Miranda was sitting in the chair beside Hart's bed. The dull hiss of the ventilator and the beep of the heart monitor went on in the background. She took Hart's hand in hers. The bullet they'd removed from his chest had been meant for Gwen's head. The former Time Agent had reacted quicker than Miranda. He'd propelled himself into the bullet's path much to Gwen's own shock. The bullet had severed a major vein in his chest and severely damaged one of his lung lobes. The bleeding had collapsed his lung and put pressure on his heart. The surgeons had had to remove the lung lobe and repair the significant vascular damage. Hart had lost a great deal of blood and had stopped breathing before the surgery and twice afterwards. They now had a tube down his throat and a machine breathing for him. Miranda still wasn't sure how his body would react to the several units of twenty first century blood they had had to transfuse into him.

She stroked Hart's hand, feeling the smooth hot skin. Suddenly there was a pressure between her temples. By the Gods, I hope that is Ifan… she thought as she dropped Hart's hand and scrubbed at her face. A few seconds later, the curtain was drawn back and Ianto was standing there with a cylindrical black case, gaping at Hart. Miranda knew her sword was inside. She took it from him and leaned it against the bed. She tapped her mobile phone, activating the noise killing app.

"Any new developments at the water plant?" Miranda asked.

"UNIT is finishing there now under our direction." His voice was stiff and formal.

"Any more information out of our prisoner?" she asked.

Ianto's eyes darkened. "They're still treating his injuries."

"Gwen's bleeding heart must be catching…" she said sarcastically.

"I thought you put the Horsemen behind you, Mandy," he said, snapping at her a bit.

She shook her head. "It is never behind me. I already have plenty of blood on my hands, what's a little more? I used to do it because I enjoyed it. It was fun. Now? I do it because I can. Sometimes the ends don't justify the means but sometimes those means are the only way. I let it blacken my soul because there is no redemption for me. Would you have done what was necessary, Ifan? Could Fish? Or Gwen?"

Whenever a hard choice needed to be made or a trigger needed to be pulled, it was always Miranda stepping up to do the job. She didn't look up at Ianto once. Her face remained downcast, staring at Hart's immobile hand. He didn't say anything, just stood there with his arms hugging his own chest, his eyes staring at his shoes. He couldn't believe someone had managed to one up Jack on a martyr complex. He'd successfully chipped away at Jack's, slow bit by slow bit. Miranda was his friend but the idea of beginning to chip away at hers was daunting. She'd had thousands of years to build hers up. He decided to pick and choose his battles and changed the subject.

"UNIT is coordinating with us. I just came by to give you your sword and collect you. Colonel Ashline is coming to the Hub for a debriefing."

Miranda looked to Hart.

"We've set up a rota. Gwen's coming to relieve you for the meeting," Ianto said.

Gwen?! was Miranda's incredulous thought. She barely had time to wrap her head around the idea when Gwen pulled back the curtain. The former PC blanched at the sight. Hart was on his back, tubes and monitoring equipment everywhere. Gwen couldn't stop staring at the ventilator as it worked.

"Oh my God…" she gasped. "Is he going to die?"

Miranda felt her heart constrict at the idea. "We don't know. The next twenty four hours are critical."

The nurses were casting the three of them nervous looks.

"Ifan? Let's go. We're making the staff jumpy. Gwen? They have my mobile. They are to call me for even the slightest change or question."

Gwen nodded as she settled into the chair next to Hart's bed. Once Ianto and Miranda were out of sight, Gwen sighed and shook her head. She still couldn't believe what Hart had done. This wasn't like when he'd pulled Fish to safety. Hart had shouted her name as a warning. He hadn't thought. He hadn't hesitated. He'd just… leapt in front of her. Gwen had thought he was about to attack her. She'd started to raise her arms to defend herself that was until she'd seen Hart laying on the floor, clutching at his chest. The blood seeping through his fingers had startled her, stunned would've been a better word actually. Her mind had refused to believe it. Had this bastard just taken a bullet for her?

For a split second, Gwen had wanted to just leave him there. Let him bleed to death… an evil part of her brain had snickered. The image of Tosh laying bleeding to death, exactly the same way, had filled her mind. Gwen had remembered the split second of fear on Tosh's face as she'd realised it was the end… but then she'd remembered the peace. It'd been at that moment Gwen had noticed the peace on Hart's face. His head had been turned at an awkward angle, an angle that must have been excruciating given his injury. He'd been watching Miranda and Gwen had recognised that look too. It was the same way that Rhys looked at her.

At that moment, Gwen had dropped to her knees, yanked his red jacket aside and ripped the stained t-shirt open. She'd watched, as the blood bubbled from the wound, foaming out of it. She'd ripped off her jacket and balled it up, pressing it into the wound, hard. Hart had yelped out of pain and surprise. He'd tried to speak but couldn't. He'd kept trying to twist his head, searching for Miranda with his eyes. She'd seized Hart's face, twisting him to look at her and had shouted at him, Do you think I want to be indebted to the likes of you? Live. If not to prove me wrong than for her.

She patted Hart's hand and said quietly, "Maybe I was wrong about you, Vera…"