mrs c

"Yeah, well, it's been a few years since I swung a hammer-" Since he needed to, anyway. Despite the sassy retort, the wipe of her hand had him leaning his head into her hand, the bloodied mess that he was melted in her grasp and let her lead the way to their bathroom, tired chuckles making their way out. "After the ho-ho-holy shit show I just went through," There's a wheeze of a cough that let itself out before he continued. "I'll tell you I love you as many times as you want." As they settled in to the bathroom and peeled away the layers of his coat and uniform, he was so happy to see her again, even with their troubles as of late, his own Christmas wish came true. He didn't care that he was in pain or in the state he was, he loved her. "I'm just happy to see you again, Mary. I didn't know if I'd make it back."

what would she have done if she had lost him? how close had the love of her life come to dying, tonight? mary knew that he was a force to be reckoned with, but the people who did this to him better feel lucky they're dead, because if she got her hands on them, they would see wrath the likes of which they had never seen before. but she didn't need to fight, thank god; she needed to lick her husband's wounds. 'trust me, i would have dragged you back here, alive or dead,' she's teasing him as she occupies her hands with collecting alcohol and bandages, wetting a cloth with water before starting on the cuts on his face. eyes glance down into his, her own softening a bit at the sight of him. 'you always did look good covered in blood,' cheeky grin is given to him, free hand lifting to pull up his chin, getting a better look at him. 'i'm glad you're okay,' mary leans down to kiss his forehead, ignoring the metallic taste it leaves on her lips. 'i love you. even if you scare the hell out've me, sometimes,'

"Honey, I- Shit." As he walked through their door, he tried so hard to stay up and at'em in the midst of pain. "I'm home- I got Skullcrusher, but it was a little late." Finally, finally he's made it home from the most eventful Christmas of his entire life. The only thing on his mind was his wife, not the swarm of workers and elves, only the one in his home, whose had his heart for 1,100 years in a row. Who, of which, he could see rushing over and he all but almost crushed her within his arms. "I love you. Have I told you that, lately?" He's been waiting all night to say that.

god dammit, she was worried about him. it didn't matter how rocky their marriage got, mary would always care for santa. and they may have been fighting, but that wouldn't stop her from sensing when he was in danger, and sending him his favorite weapon ( even if it showed up after he needed it ). when he comes stumbling into their home, she can't help but to run up to him, trying and failing to assess his injuries before he pulled her into a tight embrace. 'jesus, you smell like a campfire,' mrs. claus scrunches her nose, but squeezes her husband gently, pulling away with a furrowed brow. 'shit, nicky, i haven't seen you this fucked up in years,' hand raises to wipe a spot of blood from his cheek, though there is still plenty left on his face. a small smile forms at the i love you. 'yeah, well, you can tell me how much you love me while i clean you up. c'mon,'