A/N: All mistakes are my own and I own nothing but my imagination. Maggie and Grace Reid are 9 and 6 respectively at the time of this story.

November 25, 1941

Detective Chief Superintendent Foyle and Detective Sergeant Milner had just come in from a call and were making their way down the hallway, discussing what they had learned. Foyle listened carefully to what Milner was saying, nodding in agreement and then glanced down at the telegram that he had collected from the front desk upon his return.

"DCS Foyle. Regret to inform you. Squadron Leader A. Foyle, 542 Squadron. Reported missing in action 24 November 1941. Will notify if situation changes. RAF Coastal Command."

Foyle froze in the doorway of his office, his blood running cold as he re-read the message. Milner was still talking but he could no longer make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. "Reported missing in action, 24, November 1941." The buzzing grew louder, and he suddenly felt his knees give way.

"Sir!" Milner, who had been studying his boss with concern, lunged forward and caught Foyle's arm just in time to prevent him toppling to the ground. "Mr. Foyle? Sir, are you alright?"

Foyle didn't even appear to have heard him. He stood there ashen faced and shaking, Milner's firm grip on his arm the only thing keeping him on his feet.

"Sir?" Milner tried again, a sinking feeling growing in his gut as he remembered the telegram that was clutched in the DCS' now shaking hand. He could think of only one type of telegram that would have this affect on his boss and he prayed to God he was wrong.

When Foyle still didn't respond Milner took a deep breath and carefully drew Foyle's arm over his shoulders and wrapped a steadying arm around his waist. "Think you'd better sit down Sir." He said quietly as he led Foyle, somewhat haltingly, toward the desk.

Thankfully Foyle seemed to have recovered himself enough to put one foot in front of the other and Milner was soon lowering him carefully into his chair. "Just sit for a minute Sir." Milner said softly, trying to keep his voice calm.

There was no response so he strode quickly to the door. Thankfully Sam was just going passed as he stepped out into the hall. "Sam."

"Hullo Milner, I was just going to…"

"Sam I need you to go and find Mr. Reid and bring him to Mr. Foyle's office immediately."

Milner's voice was tight with worry and Sam froze, "Paul what is it? Has something happened to Mr. Foyle?" Her face and tone were concerned and pleading but Milner shook his head.

"Not now Sam. Please, just find Mr. Reid as quick as you can."

Sam nodded and hurried off down the hall in the direction of the Superintendent's office. Milner closed his eyes for a moment, praying fervently that Mr. Reid was currently at the station before taking a deep breath and going back into Foyle's office.

The DCS was sitting exactly as he had left him; staring unseeingly at the desk in front of him, telegram still clutched in his shaking hand. Milner took another deep breath and crossed back to the desk, "Mr. Foyle? Sir, can you hear me?"

When Foyle didn't react he laid a tentative hand on DCS' shoulder, frowning as he felt the tremors running through the older man's body. "Mr. Reid should be here soon Sir. Is there anything I can get you?"

As he had expected there was no reply and at a loss for what else to do, Milner tightened his grip slightly. He briefly considered looking at the telegram but immediately dismissed it as an unacceptable breach of Mr. Foyle's privacy, what ever it was, he would tell them in his own time. But Milner couldn't help praying that Mr. Reid would get here soon.

Thankfully, two minutes later Milner got his wish and the door opened to admit a concerned looking Hugh Reid and a slightly out of breath Sam. They both froze at the sight of Foyle's ashen face. "Christopher?" "Sir?"

Foyle didn't respond to either address and Milner cleared his throat. "Sam, if you wouldn't mind making some tea? Strong and sweet for Mr. Foyle, he can have my sugar ration."

Sam nodded, eyes round with worry and quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Reid, who had approached the desk and was studying Foyle with concern, glanced up at Milner. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure Sir. We were discussing the case and then Mr. Foyle read the telegram that had come for him and well, I think he almost passed out Sir. He didn't." Milner added quickly at Reid's shocked intake of breath. "Just went terribly pale and rather shaky. I've tried to talk to him but he hasn't responded."

Reid nodded and crouched down in front of his friend. "Christopher? Christopher can you hear me?"

Foyle didn't react. "Shall I call Dr. White Sir?" Milner asked with concern.

Reid thought for a moment and then shook his head, "no, not yet anyway, lets see if some tea does the trick first."

Milner nodded and glanced toward the door again, hoping that Sam would be along soon.

When Sam appeared 10 minutes later with the tea tray little had changed despite Reid's efforts to engage Foyle in conversation, and Milner could only shake his head slightly at Sam's silent question.

Sam swallowed hard and set the tray down carefully on the desk. "Here's Mr. Foyle's tea and I thought we could all do with a cup as well."

Her voice shook slightly but didn't break and Milner smiled encouragingly at her, "thank you Sam. Why don't we take ours in my office? Unless you need me Sir?"

