As Fred slipped his arms around him, George felt a little more stable. His Twin's presence always seemed to have that affect on him. He was still worried but knowing Fred was there helped anchor him and made him more focused. He closed his eyes as they apparated, trying to push the worry aside, opening them again once they were at St. Mungo's.
George just nodded at the soft words, knowing them to be true. He didn't know the extent of the damage both players took but guessed it was pretty bad. "Wait here." He parroted a little, looking over to the welcome desk. Tig wasn't working, the old woman that sat there looked up in a bored manner at the Twins and then back down to her paperwork.
"No Tig." He murmured softly, a brief look of disappointment on his face. Tig would have been a welcoming distraction rather than the quiet cranky old woman who probably wouldn't let them in.
There was a bustling in the back signalling the players arrival through an emergency entrance that skipped past the main entrance for regular patients. One of the perks of being famous, George guessed - no waiting to get healed up. The woman behind the reception desk grabbed the new files that magically appeared on her desk - one with Marcus' name and one with Oliver's - and moved them to trays labelled with the appropriate wards for their injuries.
George nudged Fred, unsure of what to do next. He fell easily into the role of follower around his Twin - the only person he'd obey without putting up a fuss.
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