"Remorse is the poison of life."

- Charlotte Brontë ~ Jane Eyre.

"Harry? Say something. Cough ….. anything."

Ruth realises too late that she's breached protocol. On a sensitive and dangerous operation, she's temporarily ignored protocol, and used an operative's name. She quickly looks up to see Tariq's face. The young techie looks worried.

"Alpha One," he says. "Do you read me? Give me an indication."

Both she and Tariq, and the other desk agent, Carmen, wait, looking at the small dot of white light on their monitors, still blinking, still stationary.

"Alpha One," Tariq repeats, his voice calm, "report your condition."

They wait in silence, and they hear nothing but the very faintest of hums.

Ruth can bear it no longer. She removes her headset, and steps away from her monitor. Tariq notices, and whilst his eyebrows curve down in a slight frown, he continues calling Alpha One. Until he learns otherwise, he will continue to call Harry.

Suddenly, a crackling comes over the line, and Tariq hears Dimitri's voice through his own comms.

"He's gone. Harry's not here. No-one's here."

"But we can still see his signal. It's there. In the building. It hasn't moved in ten minutes."

"Oh, shit." Beth's voice. "His clothes. His clothes are here in a pile. They've stripped him."

"Tell me what clothes you see," Tariq replies.

"Shirt, tie …... I hate that red tie …... trousers, socks, shoes, jacket. No underwear. That's good, right?"

"That's not good. I put the tracker in the lining of his trousers."

"Jesus, Tariq, why? You said you'd put it in his shorts." Beth's voice barely hides her irritation.

"He wouldn't let me. He said it wouldn't be necessary."

Ruth can't listen to them bickering. She can't think about where Harry is, and what may be happening to him. All she can think about is the final sound she'd heard from him - a long groan after what was probably a heavy punch. Harry is injured, possibly unconscious, and they don't know where he is, or even if he's alive.

Ruth thinks about Harry's decision to meet Anatoly Kazakov at a location in South London. He had agreed to meet him one on one – man to man. No back-up, and with only electronic surveillance for protection.

Ruth thinks about how low Harry has been since Ros died …... and since she had turned down his proposal of marriage. She has no illusions about her own influence on his decision to meet the Russian alone. Harry has been showing signs of depression and fatigue – a difficult combination in a man who needs to survive on his wits.

"Can you trace Kazakov's van, Tariq?" Dimitri sounds desperate. He likes and respects Harry, and was completely against the operation in the first place.

"Leave it with me."

Ruth can't listen to any more. Every word she hears screams of desperation and failure. She leaves her desk, and climbs the stairs to the roof. In her confusion she'd forgotten to bring her coat, and so the air whips around her, cutting her skin. Somehow that feels right to her …... that she should be punished by the elements. Harry had walked off the Grid with only a passing glance at her. She had watched him all the way …... until he was just a distant figure in a dark suit, disappearing down the corridor.

As time passes since Harry left the Grid at midday, she has been rethinking her decision to turn down his proposal of marriage. She now knows that it is probably only the second time he has asked someone to marry him, and his words came out all wrong. He was clumsy, and the suggestion that she marry him inappropriate on that particular day. But it was not the end of the world. She needed to have asked him what he meant by it – what were his plans – and not turn him away with so few words. In the end, she'd been as clumsy as he.

Ruth has been on the roof for over an hour, and her fingers are numb. She is just about to turn and leave when the door opens with a crash. It's Carmen, the junior desk officer.

"They've found him, Ruth. You need to come."

Ruth meets Beth in the Accident and Emergency section of Guy's Hospital in Central London. So far, no-one seems to know his condition.

"I thought you'd want to be here, Ruth. Dimitri has gone to find Harry's doctor."

"Where's Harry?"

"I'm not sure. All I know is that he's in here somewhere."

Ruth and Beth find a couple of spare seats, and sit down. Ruth feels sick in her stomach – it is the anxiety - but most of all, she feels sorry …... sorry for herself that she can't take back her words, and sorry for Harry that he'd valued his own life so little that he went out to meet a dangerous man while carrying no weapon, and with no back-up. She feels the tears building, and she tries hard to stop them falling.

"He'll be alright, Ruth," Beth says quietly, handing her a tissue. "Harry's tough. He's a survivor."