The last was directed at Reid who shook his head, "no, thank you Milner and thank you for the tea Sam." He gave her a weak smile that never reached his eyes.

"Not at all Sir." Sam replied her eyes fixed anxiously on Mr. Foyle's pale face.

Milner nodded, "I'll be in my office then if you need me Sir. Sam?"

Sam nodded and picking up two mugs of tea quietly left the room, Milner following a little more slowly behind her.

Once Sam and Milner had gone Reid took a deep breath and looked down at Foyle again. "Christopher Sam's made you some tea and I want you to try and drink it all right?" He placed the mug in Foyle free hand, very relieved when Foyle obediently brought it to his lips and took a sip.

Reid waited until Foyle had finished about half and then took the cup from him and set it on the desk. Perching himself on the corner of the desk he placed a hand on Foyle's shoulder. "What's happened Christopher? Is it something to do with Andrew?"

At the mention of his son's name Foyle shuddered violently and when he looked up at Hugh there was so much anguish in his eyes that Reid felt his breath catch in his throat. "He's missing." Foyle murmured, his voice hardly more than a hoarse whisper.

Reid closed his eyes briefly and tightened his grip on Foyle's shoulder, "what do you mean missing?" He asked gently.

Foyle held out the telegram and Reid scanned it quickly, his heart sinking as it confirmed his worst fears; Andrew had been missing in action since yesterday.

He looked at his friend and suddenly realized there were truly no words for some situations. Nothing he could say would ease the terrible grief-stricken look on Christopher's face. He swallowed hard, "Oh Christopher, I'm so dreadfully sorry."

Foyle nodded distractedly, his eyes fixed on the picture of Andrew that had been taken right after he got his wings. "He could still turn up fine." Reid said after a bit.

The words felt hollow even as he said them. They had both seen too many friends killed in action, and later reported "missing" because their bodies had yet to be recovered, to take much comfort from the faint sliver of hope that the words offered.

He pressed the mug back into Foyle's hands and for a long time they sat in silence, sipping their tea, lost in the memories of a young man who might never again appear at the station covered in mud and grinning broadly while he explained 'why it really wasn't his fault.'

After a bit Reid cleared his throat, "Can I call anyone for you Christopher? Charles?"

Foyle shook his head, "rather wait a day or two, till we know…" He trailed off with another shudder and Reid nodded.

"Of course. You finished?"

Foyle nodded, his eyes once again straying back to Andrew's picture. Reid squeezed his shoulder as he stood. "I'll just grab my coat and then we'll go."

Foyle didn't respond so Reid just squeezed his shoulder again and taking the mugs quietly left the room.

After stopping briefly in the kitchen he knocked briskly on Milner's door.

"Yes?"

Reid let himself in, waving Milner and Sam down as they went to stand. "How is he Sir?" Sam asked anxiously.

Reid took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, "this goes no further, understood?" Sam and Milner nodded immediately so he continued. "Christopher received a telegram from Coastal Command informing him that Andrew was reported missing in action yesterday."

Sam gave a horrified gasp, her eyes immediately filling with tears while Milner bowed his head in silent consternation as his fears were confirmed. For a moment there was silence and then Sam asked tearfully, "he could still turn up couldn't he Sir? I mean if he's just missing?"

There was a pleading note to her voice and Reid cursed himself for forgetting that she and Andrew had stepped out briefly; he really could have broken the news a little more gently.

"It is possible Sam." Milner agreed gently. Possible but not likely Reid shudder slightly, Milner knew as well as he did how often 'missing' really meant 'dead.'

"Is there anything we can do Sir? For Mr. Foyle I mean?" Milner asked quietly.

Reid shook his head. "Not really, Sam if you could run us back to Christopher's house I'd appreciate it."

Sam nodded and stood, "of course Sir, I'll go and bring the car around now."

"Thank you."

Once she had left he turned back to Milner, "I'm going to need you to run things here for a few days Milner. With Christopher and I both away you're the senior man. You can tell Sergeant Rivers if you need to but I don't want word about Andrew getting around the station until we know for sure one way or the other."

Milner nodded, "of course Sir. Don't worry I'll see that everything's taken care of."

Reid nodded, offering Milner a weak smile. "I'm sure you will Milner. If you need me for anything you know my number, I'll probably be at Christopher's for the next few days at least."

"Yes Sir. Please give my condolences to Mr. Foyle and if there's anything I can do…"

Reid nodded again, "thank you Milner, now I should go, wouldn't want to keep Sam waiting." Milner nodded and the two men shook hands before Reid left the room, heading toward his own office.

Once inside Reid sank into his chair and buried his head in his hands as he allowed himself a moment to grieve the young man he loved like a nephew. After several minutes he raised his head and reached for the telephone with a slightly shaky hand. He needed to tell Elaine and this would be his only opportunity to do so without the risk of Christopher overhearing.

