A/N: Sorry for the long wait. It probably will be a week or two in between updates from now on. Thank you for all your lovely reviews so far. Can't believ it's hit 300!

The early morning sky is still dark as Blake balances the two pastry boxes flat and tucked underneath his arm, walking purposefully down the McCord's street. Even at this distance he can see the security at the bottom of the front step. The rain might have stopped, but the payment is wet, puddles covering the tarmac in large splotches. He side steps them, but the soles of his shoes still make a small squeak at each step.

His eyes fall to the flowers tied to railings, some of the heads have wilted so that they bow down, looking mournfully at the pavement. The ink on some of the notes have smudged because of the rain, running down the paper, obscuring some of the words. It's a morbid tableau and he's aware that there's probably similar at the State Department. He suppresses a shudder; it makes it look as though she's already dead. He forces himself to look away from it.

Blake recognises one of the detail and offers him a small smile as he approaches, untucking the pastry boxes and waggling it at them. "I thought I'd bring the kids some breakfast."

The one he knows, Kyle, gives a small shake of his head. "They aren't here," he tells him.

Blake notices the way his clasped hands tighten momentarily and how a flash of pity crinkles his dark eyes. He swallows against the lump that's instantly formed in his throat. "Where did they go?"

It's a stupid question and he knows it the minute it leave his mouth, after all, given the circumstances there's really only one place they realistically could have went. Kyle confirms it a second later, "Back to the hospital."

"When?"

Kyle's cheek flickers for a second before he replies, "I'm not sure if-"

"I'm going to stop you right there," Blake cuts in. "I am the Secretary's executive assistant, I was at the hospital with them yesterday, I've checked on her kids when she's been out of town, I've smuggled her food and helped her wrangle with truculent diplomats. Hell, I've even been through her underwear drawer." He sees Kyle raise an eyebrow and Blake pulls a face. "Not like that, and you know it." His eyes narrow. "You know full well that you can tell me when they went back there."

Another brief second and Kyle finally replies, "They left here about 3am, Secretary took a turn for the worse."

It's what he expected, but Blake still feels as though someone has slapped him at the last part. He can picture them streaming out of here in the dark, the rain pouring as the leave in a panicked rush. "Any updates?"

"Word is she's stabilised." Kyle gives a small shrug. "But I don't really know what that means at the moment. No word of them heading back here though."

"Ok." Blake nods, considering his options. The kids, and Dr McCord still need to eat. He doesn't want to sit in the office not knowing anything, so he'll go to the hospital. Decision made he looks up at Kyle. "Thanks, I'll go there then."

Securing the boxes back under his arm, Blake turns and heads back the way he came, his steps just as determined as they were before.

The first rays of dim morning light begin to seep through the gaps of the blinds in the relatives room, catching the small dust particles and making the air shimmer. Stevie props her hand behind her head and watches them from her spot on the floor, her blanket pulled up to her shoulders. She can hear Jason snoring softly and every so often Alison lets out a quiet mumble and she feels a small surge of relief that they are both finally sleeping.

She can't sleep. Her thoughts are racing, it's almost as though there's too many of them to focus on one, and when she tries, they slip away from her. So instead she doesn't try to focus, just stares above her head, watching the particles float in the air. Her chest feels odd, as if someone has tightened a band around it and her stomach feels likes a nest of butterflies have taken up residence in there. Her head is thumping, her temples feels like they're being squeezed. She needs to sleep.

Closing her eyes over, Stevie takes in a deep breath through her nose before exhaling slowly out her mouth. Her hand rests just below her ribs and she feels her diaphragm rise and fall with her breaths. She repeats this multiple times, counting as she goes, trying to stop the rush in her head.

In and out.

She can hear her breath and in the back of her head she starts to imagine the sound of the ventilator, the rush and whoosh it makes as her Mom breathes. Her eyes stay closed, but she fees her the corners of her eyelids twitch at the memory.

Rise and fall.

On the back of her eyelids, she can see her Mom in the bed, the rise and fall of her chest the only movement she wakes. She gives her head the smallest of shakes, trying to dispel the image.

It doesn't go, instead her brain just replays earlier, over and over again. She had gone in last, choosing to let Ali go in after Jason. They had both seemed relieved when they came back and she had expected to feel the same; except she hadn't. Her Dad had squeezed her shoulders, told her how her Mom looked like nothing had happened. But that meant ignoring the extra container clipped onto the bed and pretending that her Mom's hands weren't slightly colder, her skin wasn't that little bit paler than it had been just hours before. She watches the rise and fall of the blanket, thinks of the broken rib and wonders if she can feel it, if it hurts with every one of those mechanical breaths.

