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"Thank you." He didn't get the feeling that she was entirely happy with the idea, but she wasn't fighting him for now. Sipping his wine Bereck gave a little sigh and then yawned, leaning against Alina again. "Not for a while I fear; I will have to build up to it. It's... going to take time to adapt to how I am now. There was never going to be a very good outcome when the only healers around for the first few days after I was wounded were a pair of apprentices. I'm still a little amazed that I'm alive to be frank, especially given she stitched me up without using any redwort."

He couldn't be angry with Becka; if she hadn't been there he probably would have died, and she had not been prepared for such a task. She didn't really have the temperament for trauma... and a small, nasty part of himself that he didn't like very much wondered what the sharp, bossy, hardy Benden apprentice might have done if she had been first on the scene. She had the advantage of age over his own apprentice as much as anything to be fair; more experience and... well, Becka just wasn't cut out for trauma. It wasn't her fault.

Bereck gave a tiny shrug and pulled Alina closer. "I was... I was dying, Star. I imagine the only thing on her mind was stopping the bleeding. Being logical in a situation like that isn't natural to be frank; it takes training to overcome your emotions, to be able to lock them away and just work. She's sixteen, and she doesn't have the temperament for trauma healing; I'd never recommend it to her as a path for when she makes journeywoman. She did her best for me Lina. I'm alive. What more can I ask, given the circumstances?" He could ask to be able to walk without a cane. He could ask not to be in pain.

He didn't want to start thinking like this because Becka had tried and he knew she felt guilty that things hadn't come out better for him. She blamed herself. So would he in her situation. That was because it was her fault, and in the hypothetical world would have been his. Everyone failed sometimes, and when you were a healer that had consequences that stayed with you throughout your life.

Bereck sighed again and closed his eyes passing his glass to Sanguine so that he could wrap both arms around Alina. "I know my Star. I know." It wasn't like he liked things the way they were. He would give a great deal to rid himself of the weakness and pain but he couldn't. "In the heat of the moment.... She did her best. It's not something you get to plan, make a second draft of and have double checked. I wish it was." He would have a lot less on his conscience if healers got do-overs.

Bereck kissed Alina's temple and rested his head against hers. "She tried. She feels guilty that she didn't do more. I can't hold this against her. Even if she had used redwort I wouldn't have come out well, she just doesn't have the experience to make good sutures especially in so many huge wounds." He still felt depressed just thinking about it all, and wished it hadn't been Becka there. He could have done with a master, or at least a journeyman. There was no changing it though, he was just going to have to learn to live with what he had.

He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, clutched her closer. His side started to flare warningly at him but he didn't care just now. He needed to be close. He hated this... this thing that was him now. He didn't care how the scars looked. He didn't regret how he had got them. What he couldn't bear was what they did to him, and how they made others view him.

"It's alright," he managed to mumble eventually, freeing one arm to reach up and stroke Alina's hair rhythmically. "You don't have to apologise. I... I don't like this either. It's hard. I wish... I wish things had been different." He hadn't felt old before the revolution, not save in moments of extreme exhaustion and desolation at some failure or other. He felt old now, old and weak and that terrified him. He had to get rid of that feeling, but he had no idea how to do so.

Oh no, and now he felt like crying or at least going... wobbly. "I think you might overestimate my amazing levels," he mumbled after a short pause, sounding a little less than calm and cool himself. "I just... do my best, and I have to carry on. There's too much for me to do for me to do anything else. If that made sense. I think it more or less did but the point is that...." What had the point been? Hello wine. "I love you." That would do nicely as a substitute.

He was glad when she relaxed a bit; it meant he could too and his side was really starting to hurt. He hoped it would calm down now. He didn't need one of those awful moments when it overwhelmed him; not now, not in front of her.

Smiling a little tightly Bereck brushed the backs of his fingers down Alina's cheek. "Well I've... always been good with my hands I suppose. And you are biased. I... you are though. I mean, you are lovely. And everything good and... I don't know. It's... well. I. It's nice to hear that somebody... well you know, thinks things like that. Even if you are biased. And you're amazing you know, I don't say that often enough. You are. You've been through far more for me than I have for you." He felt foolish, foolish but happy. He had missed that fluttery feeling, the feeling that could make his cheeks flush and flitters dance in his stomach and his heart race. He had missed her.

"It's alright," he murmured, face a little tight as he sank against the back of the cot. "It wasn't you," he added, "I should know better than to tense like that." The pain wasn't easing off, but it wasn't getting worse either. Hopefully if he stayed relaxed it would calm sooner rather than later.

The kiss certainly helped with the relaxing bit.

Bereck smiled a little, eyes closed, and allowed his head to drop back to rest on top of the back rest. His face still looked a little taught, but he appeared happy at the moment in spite of it. "I suppose you're right. You're the people that matter." So long as they liked him nobody else mattered on a personal level. Professional was different of course, and there was always room for professional improvement. There was always room for personal improvement too come to that.... But nevermind that for now.

"Oh," Bereck opened his eyes and lifted his head again, "you will never guess what I had my firelizards find yesterday.... I want you to try to guess regardless though."

Bereck's lips curved down and his brows knit. "I would really...really hope that nobody made any judgements of me during that time. I was...." Delirious. Confused. Vulnerable. "....Not myself."

Oh.

Hello head.

A smile returned to Bereck's face; he rescued Alina's glasses and passed them to Sanguine with one hand, stroked her hair with the other. "No no, not clothes... Oh, no, I tell I bit of a lie; I still had that old silk scarf you gave me as a glasses cloth, never found anything better. That wasn't what I was talking about though...." She looked lovely with her hair in a mess, smiling and squinting myopically up at him. How had he gone so many turns without her, without anybody? He really had isolated himself, lost himself in work and persuaded himself that he needed nothing else save for Aleck and Berath. Maybe he needed this too. He certainly wanted it, wanted her, wanted intimacy and... and that was alright. He could want things for himself; it didn't have to compromise his work.

"...What was I saying?" Bereck blinked, realising that he'd just been looking down at her in silence for some moments. "Oh!" he brightened and his brows raised as he recalled. "Yes, of course! The firelizards. Well, I sent them to Malvren to find a cylindrical old friend who needed to be returned to his rightful owner."