Thanks for the reviews, they're great! I love to see what people think of this AU, especially as it becomes increasingly so—although I'm planning on using several ideas from 9B in the next handful of 'episodes' but obviously with my own spin.

loveistheprotection: Thanks! Yeah, the Connor-Simon relationship is one I'll probably develop further for reasons that will become clear.

guest of honor: LOL, glad you're enjoying it. No, no plans to kill off Sue. She's much more valuable where she is!

Hannah: You'll find out some of Sue's response here; more coming.

Paisley: Exactly. I initially wrote Simon out of the first story because I'd set him up as a villain and the more we saw of canon-Simon the harder it became to write him like that. But then towards the end of the first story the explanation for Simon's behaviour occurred and I wanted to write it, so…!

Sue Spark: You might find yourself in more pain before you're done! :P

SweetiesNCupcakes: Thanks! Will need to do more Sue/Christine, I think. It's a fun dynamic to write.

Niamhemiliee: As you see, usually every week/nine days or so. This is a slightly longer chapter than usual!

AmyOnce: Thanks :)

Jessiekat89: What, and give everything away at once? No chance!

Mr Clarkson's office, 2.00pm

Tom was frowning over an email he'd found in his inbox on his return from the curriculum meeting when Christine's head appeared around his door.

'Lunch?'

He glanced up from his laptop. 'Bit late, isn't it?'

'I waited for you. Did some departmental work during lunch and it's my form's P.E. afternoon—not that they deserve it after the stunt they pulled today,' she ended grimly. She indicated the seat in front of his desk. 'So—?'

'Yeah, course. Come in. I wanted to talk to you anyway.'

Her smile faded as she sat down, her hands freezing over the top of her sandwich box. 'That sounds…very official.'

'H'mm.' He flipped his laptop around so that the screen was facing her. 'Know anything about this?'

Her eyes widened as she scanned it. 'It's from Sue!'

'Yeah, and coherency isn't her strong point, it seems. I gather you know something about it. Want to translate?'

He watched as her gaze narrowed as she read it again. 'I'm not seeing any indication that she's sent it to Simon.'

He looked at her. 'Simon?'

'Yeah.' Her smile turned catlike. 'I warned her. I told her that she could tell you and Lowsley about what happened this morning or I'd take it further. I didn't really expect her to do it so… interesting. Our Miss Spark must have a few dirty secrets herself, h'mm? Perhaps something her father doesn't know or care to have enter the public domain.'

Tom blew out an exasperated breath through his nose. 'Christine. Please. What happened?'

She explained and he groaned, rubbing his hands up his face. 'God, we really messed up with her, didn't we? Poor Kacey, that's all she needs.'

Christine's lips thinned. 'I'm worried about her, Tom. Can't you do something? And don't say you can't,' she added. 'You're the one who pushed me into going to see Dynasty, and we all know that Kacey thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread. As for Sue… well.' Once again, her smile was catlike and Tom experienced a prickle of alarm as he remembered Christine's first term at Waterloo Road.

'Chris, for pity's sake don't start stirring. She's still Bain's daughter and Simon's fiancée, keep out of it for your own sake.' She didn't answer, but her deliberate shifting on her seat told him she didn't agree. 'Please, love,' he tried again. 'We've got enough on our plates, haven't we?' A thought occurred to him. 'Did you tell Connor?'

She beamed. 'Yeah, he said it was great, he just wants me—us—to be happy. He's such a good boy, Tom,' she added softly. 'I don't know how it happened, because God knows it's not because of me.'

Tom sighed deeply, hating what he was about to ask. 'Are you sure he meant it?'

Christine's smile faded. 'What?'

'When he said it was great?'

Her stance became defensive. 'What are you saying? That my son's lying?About this?'

'Apparently he kicked the cooler door in. The caretaker's gonna have a look.' He hesitated. 'There might be damages payable.'

He didn't think she'd heard the last bit; she was blinking dazedly.

'When?'

'Just after twelve, Simon said.'

'Simon?' She gave a harsh laugh. 'And you believed him?'

'I'd no reason not to,' Tom said softly.

'No reason?' Christine pushed her chair back from the desk and rose, leaning across in a manner that some might find threatening. 'No reason, really? This is Simon Lowsley we're talking about!'