As he waited for the call to go through he glanced at the clock, relieved to see that the girls would still be at school. As hard as it would be to tell Elaine the idea of having to tell Maggie and Grace that Andrew was never coming home again broke his heart anew and he could barely responded when Elaine answered.

"Hullo?"

"Elaine?" His voice was very rough and he quickly cleared his throat.

"Hugh, are you all right? What's happened?"

Reid closed his eyes, hating himself for doing this over the phone but knowing he had no other choice. "Elaine, love, you might want to sit down."

"Hugh?" The worry in Elaine's voice was palpable and Reid took a deep breath.

"Christopher got a telegram from the RAF this morning, Andrew was reported missing in action yesterday." He spoke gently but nothing could soften the reality of his words.

"No Hugh! Not Andrew!"

Hugh closed his eyes against his own tears as he listened to his wife cry, "I know love. I'm so sorry to tell you over the phone but I'm not sure when I'll be home and I had to tell you."

There were a few shaky breaths but when Elaine spoke her voice only wavered slightly, "Do you want me to come over to Christopher's? I could ask Mrs. Answorth to watch the girls."

Reid shook his head, "no, thank you darling, I can manage tonight and after that we'll see."

"There's still a chance that he's all right isn't there Hugh? If it just said that he was missing?"

Her voice had the same pleading tone as Sam's and Reid sighed, "Yes there's a chance love, but not a large one."

Neither of them spoke for several minutes and then Elaine asked softly, "How's Christopher?"

"About as well as you'd expect. According to Milner he almost passed out when he read the telegram and he's been in shock ever since."

"That poor man, it just isn't fair. Oh this dreadful, dreadful war!" There were tears in her voice again and all Reid could do was nod.

"I know love." After a few moments Hugh rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat, "sorry love but I ought to go, I need to get Christopher home."

"Of course you do. Shall I bring something over for supper?"

Reid thought for a minute and then shook his head, "Thank you love but I doubt he'd eat it. I suspect I'll be lucky if I get some tea and toast into him."

"What about you though Hugh, you need to eat too."

"I will love, promise. I'm so sorry for all of this."

"It's not your fault Hugh, not in the slightest. Don't you dare blame yourself."

"I mean I'm sorry for telling you over the phone, I wanted to come home but I don't want to leave Christopher."

"No of course, I understand Hugh and I love you very much."

"I love you too Elaine more than anything." He murmured his voice thick with emotion "Not sure what I'd do without you and the girls." He cleared his throat again, "I don't think we should tell the girls yet, like you said there's still a chance and they love him so much Elaine." Hugh's voice cracked slightly and he brought a hand up to cover his eyes.

Elaine blinked back fresh tears at Hugh's words. The girls adored Andrew, he had been a constant source of love and attention all their lives, "I know Hugh. We won't tell them yet, I'll just say you had to stay late at the station."

Reid nodded, "good thinking love. I'll try and call around bedtime to say goodnight but it will depend on Christopher."

"Take care of him Hugh."

Elaine's voice was thick with compassion and Hugh nodded, "I will darling, now I must go, I'll definitely call in the morning if I can't call later. I love you."

"I love you too Hugh."

They rang off and Reid ran a weary hand over his face before getting to his feet and heading for the door.

Getting Christopher out of the station was easier then he had feared although he wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing. Foyle was clearly still in shock and allowed Reid to guide him out and into the car without a word.

In fact Foyle didn't speak until Reid had helped him out of his hat and coat and ushered him into the lounge. He suddenly froze and looked around, almost as if he were seeing it for the first time. "I waited here for him to be born you know?" He murmured his voice so broken that it made Reid's heartache. "He was the most beautiful baby, and we were so happy that day, Rose and I." He trailed off his eyes coming to rest on Rosalind's picture.

Reid turned and busied himself pouring scotch as he blinked back his tears. He hadn't thought he would ever see Christopher more broken than he had been immediately after Rosalind's death but he had been wrong. Worse than that there was nothing he could do to fix it.

He settled instead for steering Foyle gently into his armchair and pressing the tumbler of scotch into his hand, "have a drink Christopher it will help with the shock." Foyle obeyed and for a long time they sat in silence.

Little changed as the hours wore on, Hugh did the blackout, made a pot of tea, convinced Christopher to take off his jacket and tie and eat a slice of toast. But for the most part they sat in silence.

The silence and grief seemed to be pressing in on them and Reid had to fight the urge to pace the room. He had never been as quiet or prone to introspection as Christopher and he longed for something to 'do,' something tangible that he could accomplish.

His suggestion that Christopher headed up to bed was met with a silent shake of the head and given that it was highly unlikely that Foyle would sleep even if he went to bed, Reid didn't press it.

He did convince Foyle to join him on the settee however, moving close enough that their shoulders touched slightly. It wasn't much but he wanted Christopher to know that he was not alone in his silent grief.