John Brittingham rests in his hospital bed. Thinking of what his future will entail now that he's a murderer. That's the only explanation he can think of that would justify the guards at the entrance to his room. He opens his eyes, noticing someone in a wheelchair sitting there. "Bloody hell." He whispers to himself.

"Hello, John." Cameron smiles genuinely toward the man.

He seems terrified, unsure if his mind is playing tricks on him. "Are you haunting me?"

The younger man furrows his brow, his smile fading ever so slightly, "I'm sorry, haunting you?"

"It was an accident. If I was in the right mindset, it would have never happened." John shakes his head, "Listen, mate. You don't need to haunt me about it. I'm incredibly remorseful for killing you." He pauses, "I've killed lots of people. It was an order for them. I didn't mean it with you."

"What? No. I'm not dead, John." Cam reaches a hand out, offering the man to touch him, to see that he's real. "No, you just got a bit of my liver, is all. I'm totally fine. I've just been on a different floor."

Bernie returns her mobile to her pocket, sighing as she reenters the room, "I'm sorry. Cam, I'm going to need to make this quick and have a porter take you back up when you're ready. Seems Ms. Tate caught Marcus...acting out again. I'm not entirely certain what happened, but Serena's heading up as well."

"No problem."

The blonde turns her attention to the man in the bed, "Lieutenant, I've been told you're being a bit...cagey with information regarding history. Why is that?"

John furrows his brow a little, turning protective, "They don't need to know it."

"Except they do. This isn't your first cranial injury. Luckily, I was able to give them a heads up." Bernie keeps her hands at her sides, "You have four daughters and an ex-wife. You divorced before heading out on tour and went so that your children would have benefits. Your eldest daughter was eight when you left, your youngest two. They're now twenty-six and nineteen respectively. Meaning your other daughters, the twins, are twenty three. All of them have the ability to look after you once you leave this facility."

He appears nervous, swallowing, "How do you know all of that?"

"I can tell you more if you'd like." Her tone remains calm, tempting the man to mess with her.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Major Berenice Wolfe and it doesn't matter really because you shot my son...and instead of him wanting to press charges, he's seen to it that you receive the help you need. It's just a matter of you being...honest with us instead of blocking every attempt we, as a hospital, make to get you cared for." Bernie folds her arms over her chest, "You were discharged a few months before I left the military career life. You suffered a graze wound to the temple, which your doctors were able to ascertain from your scar."

"Wait...did you serve in Afghanistan?" John tries to sit himself up a bit.

"I treated you there." She nods a little, "Small world."

"I'll say."

Cameron listens between the two, "My Mum is going to see to it that you receive the treatment you need in terms of psychological care, housing assistance, and even finding a job if you'd like." He nods, "Do you think you could go through with something like that?"

"Why are you being so kind?" John leans his head back again, "I shot you."

"That's what I said." Bernie raises an eyebrow, "I've got to go. I'll follow up with you during the week." She makes her exit through the open doorway, unsure of what she's about to walk into in regards to the CEO's office.

"And I saw a troubled man before you did." Cam says honestly, "I saw a man who had nothing else to live for and just wanted to end his own suffering. Even if that meant to harm yourself. That gun wasn't meant for me or my nurse...it was meant for yourself."

"How did you-" The older man swallows, his jaw tightening, "What does it matter? My children don't know me. They call someone else their father. I...don't do well with other people-"

"When my Mum was brought back from Afghanistan, it was via helicopter and she was blown up by an IED. She had an unstable neck fracture and cardiac pseudoaneurysm. My sister and I thought she was going to die. There was no question. One of the first times I ever saw my sister, as an adult, cry." His tone sincere, "And I realized there was so much I didn't know about her...I didn't know my own mother. Not because she and my father were divorced or separated at the time, that came after, but because of her time away. My father...kept pretty quiet about what was happening there. Kept quiet about how they were together."

"Bad luck to talk about someone while they're stationed away." John explains before going quiet for a moment, "Do you really think my children will...want to know me?"

"Worth a shot, isn't it?" Cam smirks, "No pun intended. We can start with the oldest and work our way on down...or I can have my Mum look into their current living situations. Feel out what our chances are."

"Why would your Mum be willing to do all that for me?"

"Because I asked her to." Cameron nods, "Parents go above and beyond for their children...and I don't really ask my mother for much to begin with."

John feels tears forming in his eyes before a relieved smile grows on his face, "Thank you."