'Yeah, and the guy's done nothing but try to make amends since he got back here!' Tom pushed to his own feet. 'Chris, I don't know what was going on with him last term, I'm not condoning what happened then, you know I'm not, but he's made it clear he's sorry. How long are you gonna carry a grudge for, eh?'

They glared at each other, bright blue locking with hazel, until Christine's shoulders slumped and she turned away. It was all the incentive he needed to go to her, pulling her into a hug.

'Hey, it's OK,' he murmured into her hair. 'Whatever it is, whatever's going on in Connor's head, we'll deal with it.'

'He said he thought it was great,' he heard her whisper. 'Why lie about it? He knows how much I—' She broke off and he remained quiet, willing her to feel the love and support of his embrace. After a moment she pulled away, one hand dashing at her eye. 'Maybe it wasn't that at all. His mock results have been a long way from stellar. He and Imogen had a domestic over it—right in the middle of my lesson, if you please.'

Tom kissed her quickly, glad to see that she looked brighter, less stricken. 'There you go. Did you give them a stern talking-to?' He tried to keep his face straight and received a narrow-eyed look in response, together with a stiff poke in the stomach.

'Tom Clarkson, are you making fun of me?'

He allowed his eyes to go owlishly wide. 'Me? Wouldn't dream of it. Otherwise I'd be the one getting the stern talki—ouch!'

'Serves you right,' Christine told him austerely, but her eyes were sparkling and he found himself grinning once more—like a loon, as she'd said that morning. She glanced at the clock. 'Nearly time for the bell and Mika's in with me next lesson. Do you have her folders there, by the way? I promised I'd look at them.'

Tom handed them over. 'Here you go. You two getting on now?'

She flipped the red one open. 'So-so. She doesn't treat me like a scarlet woman any more, if that's what you mean. Why?'

'Oh, nothing,' Tom said quickly, his mind flashing back to his conversation with Mika that morning. 'Just wondered. Didn't want to have two of my three favourite women at odds, did I? And Chlo's not here to give Mika a kick in the pants when she needs it.'

'H'mm. I'm sure you remedy any problems yourself—with a stern talking-to!' she finished, eyeing him over the top of Mika's folder.

He guffawed. 'Maybe I'll just leave it to you, you're so good at it. Hey,' he grabbed her arm as she turned to go, 'you still going to the Barrys' this afternoon?'

She nodded. 'Yeah. I promised, didn't I?'

'Take Kacey? Offer her a lift or something and see how she's doing.'

'Sure. See you at home?'

He nodded. 'Looking forward to it. Pizza night, isn't it?'

'Anything you like, provided I'm not cooking it!'

He was still grinning when the door closed behind her, but the grin faded as he returned to his laptop and Sue's still-open email. The young woman was clearly in trouble and Tom found that he was starting to feel sorry for her. It difficult to pinpoint why; Christine's rendition of the morning's events did nothing to cast Sue in a good light, but he couldn't escape the feeling that Sue was nearing the end of her tether, and as an NQT the school owed her professional support. Personally he knew she was becoming increasingly isolated in the staffroom as the old hands rallied around Christine; only Mika had shown her anything resembling friendship. Maybe that was the way forward, he mused. Put them together for training? It would make life easier for the senior staff too, if they only had to co-ordinate one professional development session a week instead of two. One way or another something had to be done—or there would be trouble for more than simply Sue.

Waterloo Road Car Park, 3.25pm

Christine was leaning against her car boot, watching carefully for Kacey Barry. Students streamed past her, including Connor and Imogen, but now was not the time, even when Imogen cast her a puzzled look and jerked her head towards Connor, stalking forward with his hands buried deep in his jacket pocket. Christine could only shake her own head—and then she had to move when she spotted Harley Taylor and Lula Tsibi.

'No Kacey?' she called.

'She's comin',' Harley explained. 'Miss Boston wanted a word, she shouldn't be long.'

'OK, thanks.' Christine smiled at them. 'Off you go, you two.'

'We are waiting for Kacey, miss,' Lula said reproachfully. 'We can't just leave.'

'To walk her home?' Two black heads nodded in unison. 'I'm giving her a lift, I need to speak to Dynasty. She'll be fine, I'll look after her.'

'Someone needs to, miss,' Harley said fiercely. 'She's been well upset all day, ever since that cow laid into her this mornin'.'

