Her relationship with her husband had been a rocky one from beginning up until this point and there were times when Moira couldn't possibly understand why she married him in the first place. He always had a way of squelching those thoughts though with a kiss or one of his rare smiles that could warm her being to the core, and whenever she saw him laid out emotionally (she'd never seen him this injured) she couldn't help but relent any anger and be a good wife for him. Of course it was never that cut and dry and there usually included quite a bit of shouting and an occasional slap but the result was always the same-she forgave and forgot. Moira knew Rabastan knew she'd forgive and forget but she did so because she was a good person and she refused to think that he was a bad enough one to take full advantage of that, that perhaps he really did pine for her forgiveness. It was farfetched, especially considering just what she knew about him but if she didn't believe it then she'd possibly go off the deep end.

But the fear she currently felt was more than she cared for and was possibly worse than any emotional damage Rabastan could cause her. Her husband was a bit whiney but he hated hospitals and to an extent was a very proud man. If he had a scratch and knew he could get some sort of sympathy or pity sex from Moira he'd complain until he was blue in the face but he'd never allow something like this to happen if it was in his control…Not even for sex. He had to be hurt if he wouldn't even cajole her when she was on the brink of tears.

His touch was light as her fingers fit into his palm, the calloused touch of his own digits reminding her that he was her husband and not just some frail, beaten form. She squeezed his hand lightly, the first of most likely several tears falling down her cheek.

"Things didn't go as planned…Unforeseen…"

"Don't move, darling," she murmured, placing her free hand on the one he'd tried to wave in his typical manner. She didn't understand what he meant by 'things' and 'unforeseen' but she wasn't going to pry just yet especially when she didn't know what kind of potions they'd given him and he might be a bit loopy.

"Look, I can't stay here, someone put a glamour my arm,"

She gasped, stepping back but still holding his other hand, the pale skin glaring at her. Words simply couldn't express the happiness that raced through her even if she knew it was just an enchantment, she didn't even care to think about why he'd said it just yet. His arm was bare and clean and not tainted by that hideous mark that she had come to loathe quite a bit. It was remarkable to see it gone.

"But it won't last."

As his grip tightened, what he'd said sunk in and the sadness in her eyes seemed to fade and she pulled her hand from his. "I wish it would, Rabastan," she murmured, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "How do you know it won't last? What if whoever it was that did it made it permanent?" Part of her knew that probably wasn't possible but she wanted it to be. She wanted all of it to go away. She wanted him to stop sneaking around and lying to her. She told him everything about her life. He knew where she was almost one hundred percent of the time and if he didn't then it was because it was something last minute. But it was a double-edged sword; she didn't want to know what he was doing when he snuck out all the time. It would break her heart to know that the horrible things happening in their world were partly caused by him. He probably deserved what had happened to him that night.

"Should I find a Healer then to release you?" she asked, turning away to look out the dark window. It was remarkable how he could insight such a change of emotions in her. She still did care how he got hurt and whether he was going to be alright, but she wasn't feeling quite so much sympathy now that she understood that perhaps this accident hadn't been caused by his job at the Ministry.