Her brain flickers back to the first aid class she took in her first semester at college. She can remember the click of the dummy's chest, remembers being told that meant your compressions were the right depth; she could have sworn she heard it in that hospital room. She remembers the feel of Russell's chest under her hands, the force she had to use, how his chest had bent slightly when she pressed down. She wonders how hard they had pushed to break that rib.

The room felt smaller than it had before, while every beep sounds louder. The main light is still on and it burns at her eyes, making them itch.

She can't even remember what she said to her Dad, she'd just known she had to get out of that room. She was glad her Mom was alive, but this all felt wrong. They had went from being terrified of her being left like this to relieved about it. Her eyes had darted from machine to machine, from the ugly black stitches that held plastic lines in place underneath her Mom's skin and wondered if this was to be their new normal. She just couldn't deal with it, so she'd meandered back to her siblings.

Stevie blinks her eyes open again. Was she Will?

Everyone always said how she was just like her Mom, but maybe they had got the wrong Adams, after all, she had walked away just like he had. Her Dad hadn't been angry with her, not like he had been with Will; not at all, but the thought niggled.

She can't sleep and she can't lie here anymore.

Moving slowly, she pushes the blanket from herself, the sounds of her siblings sleeping has gone from reassuring to irritating. She's annoyed that they can sleep when she can't and she's also annoyed that she's annoyed about something so petty. Pressing herself up from the floor, she winces as her wrist cracks, the pop sounding overly loud in the quiet room. Her siblings don't stir, and she lets out a sigh of relief.

Her footsteps are quiet as she walks to the door, she watches them for any signs that she's disturbing them as she pulls the door open. They don't move, their even breathing continuing. She backs out the room and lets the door fall shut with a near silent snick.

Blake's shoes squeak on the freshly cleaned linoleum as he walks down the hospital corridor, second guessing his decision to come here. He'd figured that the family needed to eat and that they wouldn't make it a priority, so he could at least ensure they had the opportunity. Which was fine until he'd crossed the threshold to the building and wondered just how bad things had gotten last night. What if he turned up at exactly the wrong moment?

He almost turns back, but something propels him forward. The Secretary would want her family looked after and it was something he could help with, so he keeps walking.

As he approaches the ITU he spots Stephanie McCord by the coffee machine. She has a khaki coloured jacket pulled over her pyjamas, the bottoms of which are tucked into some large boots, whilst her long blonde hair is ruffled, small strands of it beginning to frizz, catching the early morning light. Her hands dig through her pockets before meticulously counting out some change, scowling at it as she does so and he can hear her grumble underneath her breath. "You a bit short?" Blake asks as he draws almost level with her.

Stevie's eyes fly to him and she jumps, so lost in her own thoughts that she hasn't noticed that she is no longer alone. She shakes her head, dropping the change back into her pocket with a quiet clink. "It doesn't matter. I've probably had too much of the stuff anyway," she tells him.

"You're a government employee, you can never have too much coffee."

His comment draws a small smile. "I'm just an intern, remember."

"Ah of course. So you need double."

She gives a soft snort of laughter, before her arms wrapped protectively around her body. "I'm surprised to see you here so early," she remarks.

"Yeah. I went to the house." Blake gestures at the now slightly battered pastry boxes. "Thought you would need some breakfast, and security told me you had come back here." His teeth bit gently into the inside of his cheek as he pauses for a second, considering his words before he asks, "Is she ok?"

Stevie tucked her hair behind her ear, her head giving an almost cautionary nod. "Yeah…well…you know…same as last night. But…better." Her brow furrowed as she thought over what she had just said. "Did that make any sense?" She asked after a moment.

"She was worse, but is now back to how she was when everyone left last night, which still sucks but is at least stable?" Blake guesses.

Another small smile tugged at her lips. "Pretty much." She meanders to the collection of chairs in the corner, sitting on the back of one with a soft sigh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes briefly.

"Rough night?"

Her eyes stay closed. "You could say that." Another second and she opens them, bringing her head forward to look at him again. "My Dad called us in at 3am, I think he thought…" she tailed off, shaking her head and letting out a deep huff of breath. "I thought…"

Blake moved to the chairs, sitting down on the one next to her and patting the seat of the chair, who's back she was currently perched on. At his encouragement, Stevie swung her legs round and slid down it, into the chair. He places the boxes on the coffee table in front of them. "Want to talk about it?"

Stevie pulled her legs up to her chest, her heels resting on the cushion, whilst her toes dangled over the edge, one foot tapping agitatedly. "I don't even know what to say," she admitted.