'Miss Spark should be sacked,' Lula supplemented with an emphatic gesture. 'She—'

Christine lifted a hand. 'That's enough, Lula. It can't have been easy for Miss Spark either, you know. How would you like having to teach your lot plus Mr Duffin's class?'

The pair exchanged a look. Harley turned sheepish, but Lula's chin lifted in that regal way she had.

'I would not speak to anyone as Miss Spark spoke to us this morning. It was wrong. I would find some other way. There is always another way, one simply has to find it.'

Christine sighed, knowing as she did something of Lula's background. Lula would find another way, she believed, but she'd a feeling that Sue Spark had never suffered as Lula had; she'd never had to develop the steely self-reliance and unflinching determination that was such a core part of the Congolese girl's strength.

'Here's Kace anyway,' Harley commented, nodding towards a solitary Kacey coming down the few steps that lead into the car park. 'Hi, Kacey! Over here, Mrs M wants yer!'

Kacey approached slowly, her eyes wary, and Christine's lips pinched thin in renewed anger against Sue.

'You're proper lucky, mate,' Harley greeted. 'Miss is gonna give you a lift, she says.' He turned big eyes on his former Headmistress. 'Can't you give us one an' all?'

Christine laughed. 'And get lectured by Mrs Budgen and Miss McFall for depriving you of exercise? Nice try, but you're on your own for this one.'

Harley grinned. 'Worth a go, innit.'

'Miss is right,' Lula announced, rolling her eyes in Christine's direction as she dragged Harley off. 'You are getting lazy. You spend too much time in front of the TV, or with those games you bought with your money. You will get fat and unhealthy. In my country—'

Christine turned to Kacey, still smiling in amusement. 'She keeps him on the straight and narrow, doesn't she?'

Kacey glanced at her from under her eyelashes and gave a twitch of the shoulders. 'Guess so.'

'Come on,' Christine said, deliberately gentling her tone. 'Let's get you home, eh? I'm coming to have a word with your Dynasty,' she added when Kacey's brow crunched in confusion.

The girl nodded and stood like a statue while Christine unlocked the door and slid into the driving seat, urging Kacey to do likewise with a gesture. If she'd hoped that Kacey would open up once they were in the privacy of the car she was disappointed, for she remained resolutely silent, and it was Christine who started the conversation once they hit the coast road.

'How're you doing after this morning?'

Kacey's head was turned away and for an endless moment Christine thought she wasn't going to answer.

Then, 'Fine.'

Christine heaved a quiet sigh. This was like getting blood from a stone. 'Did… have you heard from Miss Spark again today?'

That did cause Kacey to glance at her, sideways, like a startled horse.

'No.'

'No?' Christine echoed.

'Should I have?'

'To apologise, Kacey. What she said this morning was… it was unforgivable, a teacher isn't allowed to talk to her pupils like that!'

The girl resumed her averted position. 'I've 'eard worse, miss. Bein' a Barry an' all, you get used to it.'

'That's no excuse!'

'Just leave it, yeah,' Kacey said, weariness clear in her tone. 'Honest, miss. I appreciate it, honest I do, but I don't want a fuss. Don't tell me mum, either, please?'

Christine was genuinely startled. It had never occurred to her that Kacey might not want to take things further, that the younger Barry girl would not share her sister's thirst for justice—or revenge.

'Please?'

'Fine,' Christine conceded. 'Fine, if you don't want to take it further, that's your choice. Just remember, you know where to find me if you change your mind, h'mm?'

'I won't,' Kacey said. 'It's not important, it's not worth it. Miss Spark, she's just a kid, she knows nothin'. I can't 'ate her for that, can I.'

'That's … very mature of you, Kacey.' Christine turned the car into the cul-de-sac where the Barrys lived. 'Very grown up. Not many people of your age would see it like that.'

'Wouldn't they? Maybe it's just I know better, don't I? After Barry … stupid stuff, little stuff, doesn't matter no more. Me brother's dead. Gettin' angry, that's not gonna bring 'im back. It's not gonna put things right.'

'No.' Christine parked the car outside the Barry home and turned to face her pupil, her hands still resting on the steering wheel. 'No, it's not going to bring Barry back, you're right there, but that doesn't mean—it doesn't mean you cut yourself off from life, Kace. You can't protect yourself forever by cutting yourself off from people or feelings or whatever … however you do that, whether it's through drink or drugs or whatever, it's not the answer. Believe me.'

