missingthekeep | [for Meredith]

Sean makes a face, reaching up to rub self-consciously at the back of his neck, not facing her. He was planning on taking his shirt off and laying down, but if that's the way she's going to be, maybe letting her see exactly the state he's in isn't such a good idea. "This is nothin'," he says with sigh.

"This is not nothing," Meredith says, shaking her head. For the moment, she's too relieved to be all that annoyed with him, but she hates the way he acts like nothing's wrong when she can see perfectly well that's not so. Leaning in the doorway, she sighs and waits, her head against the frame. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Meredith, I'm fine," Sean says in what he hopes is a reassuring tone of voice, though the way he winces slightly as he sits down on the bed probably isn't helping his case much.

Meredith shakes her head, making her way over to him, hands moving to his shoulders as she leans in to get a better look. Even frustrated, she presses a kiss to the top of his head, relief still lingering. Whatever's happened, he's still in one piece. That doesn't make everything okay, though. "Fine is not an answer."

"Pretty sure it is," Sean says, not actually trying to be difficult. Honestly, it strikes him as kind of funny, right now. "Ye asked if I was a'right, I said 'm foine, that's an answer, innit?"

"Yes," Meredith allows, frowning as she stands up straight again. "And I also asked what happened and you ignored the question." The more he does so, the less inclined she is just to let it go, for that matter.

"So sue a fella fer wantin' ta handle one thing at a time," Sean says, and this time, he is deliberately hedging. "Jus' got into a bit of a scrape, is all."

"With who?" Meredith asks. At least he seems to be alright for the most part, aside from what are probably going to be some nasty bruises, but that makes her more annoyed somehow. If it's not serious, he should be able to answer her. "Over what?"

"Nobody, nothin'," Sean says, already sick of talking about this as makes a few haphazard attempts at kicking his shoes off. "Jus' some guy, what does it matter?"

Meredith steps away from him, shaking her head at him. "It matters," she says. "You're hurt. You got hurt over nothing? You're not gonna tell me who?" He can be as irritated with her as he likes; she still can't think of one good reason she should just let this go.

"I'm nae hurt," Sean says, petulant. Roughed up, sure. Physically worse for the wear, maybe. But hurt is such a loaded word. "I don't e'en know him, 'twas jus' a thing that happened an' now it's over, so what's the big deal?" he asks exasperatedly, leaning forward off the bed to try and catch her hand to pull her back over to him.

"People don't just get into a fight over nothing with strangers," Meredith says, stumbling a little as she moves back toward him. "You are hurt and you could have been hurt worse." Maybe in the grand scheme of things, it is nothing, but that doesn't make it any less troubling that he could do this or just expect her to brush it off or that he could have been badly injured and not have a reason for it. She's wound up enough over the lingering idea of losing him that she can't deal with this one, stepping back again without trying to pull free yet.

"'M sorry," Sean mumbles, for worrying her if not for getting into a fight in the first place. No matter how much he might regret it in the morning, he hasn't yet started on that. He's still trying to tug her closer. "An' I wouldnae've gotten hurt worse, I know what I'm doin'."

"Stop it," Meredith says, refusing to budge now. There's a part of her that wants nothing more than to let him pull her closer, to hold on and not let go until she feels like less of a basket case for worrying about him, but it's overshadowed by a flash of anger. "I don't care if you know what you're doing, I want to know why you were doing it. I didn't know where you were or if something had happened to you and I don't know what's happening now. The least you can do is give me a straight answer."

Sean looks up at her for a moment before he finally drops her hand with a sigh. "What's happenin' now is that ye're pissed off at me o'er nothin' an' I thought the hard part o' me night was over. Honestly, there was no why to't, things got said an' it jus' sorta happened. I said I'm sorry, what more d'ye want?" It's not that whole silly set of rules that's keeping from just telling her, but rather the fact that he's pretty sure it would only raise a whole new set of questions out of her. He just wants this conversation to be over.

"Fine," Meredith says, lifting both hands in defeat, "if I'm what's making tonight difficult, I'll just go away. I'm sorry I asked." Turning on her heel, she walks out, headed for her office. Maybe she should just let it go — this isn't that, she knows that, this is making another problem — but this isn't nothing and she can't stick around to pretend it is, least of all if he's going to return her concern with that.

"Ach, Meredith!" Sean sharply calls before throwing himself back onto the bed with a groan. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he stays like that for long seconds, just listening to her leave, until he reluctantly drags himself to his feet and goes after her. "Dinnae be like that."

"Like what?" Meredith asks, turning around to face him, though it's tempting just to close the door behind her. "You said I was the hard part, so I made it easy." That might not be exactly what he said, but it's close enough. It's how it feels anyway.

"Ye ken what'd make it e'en easier? Nae stormin' off in a huff," Sean says automatically, too out of it to regret much of anything that comes out of his mouth. "That's nae what I said, jus'... will ye come on back?"

"No," Meredith says, "not if you're not going to listen to me." She's not cut out for this life. It's far from the first time she's thought it, but it still hurts every time. Sitting around at home, waiting to know what's going on, to be the last to know, she isn't meant for this. "You were gone. You go out drinking and getting into fights and I don't know what's going on, I don't know if you're coming back, and I'm not supposed to be worried? I'm not allowed to be concerned?"

Sean closes his eyes for a moment, reaching up to press the ball of his hand against his forehead as he lets that sink in, and when he looks back up at her, his expression softens and his words come slower, more deliberate. "I'm listenin' t'ye. An' ye had every right ta be concerned. That's why I apologized." Trying again, he reaches for her arm once more. "C'mon."

Meredith hesitates, not wanting to capitulate so easily when he's made her so mad, not wanting to fight when he's done enough of that for both of them tonight. Letting him take hold of her hand this time, she sighs and follows. "You can't just act like it's nothing," she says, quieter now. "It's not nothing to me."

Sean wants to press the issue, to tell that it is to him, but he holds his tongue and just heads back to the bedroom. "Okay," he says, quieter as well. "That's more like it."

Meredith shakes her head, still uncomfortable with all of this, as much with her own behavior as his. The vague explanation might be true, but it makes her uneasy all the same. "Sean, I'm serious," she says. "You could've been hurt a lot worse. You're not the only person around here who knows how to fight. How bad is it?"

"I told ye, I'm fine," Sean says, as reassuringly as he can. His tongue darts briefly over his split lip, still smarting, and he's sure he won't know the full extent of his injuries until tomorrow when he's really feeling them, but it's all certainly nothing she needs to worry herself over. "Jus' a li'l banged up, is all."

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