It had been a hellish few days on the Grid and Ruth was exhausted. Her last decent meal was a distant memory and she was looking forward to being home and if she stayed awake long enough, a nice hot bath. When her phone rang, she was very tempted to not answer it until she saw the name of the caller.

"Doctor?"

"Ruth. Harry wouldn't be with you, by any chance?"

"No. Why?"

"We can't seem to locate him, and he was supposed to see me this afternoon."

"Shall I…?"

"No. Don't worry about it. I'm sure he'll turn up. Have a good evening." He failed to sound convincing.

Not bloody likely. She was a curious mix of emotions. She was worried, of course, but she was also very angry. What the hell was he playing at? Surely he must know that if he was going to recover anything at all, he needed Dr. Collins. She thought of simply continuing home, but she realized that there was no way she would be able to rest.

Harry had been back to work for nearly two weeks now, and it had been awkward between them. She found it hard to not to think of how it felt kissing him. There had been little opportunity to talk; he was in and out of meetings most of the time. Juliet seemed to be on the Grid a lot more often now that Harry was back, which put everyone, including Harry she thought, on edge. Ruth had a little pang when she saw him walk through the pods for the first time – it was strange to see him in a suit and tie; she had gotten used to his open-necked shirts and jeans. He was meant to be back on a part-time basis, but she knew he was there longer than he was supposed to be most days and it worried her.

Ruth started down the Embankment. If he wasn't here, she had a pub or two she could try, but after that, she was at a loss. She wondered about the repercussions of just putting a tracker on the bloody man. It was twilight and she was bone weary, and by the time she could distinguish his silhouette on the bench ahead, anger had trumped panic. If he had seen her approach, he made no acknowledgement of it. Without a word or a glance, she sat on the opposite end of the bench.

"Spare me the lecture, Ruth." His voice is ragged.

"Forgive me for caring. I can see now I shouldn't have bothered." She wants to leave, but something other than exhaustion keeps her there. They are silent for awhile, each radiating anger and frustration. She finally looks over at him, and she can see a faint track of a tear down his face.

"What is it all about, Harry?"

"What do you think?" he asks harshly. He finally looks over at her, but she's looked away again.

He sighs. This is not how he wanted things to be, but his emotions are as confused and jumbled as his head has been. He's trying to find the right words when her anger shatters the silence.

"What are you going to do, wallow in self-pity? Just give up and bugger to anyone else?" She takes two steps away when his words, barely above a whisper, stop her.

"I've thought about it."

"What?" A chill runs through her heart.

"Giving up…It wouldn't be that difficult, really. Hell, the river's right there. Who would miss me? My children hate me; my father has Alzheimer's and doesn't even know who I am. And you…" He looked at her. Her eyes were riveted to the ground.

"…haven't even looked me in the eyes since I went back to work." She is crying silently now, and he curses himself. He moves towards her to take her in his arms, but before he can do that, she punches him in the chest, several times…hard.

"Don't you dare!"

He stands there dumbly. He expects her to walk away, and is very confused when she doesn't. He takes a deep breath.

"I'm in a farmhouse and a shotgun is pointed at me. Although I should be, I'm not scared. Just disappointed. The gun goes off, and the pain is unbelievable. I think I'm dying, and all I want to do is to see your face again."

She is still crying, but for the first time that evening, their eyes meet. He's breathing like he's been running.

"What else do you remember?"

"Not much more. You were right, Ruth. There are some things I wish I didn't remember. But I still don't know anything about my children, and it bothers me very much that I still don't know how we met."

They are silent for a long time. When he does speak, his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Why did you say 'no'…when I asked you to the Embassy?"

"I was afraid."

"Of what?"

"Everything. Getting hurt. Hurting you. Being that woman." She felt foolish after all that's happened admitting how much she was affected by potential office gossip. She bit her lip, and he ventured closer to brush a tear off her cheek, and she put her head on his shoulder. He thought his heart would pound out of chest.

"Forgive me, Ruth…I'm a stubborn, selfish bastard and I wouldn't blame you if you dumped me in the river yourself." He felt rather than heard her laugh a little, and his heart lightened.

"Harry, I need you to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"Let someone help you. You can't go through this all by yourself."

"Collins just wants to write a paper about me."

"What difference does that make, if he helps you recover?" She reflexively put her hands out, stroking either side of his face. He closed his eyes at her touch and suddenly he knew that he didn't need his past to know that he had never felt like this about anyone in his life. For the first time he's realized that she is just as terrified as he is, and he's ashamed that it's taken him this long to figure it out.

"You're freezing, Ruth. Would you…come to mine? I can make dinner – I know where everything is now."

He's afraid that he asked too much and she'll bolt, until he saw the hint of a smile on her face.

"Only if you talk to Collins first."

He held out his hand, and she put her phone into his palm.

Author's Note: Thank you very much for all the kind reviews. I apologize for taking so long to update – I had a very boring, bad alternate version of this chapter mostly done, and then I got sick. Took a bit of time to totally rework the way this was headed and to get to the point where I could breathe through my nostrils again! I would love more reviews!