Set immediately after 4.9.
TRIGGER WARNING: Implied sexual violence slightly referenced.
Harry finally sat down after what felt to him like hours, he wished his resting place was more comfortable than the plastic chair in the hospital corridor. Adam was in surgery but the surgeons had been optimistic, and Harry knows it would take more than a bullet to the shoulder to knock down Adam Carter. Of course, this doesn't stop worry from flooding his chest as he tries to relax in to the chair; hoping to maybe catch some semblance of sleep.
His phone rang, as it always does. He fished it from his pocket and answered it wearily. "Yes?"
"Harry, it's me. How's Adam?" Her voice was taught with fear, and the same exhaustion he was feeling.
"Ruth, Adam's in surgery. The doctors didn't seem too worried. They're going to update me soon. Are you,"
"Will you call me when you've been updated? Or do you want me to… I could come to the hospital? I've got Zaf looking after Wes for now, is that alright, do you think?"
"I'm sure Zaf will be able to manage. Wes likes him. And, no, you don't need to come in. I think you should go home." He heard the beginning of her protest, so pressed on. "You need to rest Ruth after," His voice faltered, he wasn't sure how much he should say "after today. It's been a long day, well two days for all of us... But especially… for you." There was a pause as each as each thought back to the moment in corridor. He thought of her blue eyes, so close to his and the look of anger she'd given him after his clumsy comment about adrenaline.
"Ruth… I'm truly sorry that you, that I-"
She interrupted him, like he knew she would. But she didn't sound angry. "It's fine Harry, really. Will you call me please, when you have news about Adam?"
"Of course. But home. Now. I'm calling Colin in 20 minutes and if you're still on the Grid, I'll have you dealing with walk ins for a month Ruth. Is that understood?" He heard her let out breath, which if she might have been a laugh were she less shattered.
"Alright. But Harry?" Her voice was soft and pleading. "Call me… if you need anything."
"I will…" He waited to hear the sound of her ending the call. He knew she'd stay on the Grid as late as she could, as she always did. But he honestly hoped that for once she'd listen to him and go home.
It was true what he'd said, these last however many hours since Angela turned up in Ruth's house had been hardest for her. He'd watched her face; the fear as she'd tried to get Angela to leave; the shock as he'd admitted the truth about the Contingent Events Committee; the relief when Angela had finally left and the panic as she realised the file was missing. But worst of all was the look of hurt and shame that had marred her features when he'd admitted to reading her psychological profile. "My file?" was all she'd managed to say; but the anger and betrayal laced her words heavily enough.
Harry knew he hadn't done anything wrong. As her boss, he had every right to read her file; in fact it was expected of him. But in reality, Harry tended to avoid psychological profiles. He preferred to try to figure people himself and he knew only too well that they never told you anything real about anyone. Tessa's had never revealed what a traitor she would become and Jo's wouldn't tell you about one eighth of her potential. Harry only read them when he believed it was necessary.
He had believed it was necessary for this operation and it had been. But still, he couldn't get the image of Ruth's face out of his mind. So hurt and ashamed and angry all at once. Whilst he had sat there looking calm, professional and steady. Self control, self denial. The truth was that he couldn't have prepared himself for what he'd read.
To have to read the transcript of Ruth relating what had happened in Blackpool, what Peter had done, to the duty psychiatrist who 'worked up' all new Grid members had tested his self control to the up most. He was glad Peter was dead. He was glad he had in his office where no one could see him shaking with anger.
In the corridor, she'd been ashamed. Ashamed, he knew, of what she had done; of how she'd manipulated her own emotions to talk Angela down but ashamed too that he knew. Harry wondered that she didn't understand that knowing, now, that she had suffered so and was still the wonderful person he saw before him, seemed to almost make him love her even more.
Love her. Love her? He shifted in the uncomfortable hospital chair and looked up and down the corridor, as if worried someone had heard his thoughts. He'd never used the word love before, even in the sanctity of his own mind.
He knew he respected her immensely; her passion, her commitment. He knew she fascinated him; her perfect balance of clumsiness and grace, her shyness contrasted with her steely determination. He knew he trusted her above all others. He knew he was attracted to her; he had chastised himself in the early days for his inappropriate thoughts about a junior office, and so many years his junior too. He knew her presence made him happier than any others; and the mere sight of her sat across the Grid would help temper his mood at the idiocy of whichever politician. He knew he wanted to protect her. He knew he cared about her.
He had never before allowed himself to add all those truths up to equate to love. But sat in the hospital corridor, trying to focus on Adam, his thoughts had evaded his normal stringent control. Harry loved Ruth.
"Oh shit" he murmured gently without any real remorse. He loved her. He had no intention of doing anything about it. She couldn't love him. He knew there was something between them; the way her fingers had lingered on his on the bus. But it had probably been the excitement of the moment. He knew women were attracted to him; he was powerful and commanding. Often, women from other sections who passed him in the corridors would cast him looks that lasted a little too long. But he was uninterested in anyone interested in him only for his power and reputation; he'd spent his younger years abusing that enough. For now, he supposed, he would be happy to just love her from… well hopefully not afar. As long as she was safe and happy.
"Mr Rivers?" Harry was roused from his thoughts of Ruth and immediately focused on the doctor and his news of Adam. He could tell from the Doctor's face the surgery had gone well but he allowed the man to confirm and explain how much time Adam would need before he reached for his phone.
"Colin… Adam's fine. Could you put Ruth on? Colin, I know she's there. Yes, I did tell her to go home but you and I know full well that she's incapable of doing what's she told now pass me on to her… Ruth?"
"I was just about to leave, really." She sounded sheepish.
"No, you weren't. You weren't going to leave until I rang to tell you how Adam was. He's fine. Surgery went well. He won't be awake until tomorrow and he'll need a lot of time to rest. But he's alright, Ruth."
"Oh thank god." He can hear the relief in her voice and almost feel the tension lifting from her. "Are you, ur, are you coming back to the Grid?"
"No. I'm going to Adam's. I'll stay with Wes tonight, tell him how his Dad is and take him to visit him tomorrow morning before I come in. Could you organise someone to watch him tomorrow afternoon?"
"Of course"
"Thank you Ruth. Now I know that despite being your boss, I seem to have little authority over what you do but I'm asking you to go home and rest. Try to put today behind you." He wanted to tell her to look after herself, to take her time, to be okay. "I'll, I'll need you back on good form tomorrow." He winces at his formal tone. She didn't speak for a moment and he thought she's was waiting for him to say something but he couldn't figure out what.
"Okay Harry, If anything changed with Adam-"
"Of course. Goodnight Ruth." Again he waited for her to put down the phone which she did after softly murmuring. "Goodnight Harry." He hoped she'd get some rest that night and not spend hours awake reliving those moments with Angela and the worse memories they brought with them. He would check to see what she drank tomorrow; he knew she only ever drank coffee after nights of no sleep. Tomorrow when he would see her. But for now, he forced himself to the present and slowly released himself from the uncomfortable chair and made his way out of the hospital.
Right now he had a young child to look after; a child who was no doubt currently being taught dirty jokes and how to gamble by Mr Younis. There would, he hoped, always be time to think and worry about her. There would always be time to love Ruth.
Not entirely sure about this. If I decide I like it, I may create a series of one shots based on episodes charting the Harry/Ruth saga (and generally Ruth as a person in her own right.)
But that's it for now, thank you for reading!