So I need to apologise for the delay in getting this chapter up. I haven't had the best week, and not been in the mood for writing. Anyway, hope this is worth the delay. Enjoy.
It was six in the evening when Graham started to stir. Harry had dealt with Juliet and come straight back to the hospital. He'd been gone for about an hour and ten minutes, no more, but he hadn't liked being away from his son. Even he could appreciate the irony that this was a son he hadn't seen in years, and now he didn't want to leave him. Catherine had gone to get something to eat, under Harry's insistence, which meant that when Graham opened his eyes, it was his father who he saw first. He grabbed for the mask and took it off.
"What are you doing here?" Graham asked hoarsely. With his face unobscured by the mask, Harry could see the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and how chalky white his face was. He did look like a drug addict, he hated to even think it to himself.
"You overdosed," he said quietly. "Of course I would be here."
"You're only here because of Catherine," Graham said.
"She called me," he admitted. "But had I known you were in hospital, nothing would have kept me away anyway."
"I don't have the energy to argue with you," Graham said. "I'm alive. Duty done. You can go now."
Harry sighed heavily. "I want to help you. I want to make things better." Graham said nothing, just closed his eyes, as if wishing Harry would disappear. At that moment Catherine came in.
"Oh thank God. You're awake!" she said, rushing over and grasping his hand. "How are you?"
"Fine," he said. "Or as fine as I'm likely to be."
"Graham, this has to stop," she said firmly. "I don't want to be going to your funeral. You have to stop." Graham glanced at his father for a moment before answering.
"I know," he said. "I know. I just… can't. It's called an addiction for a reason, Cat." She had nothing to say to that and Harry felt as if he were intruding. As if he were one person too many.
"I'm pleased you're awake," Harry said quietly, wanting to make his exit. His usual go to when things just felt too awkward. "I'll come back and see you in the morning?" he hadn't meant it to be a question, it just came out that way. Graham locked eyes with his father for a moment. He gave half a shrug and said, "if you like." From their recent history, Harry took that as a very good response indeed. He left before he could push it too far.
Ruth had let herself in to Harry's house and was making tea when he came in. He looked wild eyed and very upset.
"Shall I forget the tea and get the whisky?" she asked, seeing his face. "Do you want to talk?"
"I don't want whisky," he said. "I don't want to talk and I don't want tea." Ruth stood there bewildered. "I want you. I want to forget for a few minutes about this awful day. And I really want you, Ruth."
"Are you sure that's the best idea?" she asked, though her eyes dipped briefly to his shirt which was undone at his throat.
"Right now, yes, I am sure," he said. "If you want," he added. She closed the gap between them and put her hand to his face, looking into his eyes.
"Harry, are you okay?" she asked very gently. He nodded because he didn't want to speak, for fear that he might very well fall apart in the face of her sympathy. "Upstairs?" she said. He nodded.
Not even ten minutes later, she found herself naked, exhausted, covered in sweat as she lay on the bed trying to recover her breathing. Harry had been urgent, ardent and rough and her body was still quivering.
Harry turned towards her and held her close. "I'm so sorry," he murmured.
"Don't," she said quietly. "It's okay." She stroked his back gently as he started to cry, quietly and without a fuss. She held him, knowing it was the emotion of the day and not blaming him in the slightest for having reached breaking point. "He'll be fine," she said. "Graham will be fine." Eventually he quietened and kissed her very softly.
"I think you should get some sleep," she said. "Do you need a sleeping pill?" He shook his head.
"Thank you, Ruth." She smiled and kept looking at him until he fell asleep, which took a surprisingly short time. Exhaustion, she thought. She disentangled herself and had a quick shower to clean herself up. She had wanted more than anything to be there for Harry, and she was very glad he'd let her. Though if she knew anything about him, she guessed he'd feel guilty in the morning, using her for sex and a distraction. Not that she hadn't enjoyed it, she had. Harry had been much less careful than normal and she'd enjoyed him losing complete control. But he would feel guilty, because he was usually an extremely attentive lover. She turned the shower off and wrapped her body in a towel before returning to bed. Harry was still sleeping, much to her relief and she got in the bed carefully so as not to wake him. Then she slept.
When she awoke, she was alone. She quickly dressed and hurried downstairs where she found Harry cooking breakfast. Actually cooking, the bacon and eggs in the frying pan. He'd never done this since she started sleeping with him and the sight froze her for a moment in its surprise. He had a rigid stance too, as if bracing himself for something unpleasant. He was dressed and his shirt was taught across his back from the tension in his body.
"Morning," she said. "Have you called the hospital?"
"Yes," he said. "Still stable and conscious. They think he's through the worst of it."
"You know he's not," she said softly. "The addiction won't just…"
"I know," he said, cutting her off.
"What's wrong?" she asked, not liking the way he was speaking to her.
"I feel… so ashamed," he said. "The way I treated you last night. I… I don't know what came over me and I'm so, so sorry."
"Would you look at me please?" she asked as she was still facing his back. He turned around and she saw that she'd been right in her assumptions last night. He did look guilty.
"Please don't apologise," she said. "And don't look at me like that. I can't bear it."
"Ruth, last night…"
"You were not doing anything I didn't want," she said firmly. "And I don't like you implying that, either," she said.
"I was being so selfish," he said. "I can't…" He shook his head.
"So the bacon and eggs is… an apology?" she asked as he turned to plate up their breakfasts.
"Something like that," he said. They sat down and ate quickly. They didn't speak again until their plates were empty. "How's your arm?"
"Fine," she said shortly. He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well, it hurts like hell, but I'll survive."
"No one's expecting you at work today, Harry," she said.
"Have you told them what's happened?"
"No," she said quietly. "It's not my place to tell anyone. I've just mentioned to Adam that you had a personal emergency. He wasn't stupid enough to ask me for more information."
"Okay," Harry said. He cleared their plates and bowed his head at the sink.
"Go to the hospital," she said calmly. I'll see you later. Or tomorrow."
"Later," he said. "Please… please be here tonight. I… need you."
"Okay," she said. "If you want me to." She knew it was hard for him to admit to needing anyone, in any capacity. "Go." He nodded and kissed her cheek very softly before leaving for his son.
Ruth arrived on the grid and shuffled out of her coat with a little difficulty because of her arm. Her computer was still warming up when Adam came over to her. He glanced at Harry's office.
"No Harry today?"
"No," she said. "I doubt he'll be in at all."
"What's…?"
"I can't really say," she said. "I just… can't. It's personal."
"Ruth…" he said, eyes urgent. "We need to know."
"It's nothing to do with the grid," she said. "Someone in his family is ill," she added when Adam showed no signs of letting it go. "Unless something urgent comes up, it's just paperwork today. Leave him alone."
"Oh," Adam said. "Is he okay?"
"No," she said honestly. "No, Adam, he's not."