Aleksandr lifted Sylvia out of the wheelchair without much of a struggle--again, she proved lighter than he had expected. He quickly and gently placed her in the passenger seat of the car.  He let a small sigh, feeling a bit jittery after having held onto her.  He closed the door for her and didn't dare look back at her as he turned to fold the wheelchair so it would fit in the boot of the car.  He took several moments, studying the wheelchair.  He tinkered with it a bit before figuring out to properly fold it.

Father Seraphim went around the car and unlocked the boot before opening it up. Both men exchanged gazes silently as Aleksandr leaned over and fitted the wheelchair into the boot.  He stood back up, facing his father, who had his hand on the boot's door, "I'm warning you," he spoke gently to Aleksandr, but there was a seriousness in his voice.  Aleksandr said nothing, trying to avoid acknowledgement of his father's words. He walked back around the car and shoved himself inside the backseat.  It was a bit cramped, but he had been in far more uncomfortable positions.  Father Seraphim shook his head softly and shut the boot. 

As Father Seraphim stepped inside the car, he looked at Sylvia, "I think it would be best if we went to your place to pick up some of your necessities before heading to our home," he paused, glancing at Aleksandr who was glaring at him from the backseat, and then shifting his eyes back to Sylvia, "Unfortunately, Aleksy and I are new to the city.  Do you know the way to your house from the hospital?"  He figured she did, but it was polite to ask.  With his hands on the steering wheel, he carefully drove the car from the entry way of the hospital, glancing in the rearview mirror at Aleksandr's grim face.  His head shook softly, again, to dismiss his son's sour behavior. [@Arista]