A/N: Next chapter!

Your Favorite House Boot Camp - #5 (fool), Gryffindor

Character Trait Boot Camp - #37 (reckless), Bill Weasley

Board Game Challenge - #94 (Write about the pieces falling into place.)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #451 (Crazy in Love)

If You Dare Challenge - #611 (Hospital)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I don't know why I'm so scared. I stumble through the halls of the hospital, falling on the wall for support. I can barely stand on my own, but I have to get to her. I have to see my wife. My mouth is wet, and when I touch a finger to my lips and draw it back in front of me, I realize that my lips are smeared with blood.

I ignore the increasing pain in my chest and keep going. I must see her. I must see her. I must— My stomach spears with pain, but I ignore it. I hurt all over but that doesn't even compare to not being able to see her. I left in the middle of the night to go from my cosy hospital bed to hers, because no one was watching me then. Mum hadn't figured out the shifts just yet, so it was the only time I was left truly alone.

"Mr. Weasley?" It's my Healer. He's been looking for me; he knows where I'm trying to go. "Mr. Weasley, this really isn't healthy. I must insist that you go back to your room."

I stop moving and slump into the wall, hiding myself behind a cart of medical supplies. I'm not going anywhere. Maybe if I stay absolutely still and quiet, then he will leave. But unfortunately, my breathing is so raspy and obvious that he can follow its obnoxious sound. My chest is heaving for each breath by the time he reaches me, and he shines an incredibly bright wand in my face. I raise an arm to block my eyes from the piercing glow. "Mr. Weasley?"

I try to stand but find that I am too weak to do so. My teal hospital gown clings to my chest, sticky with sweat. My head hurts so terribly that I have to grind the heel of my palm into the side of my skull in order to dull it. "Mr. Weasley, what—"

"Want...to...see..." I gasp, and then vomit all over his shoes. As I fall forward, lightheaded and aching, I realize that the enormous amount of body fluids that I heaved up was not vomit after all, but blood.

"Oh, Merlin," my Healer says, and then he kneels besides me, shooting a spell into the air and shouting down the corridor for assistance. He smoothly undoes the back of my gown and pulls it off of me; for what reason, I do not know. He pushes me back against the wall, moving my arms away from my stomach so that he can get a view. "Merlin's balls," is his reaction as a herd of Healers clatters down the hallway. "Look what you've done." Dazed and nauseous, my head drops to my chest, and I can see exactly what he means. My stomach is strangely sunken in and a dark reddish purple color is slowly spreading across it. I attempt to climb to my feet once more, but only end up collapsing into the arms of my Healer. I grip his forearms, meet his eyes, and then cough blood into his face.

"You're an idiot," says Charlie. He and Harry are doing a shift together watching me. They're supposed to go until midnight, when they'll switch with Hermione and Mum. Ron, Ginny, and Gabrielle are watching Fleur, Audrey and Angelina are keeping watch over Dominique, and Percy and Dad are taking care of Louis. George and Fleur's parents are at home, babysitting Victoire. Fleur's family had just arrived this morning, when Angelina and George had just shown up for a shift to realize that I had tried to walk all the way to Fleur's room and was then in the care of five Healers who were trying to wake me up and keep me from bleeding out. "What were you doing out in the middle of the bloody night, roaming the hallways like a fool?"

Fleur, I write, because it's very simple.

Charlie rolls his eyes and doesn't even bother to look at the whiteboard; he knows the answer to his question. "I know that you went for Fleur, stupid. But what were you thinking? You could've asked for someone to take you, or anything."

"He's right," Harry agrees. He adjusts his glasses. "Someone could've gotten a wheelchair for you. We'd have had no problem with that."

"But nearly killing yourself trying to get to her? That's plain stupid, Bill. You started bleeding internally as soon as we found you. If the Healer hadn't gotten there in time..." Charlie's rubbing his forehead, like he always does when gets nervous. "Merlin, Bill, what were you thinking?"

I start writing, but Charlie tears it from my hands.

"Stop writing! Just listen to me for one second!"

Harry moves towards my brother as if about to get up and comfort him, but then sits back down again as Charlie paces before my bed. "Look, Bill, I don't know what's gotten into you, but it still doesn't mean that you can go and scare everyone like that! You weren't back into your bed and Mum was nearly going mad with worry when they got her up in the middle of the bloody night—" My head sweeps me with a wave of pain that takes my breath away. I cringe, hunching over as Harry and Charlie's words become unintelligible to me...Bill...Bill...Bill... "Bill!"

Charlie's face looms before mine, frowning. "Bill? You there?"

I don't know why the pain isn't going away. It's usually gone by now.

"Something wrong?" My Healer is standing in the doorway, arms folded, clearly displeased. "Bill?"

I have to see her. I have to see my wife. I sit up (even though it hurts) and swing my legs over the edge of the bed. I stand.

"Whoa, hey!" He stops me, pressing his hand against my chest and forcing me to sit back down. "Bill, can you hear me?"

I have to see her. I have to see Fleur. I have to see Dom. I have to— I write it down for him... I have to see her.

"What is this?"

"What did he write?"

My Healer snatches the whiteboard from my brother-in-law and reads it. "Merlin's beard," he says, just as Charlie asks, "What?"

The whiteboard gets passed around, and I want it back. I grab for it, but I'm going in the wrong direction; I fall to the side, my head dizzy and nausea rising in my throat. "Bill? Can you hear me?"

"He didn't write any intelligible words on here," says Harry, who now has the whiteboard in his hands. He touches my Healer's shoulder. "He wrote nonsense words up here. He wrote—"

"Don't you think I know that?" he snaps. He turns back to me, checking every inch of me. He spots the unnaturally pale color of my skin, the redness of my blue eyes, the way I sway as even as I sit, the sheen of sweat over me. "Mr. Weasley, when was the last time Bill went to the toilet?"

"What—sir, I—"

"I'm asking you a bloody question! When was the last time your brother took a piss?"

"Er, he hasn't, not yet, but—"

The Healer swears and picks up my hand from the bed. "Blue..." he whispers, and all the pieces seem to fall into place. Then his hands are on my face, on my chin and my scars and then near my forehead near my bed-hair, his fingers prying my eyelids open to fully see my left eye. He examines that one and swears again under his breath. "His left pupil's blown," he growls, and he kicks something under the bed that allows it to roll. He shoots a familiar spell from his wand and shoves my bed to the door, widening the doorway with a nonverbal charm.

I collapse back onto the bed, the pain in my head so intense that I can't even bear to open my eyes.

"Out of the way! Healer Azikiwe, tell Liu we need a Healing Room right now!"

"All the HRs are full. We don't—"

"My patient's about to go into hypovolemic shock in the next twenty seconds! If you don't open up an HR for me in that time then I swear to Merlin I'll cut him open right here in the corridor!"

A/N: It'll take me a while to post the next chapter, but stick with me! Please follow, favorite, and review!