"He's not as tough as everyone thinks he is."

Dimitri is gesticulating to them from the entrance to a corridor.

"He's in intensive care. He hit his head on the pavement when he fell out of the van. Other than that, he just has the usual cuts and bruises."

"He was pushed out of the van?" Ruth has a mental image of Harry's half naked form being shoved out the back door of the van at speed.

"No," replies Dimitri. "Witnesses saw him jump out. He hit the ground rather hard. He's a bit of a lump, is Harry."

Ruth thinks of arguing with Dimitri about the `lump' description, but she stops herself. She just wants to see Harry.

"He has quite a bit of gravel rash down one thigh and one arm from when he hit the ground, but they're just superficial wounds."

"When can I see him?" Ruth asks.

Dimitri looks around at the busy waiting room, full of people either with injuries and illnesses which require attention, or people like them, waiting for news of loved ones.

"Er …. the doc says we have to wait until he's ready to wake up. Two days minimum."

"But won't he need his loved ones around him?"

Ruth notices Dimitri and Beth exchange a look. They know. They know about she and Harry. Not that there's anything to know, as such. Just two people who love one another, and who continually struggle to find a way to express that love.

"We're allowed to observe him through a window, but that's all."

For a man who is larger than life when awake, Harry looks very small lying on his hospital bed, hooked up to a number of machines, with a breathing tube down his throat.

"Can't I even sneak in and hold his hand?" Ruth says, to no-one in particular.

"Were you his wife or his fiancée, I'd say yes, but under the circumstances ….." The young doctor's voice fades, noting the desperation on Ruth's face.

Beth and Dimitri have already looked through the window at the unconscious form of their boss, and they are standing at a distance, allowing Ruth a few private moments to herself while she observes Harry. It's clear they know more than they are saying.

"Will he be alright?" Ruth asks.

"We won't know that until he wakes. We've done scans of his brain, and there's no swelling, which is a good sign. He's been put into an induced coma just to be on the safe side. He hit the tarmac quite hard, but then rolled on to his shoulder, so it could have been worse. The fact that he has no broken bones is a minor miracle. We'll begin reducing the drugs in a day or two. When he wakes up, we should have more idea, but not before then."

"Can I watch him from here whenever I want?"

The doctor smiles and nods. "Er ….. if you don't mind me asking …... what exactly is your relationship with Mr Pearce?"

"Officially, he's my employer. Unofficially …... he's ….."

The doctor nods his head again in understanding.

Ruth spends most of the following two days on the Grid, working as hard as she can. There is always a lot to do. Anatoly Kazakov was picked up by police when the number on his van was called in by a witness to Harry jumping through the back doors. He will spend time in gaol on a number of charges, including driving a vehicle without tax, and driving without due care, as well as a long list of weapons possession charges. Lucas is still negotiating with police about what should happen to Kazakov, and such negotiations may take a few weeks.

On the fourth day after Harry had been admitted to Guy's, Ruth receives a phone call from Harry's doctor.

"Mr Pearce woke up this morning, Ms Evershed, and if your name is Ruth, then he's asking for you."

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

Ruth hadn't visited the hospital since the day Harry had been brought in. In the end, she's had too much work to occupy her, and to watch Harry while he was unconscious seemed like an indulgence she could ill afford. She'd given the doctor her name and number, and instructed him to ring her the minute Harry wakes up. She hadn't expected the doctor to do as she wished, so she'd rung the hospital twice daily, asking for updates on Harry's condition. `We'll let you know if Mr Pearce's condition changes,' is the only response she receives, so when she stands at the window of his new room, a private room on the recovery ward, and sees him sitting up and talking to a nurse, Ruth can't help herself. She watches Harry unseen, while her tears flow freely.

It takes a few minutes for the nurse to notice her, and to speak to Harry, who looks up and through the window, smiling at her …... the private smile he reserves just for her. Ruth quickly wipes her eyes, and steps through the door into Harry's room.

He's reaching out to her with his hand – his good hand, as it turns out, as the other arm is in a sling, and the other side of his face is bruised and cut, and his cheek swollen from where he'd hit the pavement.

"Bloody hell, Harry. What do you think you were doing?" is all she can say.