The first thing that Frank realized when he came to was that his head had never felt so swelled. Swelled, exhausted, sore, like he had just run from here to Scotland and back. His arms and legs felt like lead, as if he would never be able to lift them up again because weights upon weights were on them. And his stomach-- it felt like a boiling pot had been resting on it as he slept. This state his body was in might have concerned him if once he opened his eyes they didn't immediately fall to Alice. She simple sight of her sitting next to him caused the last time he had been conscious come slamming back to him.
Frank jumped up, ignoring the pounding pain coming from his forehead while doing so. Where was he, where was he--- Will Jugson. Just the thought of that-- that--- death eater made Frank's temperature rise, and the burning in his chest only expanding faster to the rest of his body. Sitting up stick straight, his gaze on Alice did not loosen in intensity. He knew how he had gotten here, and in this state (after all, his wife was infamous</i> for slipping liquids), but that didn't matter because all of that paled in comparison to the blaringly obvious fact that Jugson had escaped. Because of her.
Frank scowled. "What did you do?" he demanded, his voice anything but one he should be using with anyone, let alone his wife.
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