It was now past five, and he glanced in agitation at his clock. He knew Connie had planned to take Hugo and Jim with Grace to a restaurant in town, and was expecting him home before then in order to help with Grace. This was a step in itself, she had asked him to be there to help, not just instantly taken it upon herself to bear the sole responsibility for her daughter and the requirements of her condition. Mainly, this was the stairs, as between them they had agreed that they simply could not move the rooms around and would have to carry Grace until they knew for certain whether she would ever be able to manage these herself. At the moment, her physiotherapy sessions were indicating positive developments, however it had been noted by the medical professionals that they were, that the recovery was seemingly slower than would have been expected in the most positive of circumstances. He checked the time again, reluctant to call Connie but also knowing that in this current state delay and disorder, he couldn't simply handover and leave the department.

"Jacob, resus." He turned as soon as he was called, medical instinct taking over, all other thoughts became secondary as soon as the wooden doors swung shut behind him.

...

"I think I should get Grace back, but we'll meet you there at about six. If that's okay with you, Hugo?" Connie smiled at the boy, who nodded and came quickly to bend down to Grace. They had spent about forty minutes in the park, with Connie suggesting to Hugo that he spend some time in the playground with Jim whilst she sat with Grace at the fountains. He was such a lovely boy, but she could see how it upset him that he couldn't interact with Grace so well, and not completely understand why now she seemed different. For example, he had pointed out the Christmas lights that were decorating the lampposts, and the squirrels that would often dart out onto the path, and would each time pause for a response, a response which didn't ever come. He had gradually become more and more quiet, until Connie had insisted to Jim that she would happily wait for them to come back from the play area and meet them before they needed to head back home.

"He needs a break, Jim. It's hard... For him to see her like this. It's..." She paused, her mind wandering back to when Grace had first woken up. "It's not that she doesn't hear us. She gets frustrated, she can't respond how she wants to, so sometimes... She doesn't see the point in trying to." She looked down over the back of the chair to Grace's head, bending to press a kiss to her hair before turning to sit on the marble edge of the fountain.

"Keira and I, we were thinking... Perhaps either you or I, or Jacob, even... We could try and explain to him-"

"We don't know if she's even going to walk unaided again."

It came out before she even realised she was thinking it. But of course she was, it was pretty much all that had been occupying her thoughts since the last physiotherapy session. As she lowered her head, an instinctive attempt to disguise the crack in her shield, Jim touched his fingers gently to her shoulder, not in a way that was too familiar, but a gesture of basic human sympathy.

"Go, he's waiting for you." She cleared her throat, raising her chin and looking to where Hugo stood a few metres away from them, anxiously looking over to the adults.

"We'll see you in a bit." He spoke to her quietly, before following Hugo, who turned back to give a wave to Connie. She raised her hand in reply, the smile quickly falling from her face as she then registered Grace's moving in the wheelchair.

"Sweetheart, what are you-" She braced the handles tightly, before moving around to hold the frame with one hand and place the other on her daughter's knees.

"I want... To go..." Grace struggled to raise herself from the seat, breathing deeply with the effort. Connie pushed her back gently, trying to quieten her as Grace became increasingly agitated.

"Hugo's going to meet us in a bit Gracie, we need to go home and change, wait for Jacob-"

"No..." Grace tried to push forwards again, the wheels of the chair slipping as Connie's grip focused mostly on her daughter's legs.

"Grace, stop, please." There was an edge to her voice, she tried to shut down the panic that immediately crept on her as she struggled to balance the wheelchair and her daughter singlehandedly. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes momentarily before releasing the hand that she was using to keep Grace down and taking it to her daughter's cheek, bringing their faces closer together.

"I know." She whispered, and looked at her daughter's face, slightly reddened by the physical exertion and her mouth tightened with anger and frustration. At the gentle words, Grace seemed to cease somewhat in her determination to stand, allowing the tension in her arms to relax enough to allow her to settle back a little onto the seat. Connie inched forwards to steady herself, before bringing her hand to adjust the hat that had slipped from Grace's hair, her fingers lingering there a moment before stroking her cheek, an attempt to soothe her like she used to do as a baby. To settle her back to sleep after a nightmare. "I know, it makes you angry. I know you want to go, sweetheart. I know you want to get up, walk and do it on your own... But you can't, not yet. You're doing... You're doing so well... So, so well..." She swallowed, and quickly lowered her gaze before flicking her hair back over her shoulder and adjusting herself where she was crouched.

All she wanted to do now was go home, and look again through all of the papers that were in the office at home, go over the options, the exercises, the equipment. She could feel it kicking in, the blatant futility of their efforts at normalcy. Grace would barely eat anything at the restaurant, the suction machine would be tucked at the side for the entire time, just in case. She willed herself against it, but all the same, she turned to look over to the play area where Jim pushed a laughing Hugo on the swings.

...

"Con, god I am sorry, it was mental..." The door clicked shut, and Jacob entered the kitchen breathless, his bag swinging haphazardly from his shoulder. He took in the scene before him; the booklets, the papers, the half empty mug of coffee. Connie was sat at the table and Grace on the sofa, watching a film on the television. "Hey, firecracker..." He grinned as Grace turned her head, offering a smile back. He then turned to where Connie sat, not having raised her head on his arrival. He moved to stand behind her, pausing before gently sweeping her hair over her right shoulder, bending to then press a soft kiss to her neck. He quickly cast his eyes over the sheets that covered the table surface, exhaling before placing both hands onto her shoulders. "Are we ready to go?"

"Mm." She murmured, sighing as she placed her pen down and made to push her chair back.

"Con, I said, I'm sorry..."

"It's fine. I just want to get this over with."

"Over with? Connie..."

"Oh, come on Jacob. Why are we doing this? Really?" But he didn't hear anger, nor the condescending tone that usually came with these kind of conversations. Instead he heard a more quiet, internalised frustration, tinged with impending defeat.

"Because Grace wants to-"

"She told you that?"

She was pushing him now. Her arms were folded, quietly challenging him. Challenging him to accept that no matter how hard he tried, his positivity could not have any effect on this whatsoever. That she was right.

"She doesn't need to." He responded quietly, glancing over to where Grace sat, seemingly oblivious to the quiet conversation that was happening behind her. He then moved to go to the front of the sofa, gently encouraging Grace to use him as a support so that he could help her into her chair. "Okay, firecracker? Let's get going, they'll be waiting." He quickly looked up to where Connie still stood watching them, her expression uncharacteristically unreadable, before wheeling Grace from the room.