are delicate things and they try to avoid doing too much spellwork for fear of getting something wrong.
"We can take the edge off the symptoms, perhaps," she tells him, "But fully making them go away-- It's too risky. We already weren't entirely certain you'd regain proper consciousness and we don't want to cause that to be a threat again."
It makes sense, really. It's still got Sirius grumbling a little; irritated at having to stay in bed a little longer when he's clearly needed by his best friend and brother at least, if not the rest of the war.
"The more you rest now, the faster we'll be able to release you," the Healer chides back in response, "Really, counterintuitive though it may be, you ought to sleep more. The fact you managed to be awake for-- more than a minute is a good sign that you're out of the woods when it comes to going completely comatose. And you really musn't try to get out of bed just yet. The spell says you were clearly in a lot of distress while trying."
That earns a bitter snort out of Sirius as he hums his agreement. Satisfied that he's at least heard the words if not quite planned on listening to them, the Healer makes a few notes before bidding them both farewell.
Sirius slumps a little more back into the pillow, when she goes, the exhaustion he was trying to hide clearly visible now, as his concern for his brother. This time when Sirius squeezes his hand, it's a lot weaker. The flutter of his eyelids indicates he really ought to be heading back into sleep.
"...He d-didn't know," he murmurs again, softer now, "'nd everyone's on edge nowadays. Please don't-- hate each other 'cause of me. Or... blame y'rselves."
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He's still fighting to stay awake when the Healer finally comes in, and there's a flicker in his expression when he notes her lack of accompaniment. She fusses over him, frowning over what the diagnostic charms are telling her and maneuver her way around the stubbornly still Regulus.
Soon enough she's got him downing a painkilling potion so that she can lift the numbing spell off of him. She's checking in to see how badly his head injury is making him feel. She's explaining that head injuries are delicate things and they try to avoid doing too much spellwork for fear of getting something wrong.
"We can take the edge off the symptoms, perhaps," she tells him, "But fully making them go away-- It's too risky. We already weren't entirely certain you'd regain proper consciousness and we don't want to cause that to be a threat again."
It makes sense, really. It's still got Sirius grumbling a little; irritated at having to stay in bed a little longer when he's clearly needed by his best friend and brother at least, if not the rest of the war.
"The more you rest now, the faster we'll be able to release you," the Healer chides back in response, "Really, counterintuitive though it may be, you ought to sleep more. The fact you managed to be awake for-- more than a minute is a good sign that you're out of the woods when it comes to going completely comatose. And you really musn't try to get out of bed just yet. The spell says you were clearly in a lot of distress while trying."
That earns a bitter snort out of Sirius as he hums his agreement. Satisfied that he's at least heard the words if not quite planned on listening to them, the Healer makes a few notes before bidding them both farewell.
Sirius slumps a little more back into the pillow, when she goes, the exhaustion he was trying to hide clearly visible now, as his concern for his brother. This time when Sirius squeezes his hand, it's a lot weaker. The flutter of his eyelids indicates he really ought to be heading back into sleep.
"...He d-didn't know," he murmurs again, softer now, "'nd everyone's on edge nowadays. Please don't-- hate each other 'cause of me. Or... blame y'rselves."