Henry was about to say more - about how he had been terrified that if Beelzebub had killed him, they might never know what happened to him, but the doctor came back in. And maybe that was a conversation better had at home anyway. "I love you," Henry whispered to his husband, nuzzling against Iestyn's face. Then he pulled away to let the doctor finish his job.
"We'll get this last finger wrapped up and then we'll get you out of here, Mr Ceredig," the doctor said. "We've sent the x-rays on to your doctor so he can handle the treatment from here. And I'm going to prescribe some painkillers for you. Luckily they were all clean breaks, so they should heal fine in about six to eight weeks.
Henry groaned, because yes healing fine was great, but six to eight weeks with no hands?! "Thank you," he said, anyway, because he was ever polite. "I really appreciate it, doctor."
They trooped together, the three of them, back out to the waiting room where Gabriel - bless him - was still waiting. "I'm free to go," Henry said, but he sat down next to the angel anyway, and leaned his head against Gabriel's shoulder. "Thank you. For saving my life."