It may seem like I'm dropping the Graham story line here, but I'm planning of entwining it in later chapters, after going back to canon for a bit. Thanks for the continued support for this story.

When Harry appeared at the hospital, Graham was sat up eating breakfast. "Hi," he said quietly.

"Hello," Graham said, pushing the breakfast tray aside.

"How are you?" Harry asked sitting next to his son.

"I feel like a bit of an idiot," he said. "Taking too much heroin and ending up in here."

Harry felt pleased that Graham seemed to be in a receptive mood this morning. "I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but… you have to stop. You'll kill yourself one day."

"I know," he said, closing his eyes. "But I can't. I… can't."

He'd been debating what to say to his son since he left hospital the night before. "You need rehab."

"You think I don't know that?!" Graham shouted. "Of course I know that! I don't want to be like this. I live in a shitty little flat, I'm sunk in debt, you really think I can afford those places?" He sighed, then shook his head. "Don't lecture me, dad."

"It wasn't a lecture," he said calmly. "And you shouldn't worry about the money either, I'll take care of it." His son glared at him. "I'm really worried about you."

"First time for everything," Graham said.

"I thought it might be better… easier maybe, for both of us… were I to leave you alone."

"I need to get out of here," he said. "Get me out of here."

"Where are you going to go?" Harry asked. "If you're released?"

"Don't. Just… do me a favour and get me discharged."

"Fine."

Ruth hadn't heard from Harry all day, beyond a text message saying h was safe and at home. She went to his house, feeling a little trepidation about seeing him, with how they left things that morning. She had seemed to worry more the longer the day had dragged on and was relieved when she received no urgent updates at work that needed dealing with.

"Hi," she said as she walked into the kitchen. "How are you?"

"Okay," he said, a small smile on his face. She could see it was genuinely true, and he was in a much better place than twenty four hours ago. She walked towards him and kissed his cheek gently. His arms went around her, palms resting on the small of her back for a moment.

"How was today?" she asked.

"I think… that things went okay," he said slowly. He passed her a glass of wine and let go of her body. "Graham's not exactly talkative right now. And Jane arrived this afternoon."

"Oh?"

"She'd come straight from the airport" Harry said. "First time I've spoken to her civilly in years. Probably because our focus is Graham."

"And?"

"He's in rehab right now. How long he stays there is anyone's guess."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes," Harry said. Ruth waited, knowing there was more coming. "Yes it is, but I doubt he'll see it through."

"You need to have faith in him," Ruth said gently.

"I know," Harry said with a sigh. "Listen, Jane might turn up here unannounced. I haven't invited her but she tends to appear without warning. Just so you're prepared in case she does."

"Okay," Ruth said quietly. Then she voiced something she'd been thinking about all day. "You know… I'd like to meet your children. Once this disaster is handled and things are calmer. Under better circumstances."

"If you want to," Harry said. She felt pleased and relieved that he wasn't immediately shutting her or the suggestion out. "I think… you're a permanent part of my life. If you want to be. I don't want this to end, so if you wanted to meet my children…"

"I do," she said, smiling slightly. "Thank you."

"I'm going to apologise again for last night…"

"Harry, don't," she said firmly but quietly. "I did not once say no or stop. So please stop apologising. It's getting boring," she added, her lips twitching upwards in a slight smile. She kissed him on the mouth, the first time she had all day. He responded to her, cradling her face as he kissed her deeply. She couldn't resist from pressing her body against his as he held her tightly. When they parted, they were both breathing heavily and pressed up against each other.

"Are you hungry?" he asked slightly breathlessly.

"No," she said. "I ate at work. I just… want a bath and then want to go to bed."

"Okay." He stroked her hair gently. He didn't feel quite brave enough to suggest his company for her bath, after the last forty eight hours, so he let her go, listening as she walked upstairs.

They were wrapped up together in bed, kissing and touching each other when Harry paused, his thumb stroking her abdomen lightly. They had an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't have sex tonight, so Harry broached a subject that he'd wanted to talk about for a while.

"I'd like you to be honest with me," Harry said.

"What?" she asked, bewildered.

"I know that's not an appendectomy scar," he said. She froze in his arms.

"Harry…"

"It's on the wrong side to be your appendix. You can tell me the truth," he said calmly.

"I don't talk about it," she said calmly. "Let go of me." He dropped his hands and she put a significant distance (considering they were in bed) between them.

"Ruth…"

"Goodnight," she said coldly.

"You can talk to me," he said, not giving up. "I have an idea about what may have happened. You can trust me."

"I don't talk about it. Ever," she said. She rolled over, away from him and looked as if she was clutching the duvet to her body. "Goodnight Harry." The arctic breeze coming from her side of the bed was stronger than he'd ever experienced before. He sighed, and didn't mention it again, though he struggled to fall asleep for quite some time.

When Ruth awoke the next day, Harry was already up and dressed, clearly intending to go to work from the suit and tie. She didn't speak because he was on the phone and waited for the conversation to end.

"Checking up on him," Harry explained a few minutes later.

"Graham?"

"Mm, still in rehab." He sighed heavily. "I just needed to make sure. He didn't seem that... talkative."

She nodded. "Last night. I'm sorry about reacting that way."

"Ruth, its okay," he said, taking her hands in his.

"No it's not," she said. "I can't talk about it. I can't. It's not that I don't trust you, it's…"

"I shouldn't have asked," he said. "It's clearly… a painful memory.

"I will…talk about it one day. But don't ask me now."

"Okay," he said. "I love you."

"I know," she said. "I love you too."