It was mid-afternoon and the clouds were beginning to settle over the rolling hills. Will had returned from the motel a few days ago, but he was still clearly far from well. The time he'd spent away from the village and the prying eyes of the villagers – who in their well-meaning but poorly executed attempts to be helpful and show their concern would inadvertently intrude on the family's privacy – seemed to have made no difference at all.

Jack had received the first of what was to become a series of calls from Sarah before he left the surgery to his afternoon rounds. Depression was never an easy illness to manage, and it affected each individual differently. It was going to take Will time to recover – physically just as much as emotionally. They were going to have to be very supportive of him – that went without saying – but perhaps even more importantly Will was going to have to learn to be patient with himself.

Sarah had told him over the phone that he'd managed to work himself up into quite a state – she'd lost her temper and had shouted at him again, and was having a hard time trying to calm him down. Jack had arrived within minutes of her making the call.

"It's alright Will." He'd reassured him as he entered the Preston's living room, medical bag in hand. Will was seated on the sofa, pale faced and drawing rapid wheezy breaths. His diaphragm rose and fell ineffectively, as he struggled to breathe, and he placed a hand gently on his shoulder to steady him.

"It's all my fault." Sarah sighed – and Jack detected a raw edge of panic in her own voice as she looked down at her husband, who looked back at her without seeing. "I know I shouldn't have shouted at him." She said. "But its just so hard. I was angry…"

"It's alright Sarah." He smiled. "Nobody's blaming you. He'll be alright."

He then turned his attention back to Will. "Now Will, you're going to be fine. I'm just going to give you an injection, and then we'll work on your breathing. This is going to sting, alright."

Sarah watched as Jack carefully rolled up her husband's sleeve before opening up his medical bag which he'd placed down on the floor in front of him. He quickly prepared a syringe and filled it from a vial of medication. Will didn't even flinch as he injected the contents into the upper, more fleshy, part of his arm, near to his shoulder, but the needle drew a small droplet of blood when he withdrew it, and Jack dabbed at the area with cotton wool. The puncture site started to bruise almost immediately – a small blue and purple welt swelling around the tiny hole. Old Doctor Roland had also taken bloods when he'd visited Will at the motel, and the results had come back showing that he was anaemic. Jack helped Will to sit up properly – propping him up with cushions and making sure he was comfortable – before taking his stethoscope out of his pocket and having a listen to his chest. He then slowly stood up and quietly pulled Sarah aside.

"You don't happen to have some kind of timer device do you?" He asked her. Sarah frowned.

"Sometimes panic attack sufferers can feel detached from their surroundings." He explained. "It can be very frightening, and some can even feel as though they're going to die. I think Will is probably feeling very frightened and very vulnerable right now. We need to try and get his breathing under control but I can't do that unless I can get him to listen to me. Having something physical to focus on might help him to focus, and counting will help with his breathing."

"There's an egg timer in kitchen." She told him.

"That's perfect." Jack nodded.

"I'll just go and get it for you." She forced a smile. Jack made his way back over to Will's side and sat down next to him again on the sofa, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Sarah lingered by the door momentarily, looking at her husband. She knew that he was very ill, and she could see in that moment just how much he was hurting, but she just couldn't bring herself to comfort him.

"Right then Will." She heard Jack say matter of factly – keeping his tone even and soothing. Whilst still pale the injection Jack had given him had started to take effect and he appeared slightly more relaxed. "Lets take some deep breaths shall we, in through the nose and out through the mouth."

He demonstrated the technique – one which Will had used with his own patients dozens of time – encouraging his friend to follow his example, and although still a little fast and shallow Will's breathing slowly started to improve. He looked at Jack through tired eyes and Jack smiled back at him.

"Here, I found it." Sarah chimed as she entered, brandishing the small egg timer and handing the object to Jack. She looked down at Will and smiled at her husband, but the gesture was another forced one – empty and lacking genuine feeling. Jack looked from Will to Sarah and back again, his brow furrowing with concern as he watched his friend avert his wife's eyes and look down at the floor dejectedly.

"I'll put the kettle on shall I?" She asked, and he detected the slight hiss on venom in her tone – like a snake – and she turned to leave the room. Jack's eyes followed her as she left, lingering for a few seconds on the empty spot she had vacated – the cogs turning in his brain. When he eventually turned back to look at Will it was to see that his fixed stare – eyes no loner empty and gaze far away but instead sad and sunken with pain – lingered on the closed door of the living room.

"She can't even bare to be in the same room as me these days." He whispered, and Jack sighed.

He could understand how difficult this was for Sarah and the children to deal with. He'd been through it all himself after all and knew better than most how depression had an affect on the family as well as on the sufferer, but Sarah's treatment of Will went beyond mere frustration. It was tantamount to bullying.

He sighed. "She just needs time Will." He assured him. "It's probably very difficult for her to see you like this, but remember none of this is your fault."

"I'm trying." Will nodded meekly. "But it's not always easy when I fail to see what it is I have to feel so sad about."

"Depression doesn't work like that though Will, you know that." Jack said, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. "You've been under a lot of stress lately, and me and Beth haven't exactly helped. We failed to spot the fact that you needed our help before it was too late. We didn't see the warning signs. Beth's heartbroken. She feels as though she's let you down. We both have." He sighed. "I'll have a word with Sarah for you. See if I can get her to talk to me."

He handed Will the small egg timer. Will looked at it, turning it over in his hands and moving it around his fingers in a deeply distracted manner.

"Now then," Jack smiled, turning the tiny device the right way up so that the sand flowed freely from one compartment to the other. "Just take some slow, deep breaths for me please Will, until the timer runs out, and then I'll give you a quick once over, just to make sure you're alright."

He learned into his medical bag and took out a blood pressure cuff.

"Thank you Jack." Will looked at him, doing his best to return the gesture, and Jack could tell that at least his friend's attempts were genuine, even if his smile was weak.

"Don't mention it." He sighed, patting Will gently on the back.