The two and a half hour drive to Debden passed almost entirely in silence. Reid, focused on getting them there as quickly and safely as possible, shot Foyle more than a few worried glances but could think of nothing to say that might ease his friend's anxiety. They had both been in the last war and seen enough of the effects of this one to know how bad it could be. With no information on Andrew's condition hopeful platitudes were worse than useless so Reid stayed quiet, praying fervently that Andrew would be all right.

Foyle was also praying, hoping against hope that his son had not been seriously injured. His prayers were interspersed with questions about what might have caused the crash, an equipment malfunction perhaps? He could do no more than speculate so he worried, prayed and chewed the inside of his cheek almost raw as the car crept ever closer to the hospital that held his son.

When they finally reached the hospital Foyle had his door open before the car came to a complete stop, jumping out and rushing up the steps two at a time before Reid had time to speak. He strode directly up to the desk, hat in hand, "excuse me, I'm looking for my son, Flight lieutenant Andrew Foyle, I was told he had been brought here."

The nurse nodded and then checked her clipboard before offering him a gentle smile, "Of course Mr. Foyle, if you'll just follow me I'll show you where you can wait."

"How is he?" Foyle asked urgently as he followed her down a broad hallway.

"I'm afraid I don't know Sir, but if you'll just wait here." She gestured to a small room, "one of the doctors will be in to speak with you shortly and I'm sure he will be able to answer all your questions."

Foyle nodded, feeling the knot of anxiety within him tighten even more. Last time the nurse just told me where I could find Andrew; if I needed to meet with a doctor first it must be worse. With nothing else to do he began to pace, trying to combat the panic that was threatening to choke him.

He was still pacing five minutes later when Reid was shown in. "Christopher any news?"

Foyle shook his head and continued his circuit, hands deep in his pockets, chewing furiously on his cheek.

They waited in silence for another 10 minutes, before the door opened and admitted a tall man in a white coat. "Mr. Foyle?"

Foyle immediately turned toward the door while Reid sprang to his feet and took an anxious step forward. The doctor looked between them, clearly unsure whom he should be addressing but before he could seek clarification Foyle asked urgently, "How is Andrew?"

The doctor turned to look at him gravely before shooting an inquiring glance at Reid. Reid cleared his throat, "Hugh Reid, I'm just a friend. I can leave if you prefer."

The doctor shook his head, "it makes no difference to me if Mr. Foyle is alright with you being here."

He looked questioningly at Foyle who nodded distractedly, "of course, now Andrew…"

The doctor took a deep breath, "how much do you know?"

"Only that he was injured in a crash and brought here."

The doctor nodded, "that is the jest of it, although I'm afraid I don't know the details of the crash. It seems likely that he tried to bail out at some point though because his safety harness had been undone before he hit the ground."

Foyle's jaw twitched but he said nothing allowing the doctor to continue. "He's cracked a couple of ribs and bruised several more. Thankfully he doesn't appear to have suffered any internal bleeding but we are watching him quite closely at the moment just in case, sometimes you can get a slow bleeder. He's also got more then his fair share of cuts and bruises but the main concern right now is the head wound."

"Head wound?" Foyle queried anxiously.

"Yes, he clearly hit his head pretty solidly against the canopy when he crashed, the bleeding has stopped now but he has yet to regain consciousness."

What little colour Foyle had regained on the drive to Debden fled his face so rapidly that for a minute Reid was afraid he was either going to pass out or be sick. He took a step forward and placed a hand on Foyle's shoulder at the same time the doctor took a half-step back.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you all this sitting down, it's rather a lot to take in. Would you like a glass of water?"

Foyle shook his head, swallowing hard before asking, "He hasn't been awake at all?"

The doctor shook his head, "not since he was brought in no. Apparently he passed out on the way to the hospital." Seeing the stricken look on Foyle's face he hurried on, "it's not entirely uncommon, especially with the blood he's lost. It's not enough to need a transfusion but certainly enough to wear him out. I suspect he will have a rather bad concussion when he does wake up."