"Anything. Sometimes it helps to talk things through." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Well, at least that's what my therapist tells me."

"Well, they would." She rested her cheek on her knee as she looked at him. "I thought she was going to die," she admits quietly after a few seconds of silence and she draws her eyes away from his, wary at meeting his gaze following her admission.

Blake leaned back in his seat. "I can see how you'd think that, having to rush back in the early hours."

Her fingers have found a strand of her hair and she twirls it almost compulsively around one finger before letting it go and then repeating the action, over and over as she talks. "My Dad sounded…I don't know, confused, scared…not like my Dad at all. Then when we got here…." She stops and sighs before starting again. "Her heart stopped again, and they got her back, got her stable. Everyone else is so happy and so relieved. And I am too, it's just…" She shakes her head. "I feel like how much more can she take? How much more can happen to her and she'll still come out the other side?"

"You're worried about her," Blake surmised.

"Of course. The others, they went in to see her and they were all so happy that she doesn't look any different and I want to scream at them. That's not her!" She runs both of her hands through her hair. "It's like we're now meant to be grateful and I just can't be. I want her to wake up and I know they want that too, but they seem to be able to be positive and I can't be."

"Or maybe they're looking for hope, something to hold onto. None of you are wrong."

"I feel like I am." She sighed again and leaning forward she nudged open one box after the other, perusing the contents. "Bagels and pastries, you're spoiling us."

Blake smiled. "I thought you all deserved a bit of spoiling." He watched as Stevie pulled out a cinnamon bear claw, tearing off a corner of it and popping it into her mouth, chewing slowly. "And for what it's worth," he told her. "I don't think you're wrong."

Stevie picked at the topping of her pastry. "I couldn't stand in the room. I left after a couple of minutes."

"Everyone needs a break sometimes."

She met his brown eyes. "My Uncle left, and I don't think he's going to come back."

A frown flickered across his features. "And you think…that you're like him?" he guessed.

"Of course. He couldn't deal with it and he ran away, exactly what I did."

"Yeah." Blake pursed his lip thoughtfully and added. "You know other than the fact that you're still sitting in the hospital and I presume that he isn't. Other than that, yeah, totally the same." Stevie scowls at him and Blake can't help but chuckle when he sees that she has the exact same frown that the Secretary get when she's annoyed at someone. "Sorry." He holds up a hand apologetically, "but you aren't like him."

"How can you be sure?"

"For one thing your Mom has never come back from lunch with you muttering under her breath. And yeah, it was too much for you to sit in the room, but you've still been here the last few hours, waiting around just in case you're needed. So, I'm sure." He looked at the dark circles under her bloodshot eyes and asked, "Have you slept at all?"

"Little bit. I got about an hour, round about midnight."

Blake pulled a face. "So no. You should go and get some sleep. At home."

"I'm afraid if I go home, something bad will happen." She glanced up at the wall clock and added, "Also I have to go and pick up Jareth at the airport in like three hours."

His lips pursed and he shook his head. "No, just no. You aren't going to the airport. Send him a text telling him where to go, he won't complain, believe me you get a pass with this one."

"Do you think?"

"Definitely." He nudges the boxes closer to her and tells her. "So take these and your brother and sister home, get some proper rest."

Stevie opened her mouth, as if to argue, when the ward doors opened and Henry wandered out, stopping in surprise when he saw them there. Stevie jumped to her feet. "Is everything ok?" she asks hurriedly.

He pulled her into a hug "Your Mom's fine. The shifts are changing, so they've asked me to wait outside while they handover."

Her shoulders relax and she lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, ok." She steps back, out from the hug.

Henry offers a tired smile to Blake. "I didn't expect to see you this morning."

Stevie answers for him. "He brought us breakfast." She moves to the boxes, rooting through them. "What do you want?"

"I'm not really hungry. But thank you, Blake."

"It's ok. I can run out and get you a coffee if you'd like?"

"That I won't turn down," Henry told him.

Stevie's arms fell to her side. "Dad, you need to eat." She held out a pastry. "They have glazed pecan danish, your favourite. Also a bagel and cream cheese."

"I'm just not hungry."

Giving a sigh, Stevie told him, "Tell you what. I'll take Ali and Jason home so they actually get some rest, but only if you eat."

Henry hesitated before he nodded. "Fine, but you have to sleep as well."

"I will, as long as you phone me if anything changes."

"I'll phone you if it's anything bad, I don't want to wake you up unless I have to," he countered.

"Fine." Stevie pressed a bagel and pastry into his hands.

Blake smothered a smile at the pair. "And I will go and get your coffee."