'I'm fine, miss,' Kacey said in the toneless voice that was starting to worry Christine deeply. 'I'm not drinkin' or doin' drugs, I'm not that thick.' The older woman winced, but Kacey didn't seem to notice. She undid her belt and opened the door. 'Does me mum know you're comin'?'

'No, do you want to tell her?'

Kacey gave her a long look. 'Nah, it'll be fine. An' if you can get Dyn out of her room… Mum'll be that made up she won't care anyway.'

'Well, I'll try,' Christine promised as she vacated the car and locked it. She gestured towards the door. 'Go on, I'll follow.'

Barry household, 3.45pm

'Dynasty?' Christine knocked gently on the bedroom door. 'Dynasty, it's Christine. May I come in?'

The door opened a chink. 'What're you doin' here?'

'I want to talk to you. Let me in, love. Please?'

Dynasty allowed her in and Christine suppressed a sigh. The girl stood awkwardly, her hair clipped out of the way, and refused to meet Christine's gaze. A glance about the room told the older woman what she'd been doing: books covered every available surface, and one corner had become home to a veritable mountain of scrunched up paper.

Christine indicated it. 'Doing coursework?'

'Tryin' to,' Dynasty growled. 'I'm wastin' me time. Was trying to do that research project for McFall, an' it just gets worse an' worse. The drama's no better, I'm supposed to write a short play, but I'm rubbish at that. An' then there's that Hamlet coursework for you—!'

Christine gathered a pile of textbooks together and dumped them on the floor before taking the empty space they'd left on the bed. The springs bounced beneath her as she sat down, and she closed her eyes against an unexpected wave of weariness.

'Miss? Christine, are you OK?'

'Yeah.' Christine opened her eyes and smiled at Dynasty, who was kneeling before her, blue eyes anxious. 'Just been a long day. I'm looking forward to that tea your mum said she'd send up.'

Dynasty bounded to her feet with all her old energy. 'I'll get it right away, you just sit tight!' She went to her door and bellowed, 'Mum! Get Mrs Mulgrew's tea up, would yer?'

A yell drifted back and Dynasty turned with a grimace. 'Be right back. Gotta get it meself an' all.'

She left on the word and Christine leaned forward to lift a ball of scrunched up paper that lay at her feet, her fingers smoothing out the crumples. It was an attempt at her own coursework she saw, and a quick read told her it was a good start. Why had Dynasty rejected it? Plenty of students would have been happy to submit that effort as a final piece and be done with it—Connor included, she feared. She glanced up as the door opened to admit Dynasty, armed with a pair of monster mugs wafting steam.

'Here, black tea, innit?'

Christine accepted hers with a nod and took a sip. It was hot and strong and coursed through her, lending its warmth. 'What've you been doing, Dyn?' she asked softly, indicating the paper on her lap. 'This is good. Why did you toss it?'

The girl shrugged. 'Wasn't good enough, was it?' She began to chew her lip. 'I've changed me mind, miss. I wanna do me exams like everyone else an' that means I need to pull me finger out. I want to go to uni, I want to make somethin' of meself, I wanna put all—all this behind me and forget it 'appened.'

'I understand that. I do, you know I do, but… this isn't the way, shutting yourself up like this. You can't escape this kind of thing, Dynasty. You bring it with you. You learn to live with it.—and you let the people who love you help you along the way. You're not alone.'

Dynasty's head fell forward. 'No?'

'No. Come on, talk to me. What's going on with you and Kevin, h'mm? Why are you pushing him away?'

'I'm scared!' Dynasty blurted. 'Crap happens when people get close to us Barrys, and Kevin's got too close, me mum treats him like he was Barry come back sometimes, an' he's not! I don't want 'im as me brother, I had a brother and he's gone. And then when he was made Head Boy…!'

'Don't you think he can do the job?'

Dynasty scoffed. ''Course 'e can, he's Kev, yeah? He's brilliant, he can do anythin', go anywhere. When he's done with his exams the world's gonna be his oyster, everyone says so. He's not gonna want to be stuck with me, is he?'

