It was frightening when it happened, but the seizures never lasted long.

It had been a huge shock to Sam when Connie had started to fit – not least because she clearly knew it was going to happen – and had apparently been taking all sorts of precautionary measures to keep to keep it hidden from him. Of all the things she could have been hiding, this had never crossed his mind.

Sam knew how to deal with seizures -he was a doctor after all, and he'd had to care for Grace when she suffered an epileptic fit, so shocked as he was, he knew what to do. He soothed Connie as she kicked through it and gently laid her in the recovery position when it subsided. "Shhh, it's ok darling – it's over now, shhh." He whispered, stroking her head as she came too.

"Wa-t-er." She mumbled with a dry mouth.

"Ok, darling, I'll get you some water." He scooped her up. "and call an ambulance." He added, carrying her to the sofa.

"No – they can't help." She mumbled groggily as he put her down and wrapped the duvet around her. "Wat-er. Will. Ex-plain."

"Ok – I'll go and get the water. Just rest." he kissed her head, before making his way to the kitchen. He was even more scared by her answer, then he had been when she'd suddenly started fitting. He assumed that by 'they can't help' she meant the hospital – which suggested that this had been going on long enough for her to have had it investigated. How could she have hidden this from him for so long? Actually, she'd obviously managed to hide it from Charlie as well. He chided himself for leaving Holby, as he took her water back in.

With hindsight, he now knew why she's been taken so long in the shower-room earlier – she must have been having a fit. It would explain the scratch on her face and the banging he'd heard – not to mention why her hair had been so messy when she'd come out. She hadn't been able to explain that one.

"Con?" He whispered softly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him wearily. Now that she wasn't so focused on trying to hide it all from him, she realised how exhausted she was. He lifted her up slightly and sat behind her, propping her up and supporting her head while she sipped the water.

"Thanks." she murmured. Sam put the glass on the coffee table and sat back, as she lay down again, using him in place of a pillow. He switched the TV back on with the controller and turned the sound down. "I'm sorry." she whispered hoarsely. "I know I scared you."

"I'm a doctor - I've seen worse." He lied. Nothing could be worse than seeing the woman he loved – the powerhouse that was Connie Beauchamp, suddenly suffering a seizure. "Shh. Just rest sweetheart. You can explain when you feel up to talking, ok." he told her, brushing the hair out of her face as she closed her eyes again – worn-out.

What scared Sam the most was the lengths she had been going to in order to keep her secret. What could possibly be so bad that she couldn't tell anyone what was wrong? - that she couldn't tell him?She had clearly gone to the shower-room because she knew what was coming – and she had been so insistent about the fact that she had to stay at the hotel. Probably, he now realised, to avoid being alone with him, knowing an argument would probably ensue and bring on a seizure. Sam still had no idea what was causing her to fit – but he had no doubt that stress was a likely trigger.

A cold sweat washed over him as his mind jumped back to the evening before, when Connie had been out in the garden and had come back in with leaves in her hair. She had vehemently insisted that he stayed in the living room while she took Simba out – and the latter had been 'danger-barking' as Grace called it. Sam mentally kicked himself – he should have trusted his instincts when he heard Simba barking.

"Sam?" Connie mumbled as she woke up around 20 minutes later.

"Hey – how you feeling?" He asked kissing her head affectionately.

"Better, thanks."

"Do you want a cup of tea?" He suggested. " - and then we can talk a bit – if you feel up to it?"

"Mmm, that sounds nice." She agreed as he got up. He leaned to the counter as the kettle boiled, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever he was going to hear.

Connie took a deep breath whilst she waited for him to come back. She knew she owed him an explanation after the scare she'd given him – but at least he knew now. It felt like a whole weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"It's brain damage." she explained, when he'd sat down again. "I don't know whether you know, but during the crash, I sustained a really bad head injury."

"Like Grace? - is it Epilepsy?" Sam asked.

"No, not like Grace – it's a different part of my brain...and there's no medication." She added quietly. Sam didn't say anything, but let her continue. "I was so focused on Grace after the crash – I mean I thought she was going to die – and then during her recovery, I repeatedly messed up with her as usual and...I just ignored the signs – the headaches, buried myself with work...and then..." She paused, not wanting to make him feel bad – but knowing her next statement was certainly going to do that. "...you left." She continued quickly, seeing the devastated guilt cross his face. "They said that it's been getting worse, the more stressed and over-worked I've got. I'm putting pressure on my brain and not giving it the time it needs to heal – kind of like when you have a bad cut and keep picking it – it won't heal up."

"So...if you rest, it'll get better?" He whispered hopefully.

"Maybe." She answered. "...but it could take a long time. It's never going to go away completely, Sam – but they said if I rest, the fits might gradually become less...so now you know. I'm sorry, Sam – I didn't want to worry you...I'm not your problem – it's not your burden to carry."

But I want you to be my problem. Before he had the chance to voice his words, she continued.

"We should probably talk about...- you know..." She sat up slowly and reached for her tea.

"Con..." Sam leaned forward to pick up the steaming mug and handed it to her – his other arm dropping to embrace her shoulders. "The last thing I want is for you to have another fit..."

"I feel better now that you know." She admitted. "...but anyhow – like you said, Sam – we need to clear the air, otherwise it's just going to hang over us..." She kissed his cheek and sipped her tea. "I'll be ok, if we talk about it calmly."

"Ok," He agreed quietly, sipping his own tea. "Urm...you said you understand why I left?" He swallowed. "I...er...need to know what you think..."

She finished her tea and put the empty cup back on the table. Why would he make her say it out loud? - wasn't enough that they both knew? She lay back down again, still using him as a pillow and pulled the duvet back over her. "You took her to keep her safe, Sam" she answered confidently as he draped his arm over her. "You had to keep her safe, so you took her far away from me. I can understand that."

He stared at her. 'I can understand that'?! Well he as sure as hell didn't! "Wh-what?" he spluttered, setting his own empty cup down. "How does taking her away from her mother 'keep her safe', darling?"

It was Connie's turn to stare up at him now. She had been so sure that was the reason they left, but apparently it wasn't.

"It's obvious, isn't it!" A voice exclaimed and they both looked up as Grace appeared next to the sofa."

Sam cleared his throat, uncertain of just how much their daughter had heard. "You're supposed to be in bed, young lady!" he retorted.

"I know, Dad – and I was, but I was thirsty – so I came down for a drink." She sat down in front of Connie's stretched-out body. "Mum blames herself for the crash." She told Sam simply. "She thinks that she nearly killed me, so I'm safer away from her." Grace leaned over and gave Connie a kiss. "But it wasn't your fault, Mum." She told Connie. "- and you're the best Mum ever."

"She's right, Connie.." Sam agreed when Grace had gone into the kitchen. "The crash wasn't your fault."

"You can say that as many times as you like, Sam." She sighed. "...but I was still driving the car."

"Steph forced you off the road." He pointed out firmly.

"Yeah – and why did she do that, Sam?!" Connie retorted. "- because I got her daughter taken away!"

"Hey – shhh, darling." Sam soothed her – worried that she was getting herself in a state. "She was hurting her sweetheart – you did what you had to – it was the only thing you could do."

"Dad's right." Grace had come back in. She sat back down. "Steph was hurting Carmel – you saved my friend." She glanced at her Dad. "Have you told her?"

"What?"

Grace tutted at him impatiently. "Have you told Mum why we left?!"

Connie grasped the arm he had across her chest and looked up at him. "Yes, love – do tell! Why did you leave?"