Many Happy Returns

Many Happy Returns
In Ainmire’s driveway

Ciaran brushes himself off after he rises from the ground. The sunlight blinds him and he squints and blinks trying to make out the figure in front of him. When he can finally focus, Hayes comes into view.

Hayes’ large hand clamps down on Ciaran’s shoulder. “You okay, boss?” 

Ciaran glances down at his shoes and wiggles his feet. He is making sure he is all still there. “Feels like everything is still working,” Ciaran laughs and shakes off Hayes’ hand. “Am I back or just hallucinating?” he adds.

“If you are hallucinating, wouldn’t I be Quinn?” Hayes gives Ciaran a wiry smile. “Or are you in love with me, boss?” He lets out a low chuckle.

Ciaran finally takes in his surroundings and realizes he is outside of his father’s home. He pushes against Hayes’ chest and the huge man stumbles backwards a few steps before collecting himself. Ciaran sneers at him. “In your wildest dreams, Hayes!”

Hayes straightens and runs a hand through his hair. “Sometimes, boss. Sometimes,” he jeers and winks at Ciaran.

“Alright!” Ciaran waves his hand. “Enough! Is Quinn okay?” Ciaran’s brow furrows and worry seeps into his eyes over the amusement.

Concern falls over Hayes’ face. “Her and the baby woke up a few moments ago, but fell back to sleep. Dian Cecht says they are just exhausted, but he didn’t sound very reassuring.” Hayes glances back towards the house and shrugs his shoulders. He lets out a long sigh.

Even though Ciaran has his own reservations regarding Quinn’s and his son’s states, he tries to comfort his old friend. “I am sure if Dian Cecht says they are okay, they are okay?” He begins to walk towards the house. He glances over his shoulder at Hayes. “Come on, let’s go check on the patients.”

The two men head up the long driveway. Their steps quicken as the looming home grows closer. By the time they reach the front door, they have hit a good stride. Both men try to catch their breath as they slam into the door.

Dominique throws the door open and the two men tumble through the door, catching themselves before they hit the floor. “Glad to see your back, young Master.” A grin spreads across Dominique's face. “And with such enthusiasm, too.”

Ciaran rolls his eyes, “You’re not funny, Dom!” He turns back towards the door as Dominique closes it.

“Well, I think I am a laugh riot,” Dominique pauses before he steps in front of the men. “Now, I am assuming you are here to see Lady Quinn?”

Ciaran clenches his hands into fists. His nails dig into the soft flesh of his palms. He cringes at the pain. Dominique’s laissez à faire attitude grates on his nerves. He is about to give the butler a piece of his mind, when Hayes interrupts.

“Thank you for letting us in, Dom.” Hayes says sheepishly as he clears his throat. “We would love to see Quinn.” Hayes steps closer to Ciaran. He pats him reassuringly on the shoulder. Hayes hopes to calm the agitated man down a bit. He then returns his attention to Dominique, “How did you even know we were here, Dom?”

“I can always sense when the young Master is near.” Dominique shoots a teasing glance at Ciaran.

“Cut the crap, Dom, or I will deck you.” Ciaran scowls.

“Such a temper.” The butler continues to tease. “I blame it on his poor home life.”

Ciaran raises his hand and smacks Dominique across the back of his head. The man jerks forward, shakes his head, then laughs with amusement.

“Still so easy to get your goat, Ciaran.” The butler rubs his hand over the back of his head. He bites his upper lip, pondering what to say next. He gives a low chuckle and then reconsiders his words.

“Just lead us to the basement,” Ciaran drops his shoulders and exhales.

The three proceed across the grand entrance and down a side hall. When they reach the elevator at the end of the hall, Dominique presses the button. He then steps away from the door, letting the other two step onto the elevator when it arrives.

“You not coming down with us?” Hayes asks.

“I have a ton of things to do. The castle doesn’t stop just because things go awry.” Dominique steps backwards then turns around. The elevator doors close as he makes his way down the corridor. Hayes and Ciaran watch him disappear.

Hayes looks at Ciaran. He stands rigid in the middle of the elevator. His face reads of preoccupation. Hayes clears his throat. When that does not draw Ciaran’s attention, he snaps his fingers in Ciaran’s ear.

“Hey, boss! You still good?” Hayes frowns.

Ciaran pulls himself from the fog of his thoughts. His glazed eyes focus on Hayes. “Do you think she’s okay, Hayes?” Tears well up but he stifles them back.

“Like you said, if Dian Cecht says she’s okay, she’s okay.” Hayes tries to look certain, but fails.

“But,” Ciaran does not get to finish his thought. The elevator doors open to the sterile hallway of the basement. The sharp fluorescent lights blink out a rhythmic pattern. The smell of antiseptic and bleach wafts heavily into the enclosed space. Ciaran coughs and stares out the open steel doors. 

“Looks like this is our floor,” Hayes extends his arm forward, signaling for Ciaran to exit the elevator. They step onto the bare tile floor. Ciaran flinches as the elevator doors draw shut and let out a loud clapping noise.

Down the hallway, Dian Cecht and Ainmire cease their conversation. The two older men stare at the men frozen at the end of the hall. Trepidation shadows Dian Cecht’s face. He tries to disguise it, but his worry creeps through the mask.

Once the two younger men draw closer, Dian Cecht collects himself and meets them halfway down the hallway. Ainmire follows closely behind.

“We may have a new problem,” Dian Cecht glances towards Quinn’s room as the words tumble from his mouth.