Christine put her empty cup on the floor. 'That's for him to decide, not you.' She paused. 'He's a good lad, Dynasty. He's loyal and he loves you—but you can't expect him to wait forever if you keep pushing him away. The same goes for your mum and Kacey; they're hurting too and if you keep shutting them out you may find that one day you'll turn around looking for them—and it'll be too late.'

Dynasty was studying the carpet, picking at the tufts. 'That's what happened to you, isn't it?'

Christine groaned and allowed herself to slide down beside the girl. 'Yeah. You could say that. It wasn't quite the same; my parents had already said they'd have nothing to do with me and Connor and … well, by the time I thought I'd like things to be different, I'd like Connor to have grandparents, it was too late. For them and for me.'

'I'm scared,' Dynasty repeated, looking up at Christine through her lashes. 'I'm scared I'll always be like this.'

'So do something about it,' Christine advised. 'Take the first step. It'll be hard, I won't pretend otherwise, but let them in. Your mum and Kacey need you—Kacey, especially. Ask her about school today, h'mm? And Kevin, he's been in a sticky position since he was appointed Head Boy, thinking you didn't want him.'

'An' Imogen?' Dynasty asked with a touch of aggression. 'She still hangin' out with that Louisa?' Christine nodded, and Dynasty's lips pressed together in a thin line before she blew out a gusty sigh. 'I have to get over meself, don't I? She kept calling and I wouldn't take her calls an' now she's stopped.' She hesitated before adding, 'She's still sendin' messages, like. She hasn't forgot me. She's a good mate, even when I've been crap.'

'She is. You just need to give her a chance and then Louisa won't have it all her own way!'

Dynasty grinned. 'Too right, miss.' She shuffled closer to Christine. 'Thanks.'

Christine put an arm around her. 'I'm always here—but please, Dyn, no more attacking teachers, h'mm? Otherwise I'll have to come down on you like a ton of bricks, just because people at school know we're close. Things have changed and we need to be careful, understood?'

Dynasty nodded solemnly.

'Good. See you on Monday? Unless you're coming round this weekend?'

The girl looked uncertain. 'Can I?'

Christine laughed. ''Course you can. Come on, come over on Sunday. Give you a chance to patch things with Imogen before school.'

'Yeah. Yeah!' Dynasty was looking happier by the minute. 'I'll start right away, with me mum and our Kace.'

'I'd better go, then, hadn't I, and let you get started.' Christine groaned internally as she thought of home and what awaited her there: another difficult conversation with Connor. 'Up you get, Miss Barry, and give your old English teacher a hand up.'

Dynasty complied with a smirk, her eyes dancing, and relief flooded through Christine as she regained her feet. Dynasty would be fine, she knew it. One way or another, she'd muddle through.

If only she could be so sure about her own family…

Mulgrew Household, 4.30pm

'Aren't you doin' your homework?'

Connor turned to look at his wife from his flopped-out face-down position across their bed. 'I'll do it later.'

'You always say that. Come on,' she tried to coax, pulling at his hand. 'Let's do it together, yeah?'

'There's no point. You'd just rocket on ahead and I'd be left trailing behind, as usual.' He removed his hand from her grasp to beat his pillow and flip it round. 'I think I'm wasting my time doin' A'levels.'

Imogen rolled onto the bed beside him, her large eyes fixed unblinkingly on his. 'Connor, what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing, you haven't been yourself all day. Are you worried about your results?'

For a moment he nearly allowed her to think that. She'd try to reassure him about their shared future and such would be her conviction, her absolute certainty, that he'd find himself believing her and for a while all would be well. And then he remembered his mother's announcement; all their hopes for the future could be so easily shattered, and Imogen didn't even know yet… He swallowed hard, struggling against the wave of panic that seemed to grip him by the throat.

'Con?'

He had to lick his lips twice before he could say, 'It's Mum.'

Her eyes widened. 'What? How'd you mean?'

'When she kept me back earlier?' She nodded. 'She wanted to talk about her and Tom.'

His wife's features split in a wide smile and she sat up. 'Are they getting married?'

'That's what I thought, but Mum says not… no, it's worse.'

Imogen frowned. '"Worse"? Connor, I thought you liked Tom!'

'I did! I do! I mean, he's miles and miles better than Byrne was, yeah? But… he left, didn't he? Mum loved him but he left anyway. What if Tom doesn't stick around? And this is worse, 'cos—' He broke off as they heard the front door slam and his mother call his name.

