The words Harry had said to him, hit Dempsey hard. Very hard. He turned around. Not knowing directly what to say. He just stood there glued to the ground and saw Harry still sitting on the bed with her arms around her knees cuddled up like a baby. She was rocking or she wanted to comfort herself by doing it. She looked so small, so vulnerable. She was right, he was a bastard. She had been through so much by her own and the only think he could come up with, was to make it even worse for her. She had been so brave. He doubted if he had been able to cope with everything the same way as she had done.
"You know something......" he heard her saying: "I couldn't even forget you, if I wanted, because Sophia reminds me day after day on you. She's a little copy of you"
Dempsey got the feeling as if he had a lump in his throat. He could hardly breathe anymore. His daughter looked like him! And suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fall into place. That photo that Chas had hidden in his drawer on which Harry was standing with a little girl. That he hadn't seen it before! He felt so stupid. The similarity, the same face, the same hair colour, the same eyes. That was Sophia. That was his daughter!
When Harry slightly turned her head, she saw Dempsey standing in the middle of the bedroom with his hands in his pockets and at the look on his face, she knew that he finally realised who that little girl on the photo next to her was.
"Who gave you that photo?" Harry asked with a small voice.
"Chas" he answered with a small voice as well.
"How?"
"I got that photo by accident the first day I got back to the SI10. Harry, listen. I'm so sorry, I really am. I never thought that we have been able to create something so beautiful as Sophia"
Harry gave him a weak smile.
"You are so right. I'm a bastard. I should have let you tell the whole story. The only excuse I can give you about that is, that I got a little impatient. I realise that now. And that you named our son after me.....You have no idea how thrilled I'm with that. I hope...I hope he looked like his beautiful mother?" Dempsey added, hoping that this time he had said the right words.
"He did" was all Harry said trying hard now not to cry again in front of him. But after biting her lip a few times and trying hard to hold her composure, she failed miserably. And before she knew it, she was sobbing again. But this time the sobbing almost pierce him through. Now that she had finally told him what she had been hidden for him for such a long time she felt a big relief inside. But also realising how hard it must be for him that he would never been able to see his son.
Seeing Harry sobbing uncontrollably now made Dempsey return and climb back into the bed. For him it didn't matter anymore, if she should try to push him away. He wouldn't let her do that. She had been right. She needed him as much as he needed her. When Harry felt this time Dempsey's protective and strong arms around her, she cried as she had never done before. She had been so strong outside when little James died. Amazed everyone. Angela had once said to her that she didn't understand how she could be so calm, showing hardly no emotion at all about what had happened. But Harry knew back then already that there would be only one person with which she could share her feelings of deep grief: James Dempsey the father of her children. And now finally that moment had come, she couldn't control herself anymore. She clung to him as she would never let him go again. Dempsey's right hand was stroking her hair while his left hand laid around her waist now. Then, crying out her own pain, she felt something dropping on her face. It were Dempsey's silent tears. She squeezed his hand. They didn't say a word, they were only sitting there on the bed together comforting and supporting each other. Sometime later Harry switched position and made herself comfortable lying across him. She still felt the security of his arms around her when she slowly dozed away. From far away she heard him whispering: "Try to get some sleep Princess, tomorrow will be another day".
With Harry lying peacefully and finally fast asleep in his arms, Dempsey had time to start things over. There were so many questions he wanted to ask. If Harry had taken photos of his son, where his daughter had been during Harry's stay in the hospital and now in the rehabilitation centre. Tomorrow he hoped to get some answers on all these, so far, unspoken questions.
*****
Darkness went, the sun rose but the two of them didn't noticed it. They slept till around 10:00 a.m. It was Harry who woke up first. She got used to the fact to stand up around 8:00 every day now, so she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw on her watch that it was 2 hours later already. She yawned and turned her head. Somewhere during the night she must have slipped out of Dempsey's arms, because she found herself lying on her left side facing Dempsey who was lying in the bed next to her in his usual position with his right arm covert under the pillow.
Harry yawned and tried to stretch her legs. She groaned when she found her right leg stiffen and her right foot hurting like hell.
"What's the matter?" she heard Dempsey say with great concern in his voice.