Foyle nodded grimly, "may I see him?"

The doctor nodded, "of course." He glanced up at Reid and continued a little apologetically, "We generally only allow family in at this point, especially with head wounds. He will need to be kept very quiet."

Reid nodded, "I understand. Would it be alright for me to wait outside his room?"

"That will depend on the ward sister but you can come along and ask."

Reid nodded and with a final glance at Foyle the doctor turned and led the way out of the room.

The doctor led them down several corridors and through a bustling ward before they reached a quiet wing that appeared to contain private rooms, presumably for patients who were too ill to be on a ward. The doctor paused briefly to speak to a nurse before leading them to the third room on the right. "We have him in a private room because we suspect he will have concussion. The noise level on the wards is usually too much for concussed patients to handle for the first few days."

Foyle and Reid both nodded gravely so the doctor continued. "I just spoke to the nurse and nothing has changed since I saw him last. I should warn you that he has quite a large number of cuts and bruises but in this incidence I do believe it looks worse then it is."

Foyle nodded again, practically vibrating with impatience to actually see his son. With a glance at Reid and a slight nod the doctor quietly led them into the room.

The curtains had been drawn leaving the room dim and cool, no doubt to accommodate the concussion that they seemed so sure Andrew would have. It took Foyle's eyes a moment to adjust and when they did he felt his breath catch in his throat.

There on the bed, with a bandage around his head and cuts and bruises on his face, lay Andrew. He was terribly pale and so frighteningly still that Foyle had to watch carefully for a minute to assure himself that his son was in fact breathing.

The doctor watched him silently for a minute before saying softly, "there is a chair by the bed Mr. Foyle and you are welcome to stay until the ward sister says otherwise. Mr. Reid I'm afraid you will need to leave shortly. A nurse will be in every 30 minutes or so but if he wakes or if you have any questions there is usually a nurse in the hallway. Now if you'll excuse me I need to return to the ward."

Foyle and Reid nodded and the doctor quietly left the room. Reid watched in silence for another minute and then placed a hand on Foyle's shoulder. "Christopher, I'm going to go and ring Milner and Sam but then I'll be just outside the door alright?"

Foyle nodded distractedly, his eyes still fixed on Andrew. Reid looked at Andrew once more and then gave Foyle's shoulder a squeeze, "you might as well sit down Christopher. I'll be back soon."

Foyle nodded again and made his way very slowly toward Andrew's bedside and perched on the edge of the chair. Andrew's appearance did not improve on closer inspection however and Foyle felt his eyes fill with tears as he took in the battered state of his son, his beautiful son.

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, eyes fixed on Andrew's face as he willed his son to wake up when someone cleared their throat. Foyle looked up to see a young nurse in the doorway. He stood instinctively and she smiled at him, "sorry to disturb you Sir, I just need to check him over quickly."

"Of course." Foyle replied watching anxiously as she took Andrew's pulse and checked the bandage on his head. Next she pulled the blankets down and undid Andrew's pajama top. Foyle couldn't quite contain his sharp intake of breath as he saw the bandages that were holding his son's ribs in place and the bruises that covered his torso.

The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile, "I know it looks awful Sir but the binding will actually decrease the pain and there are still no signs of internal bleeding."

Foyle nodded mutely, unwilling to trust his voice.

The examination didn't take much longer and just before she left the nurse said kindly, "it's alright to talk to him you know Sir. Might help to know that you're here."

Foyle nodded again, waiting until she had left the room before retaking his seat. He sat quietly for a long while and then reached out hesitantly to take Andrew's limp hand. "I'm here son" he murmured, "Dad's here and everything will be all right but you need to wake up."

There was no indication that Andrew had heard him and Foyle carefully released his hand and sank back into his chair. Unable to contain the tears that slipped slowly down his cheeks as he buried his head in his hands.