Connor squared his jaw and remained where he was, ignoring the look of confusion on Imogen's face.

The call came a second time.

'Connor, would you come down here? I need to talk to you!'

Imogen looked at him questioningly.

'She wants to talk,' he said hoarsely.

'You'd better go,' his wife murmured. 'No point in getting her back up.'

He caught at her hand. 'Come with me? Please?'

She looked dubious. 'I don't know. What if—'

'Please, Im? I need you. I can't face her without you.'

'OK.' The grey-green eyes he loved studied him and she leaned forward to steal a kiss. 'Course I'll come with you.'

'OK.' His grasp on her hand tightened. 'C'mon.'

He led her from his room and down the panelled staircase to the kitchen where—as expected—he found his mother. She was leaning against the island, her jacket slung casually over one of the chair backs, her lips pressed thin in that angry line that always set his stomach to churning.

Her gaze went straight to Imogen as they entered. 'Imogen, could you give us a minute?'

Connor glared. 'She's staying. I want her to stay.'

He felt Imogen's fingers twist in his so that she was holding him instead of the other way round. 'He's my husband, Christine. Whatever you're going to say, it affects me too.'

His mother's expression was unreadable. She sighed. 'Fine. Have it your own way. Connor, what happened this afternoon, h'mm? Tom says you kicked in the cooler door. Why?'

He refused to look at her, developing a sudden fascination for the window behind her right shoulder.

'Connor!' He glanced up and caught her eye. 'Was it anything to do with the chat we had earlier?'

He shrugged. 'Maybe.'

'You told me you thought it was great. Are you telling me that you lied?'

Once again he remained quiet. Imogen's fingers on his tightened to the point of pain and he looked at her.

'What am I missin'?' she asked softly. 'What's Christine talking about?'

His mother cut in before he could answer. 'With all due respect, Imogen, this is nothing to do with you!'

For Connor, that was the final straw.

'Nothin' to do with her? Who d'you think'll be bringing up your kid when you've gone back to the drink? It'll be Imogen, Mum, Imogen and me 'cos I'll be damned if I let you do to another kid what you've done to me. It's not happenin', d'you hear me?' His mum whitened and Connor heard Imogen's gasp, but he was on a roll and he couldn't choke himself off. 'So if you're not pregnant yet just quit while you're ahead, yeah? 'Cos it'll be better if that kid's never born, just like it'd have been better if I'd never been born!'

He came to a stop, breathing hard, his head pounding from the reverberating echoes of his own voice mingling with the roaring of his pulse. Gradually the internal tumult ceased and as he returned to something resembling sanity he realised his wife and mother were staring at him, wearing matching expressions of shock.

'Connor—' Imogen tried.

It broke the spell and his mum made a queer sound. Connor's stomach churned anew, this time from a different cause.

'Mum—'

'I think you've said quite enough,' his mother spat, her eyes glittering. 'It's OK, you've made yourself clear. I should've known better than to talk to you about it, as if I could ever talk to you about anything. You just go ahead, get your exams and walk away to live your perfect little life and forget about me, because let's be honest, that's what you're dying to do!'

'I-I didn't mean it th-that way,' Connor stuttered.

'No? Because that's sure as hell what it sounded like! Tell me, what am I supposed to do when you're gone?'

'There's Tom,' Connor pointed out through stiff lips, ignoring his own fears on that score. 'Mum, he's not goin' anywhere, you don't have to have another kid 'cos you're scared of being alone!'

'And did it never occur to you, sweetheart, that perhaps I might like to try being a mum in the normal way?' He flinched at her tone. 'You know, choose to have a kid, enjoy a pregnancy, plan for the birth… Am I not allowed to have that, eh? Is that my punishment, to never have that one simple thing that everyone else has?' Her voice broke.

Connor's throat was so tight he could hardly breathe, let alone speak. He shook his head. ''M sorry,' he managed.

His mother stared at him for a long moment. 'I'm sorry,' she said at last in a near-whisper that was more devastating than a shout would have been, 'but your sorry isn't good enough. Not this time.'

She left then, closing the door behind her with such gentleness that Connor only just heard it click. He ran frantic fingers through his hair, his thoughts scuttling like frightened animals in a trap as he replayed the events of the past fifteen minutes in his mind.

How the hell was he ever going to fix this?

TBC!