"Nothing to worried about" she comfort him: "I think, you have to get used to the fact that I'll do that much often in the future. Especially when I wake up. It looks like then of all my muscles in my right leg are protesting. If they have to find there correct place first before they will start doing anything at all"
Harry rolled over to lie on her back feeling Dempsey still watching.
"What now?" she asked when he obvious had no intention to stop staring at her.
"I'm still asking myself if you are indeed lying here next to me in bed. Or that I'm perhaps dreaming as I had so many dreams about this in the past"
Harry smiled: "No you're not dreaming. I'm real"
"Just wanted to check"
"You idiot!"
"Well, good morning then" he bent over to give her a kiss on her cheek: "Are you hungry?"
"As a matter of fact, yes I am" she answered hearing her stomach rumbling at the same time.
"Breakfast is on its way" Dempsey swept his legs out of the bed and wanted to walk away to the kitchen.
"Wait a minute" he stopped when he heard Harry saying behind him: "What kind of breakfast do you have in mind?"
"The usual"
"Oh, I was afraid already that you would say that. That means an American one with a hamburger or something"
"Harry!" Dempsey tried not to look hurt: "When I say breakfast, I mean breakfast"
"Okay. Surprise me then"
"You don't have to do anything. I'll be back before you miss me"
"Who said, I'll miss you?"
They looked at each other and started both to laugh at the same time. It was so good to be back communicating on a normal level. They both enjoyed it tremendously, but wouldn't admit it.
"Just make yourself comfortable in here"
Harry took some pillows and made herself indeed comfortable with sitting against the head of the bed waiting impatiently till Dempsey would return. She was humming to herself not noticing what kind of song she had chosen till she saw Dempsey standing in the doorway.
"What?" Harry asked.
"That song" he answered with an odd expression on his face.
"Which song?"
"That song you were humming"
"What do you mean with 'that song you were humming'?" why was it such a big issue for him which song she was humming?
"Yes, why particular that one?"
"Dempsey! I really have no idea where you're talking about. I was just humming something. Does it bother you that I'm humming?"
"No, but.....you don't remember, do you?"
"Remember what?" Harry got a little irritated now. One moment everything was fine between them and the next moment they had another argument. This time about something stupid as a song!
"I found a music cassette in your bookcase with that song you are humming on it"
"So?"
"You don't remember the lyrics of it?"
"Dempsey! Can you be a little more specific? I can't even remember that I have a music cassette with that song on it and no I don't have a clue of the lyrics!"
"But I'm sure, that song must have mean something to you otherwise I'm sure you wouldn't have hidden it in your bookcase with a lot of dust on it"
This was unbelievable.
"James? I want breakfast, not a discussion about lyrics of a song!" Harry tried, but failed miserably because Dempsey didn't move.
"Okay. Give me the lyrics so I can hopefully have my breakfast then" Harry gave in, still not 100% sure of what she could expect from him to eat for breakfast.
With a soft voice Dempsey started to whisper the words of the song, he knew so well because he had played it so often he could even dream the words with closed eyes. He couldn't believe that Harry had totally blocked the lyrics of it out of her memory.
I've been waiting such a long time, I've been waking such a long time, What's another year I've been praying such a long time
looking out for you
But you're not here
What's another year?
reaching out for you
But you're not near
What's another year?
For someone who's lost everything that he owns?
What's another year
For someone who's getting used to being alone?
It's the only way to hide the fear
What's another year?
Dempsey noticed the further he came up with the lyrics the more Harry's expression on her face changed. From disbelief, than pain to finally despair and when he was halfway the lyrics she put her head in her hands and yelled: "Stop it!"
"When I played that song Harry, it was very hard for me to imagine why it obvious had had such a big impact on you. But it tells everything how you felt for such a long time, doesn't it?"
Harry only nodded her head. She couldn't say a word.
"I understand that now. But you don't have to feel like that anymore sweetheart. You didn't lose everything that you own. I'm here and I don't have any intention to leave you again. At least not before I have met my beautiful daughter. And afterwards...." he ended with a joke.
"I know" She whispered softly not been able to look at him.
"Okay then. Up to breakfast!" Dempsey declared, disappearing for a second time that morning in the direction of the kitchen.