Officer Tom Hanson parked his car at the side lot of the hospital and hesitated briefly for the millionth time since he'd left his apartment that morning. Diane Nelson had been completely emotional the last time he had seen her. Less than two days ago, they had parted in the grocery story after he had revealed to her he was a cop. She hadn't been receptive to his offers of help then; she'd been more afraid she was going to get into trouble for asking… no pleading… with him to kill her father.

Her father. Captain Clarence Nelson. Head of the administrative section of the entire police force; an all around very influential guy. So influential that he'd been able to quash his eldest daughter's reports of sexual abuse on his behalf. She'd only tried two or three times to reach out to the police for help before she'd given up on the department and cops in general. They had all failed her, and were all worthy only of her distrust. Part of Tom understood her reaction when he'd pleaded with her to let him help her. But still, he wished the circumstances after that supermarket meeting had been different.

Unable to find any other way to ensure her safety, his boss, Captain Fuller, had told him to arrest her on the murder solicitation charge. He'd been able to get her little sister out of the house without Diane putting up too much of a fuss, but when he tried to get Diane out, she'd fought him, and pleaded with her father to protect her. The man had become irate and irrational and moved to physically attack Tom in order to prevent him from arresting his daughter. The entire situation had gone sour very quickly after that, and had resulted in the man being shot, not critically, but badly enough to set him in the hospital and leave him unable to answer any questions for a few days. This situation seemed to worry the police investigators more than it did the medical staff however.

Diane had dissolved into hysterics at that point and ended up being taken to the hospital as well. Hanson. Well, Hanson had spent the rest of that afternoon and the better part of the evening in a room downtown with Fuller and IAB. They'd taken his badge and his gun and put him on a length undetermined administrative leave of absence. In short, they'd suspended him.

Now, just over 24 hours since the shooting, Tom stood, a free, ordinary citizen preparing to visit Diane Nelson in the hospital. He couldn't really explain it to anyone else, but he felt like he had to be there.

Riding up the elevator, Tom composed his thoughts once again, sorting out his reasons for coming to visit Diane. It wasn't just to relieve his conscience, he decided. He truly did care about how she was doing. He just hoped she wouldn't throw him out on sight, or worse, she'd go back into hysterics or something and he'd end up being thrown out by a nurse.

Knocking gently on the door to Diane's room, Tom slowly entered, not really sure what to expect. Would she be sleeping? Would she throw him out on sight? Would she be… trying to maintain her balance while searching her room!?!… wait a minute.

"Diane," Tom spoke softly, so as not to startle her, as he moved quickly into the room. Whatever they had her on, it definitely didn't look like she was steady enough on her feet to be wandering about the room and he definitely didn't want to startle her and have her end up falling or hurting herself somehow.

"Diane," he tried again when she showed no signs of recognizing he was in the room. Her back was still to him as she moved unsteadily towards her closet. "What are you doing?"

"I want to find my clothes," she muttered, slurring the words ever so slightly. If he hadn't heard her speak in the past, he may not have noticed the difference, "I'm going to go home."

Sighing internally, Tom reached out and placed his hand on top of hers as she fumbled with the closet door trying to get it open. "I don't think that's such a good idea right now, Diane." He replied, moving closer to support her if necessary as he saw her list to the side a bit.

"You can't make me stay here!" Diane threw her whole body into the statement, even though her voice barely cracked above a normal speaking level. She tried to hit the door in frustration as she did, causing her to stumble.

Tom moved in quickly, wrapping his arms around hers from behind, supporting her, ignoring the brief moment where she stiffened at the contact.

"Let me go," Diane insisted weakly, even as her legs began to wobble beneath her.

"I can't" Tom said, gently but firmly. "I'm just trying to look out for you, Diane." He finished, his soft tone almost apologetic. Ignoring the little voice in his head that was telling him he shouldn't have come here, he continued. "Let's just calm down and talk about his okay?" As he spoke, the sound of the patient in the room next door showering cut into his subconscious.

"First, let's get you back into bed," he spoke softly as he steered her gently back across the room. "You're not doing too well on your feet right now."

Resignedly, Diane cooperated as Tom helped her back into bed. "There you go, that's better, ain't it?" he said as he brought the blankets back up over her body, pulling up the side rails on her bed as an afterthought.

Diane closed her eyes briefly as he was securing the rails, but they flew open again as she realized who he was. "What are you doing here?" she asked. Nervousness crept into her voice, her eyes more alert than when he'd first come into her room.