As Jack entered Frank's house he frowned at what he saw. All the furniture that had been there, that had made the little modest house a home, had gone. Guilt resumed its place in the pit of his stomach once more as he entered what used to be Frank's little parlour and saw him perched on a little chair, balancing a heavy medical book on a little stool, frantically looking through it. He was so absorbed in his task that he didn't notice Jack standing there until he spoke,

'I have been to the Misses Tompkinson about the Valentine. I said I was sorry, and they forgave me with good grace.' It had taken him a while to convince the ladies that he did feel remorse for what he had done. Thankfully the ladies understood and eventually forgave him, though they had given him rather a hard time at first and rightly so. He had always had a pranksters' nature; he and Frank had played countless pranks on each other at Guy's, including Frank leading a dog into Jack's bed. But he had also always known where to draw the line, but obviously not in this case, for now he had destroyed the reputation of his best friend. Frank looked up at him with worried eyes, and after Jack had finished speaking he immediately asked the question that must have been at the forefront of his mind.

'Did you go to the rectory?'

'Yes, and I left a letter of confession addressed to the Reverend Hutton.'

'Was Dr. Morgan there?' there was such worry in his voice, it broke Jack's heart to hear it.

'I believe he was.' Was Jack's reply; Frank then expressed his fears on Dr. Morgan's methods of treatment, saying out right that she would die if the fever is nurtured as the older doctor had ordered it should be. She would die of desiccation and exhaustion. Jack tried to keep a level head as he asked what methods Frank would use to treat Sophie. His methods were sound and could very possibly save her life, but he had to bring Frank back to reality. 'They won't let you near her.' Frank lifted his head and they locked gazes. Jack could see such distress in his friend's eyes, saw how helpless he felt, though what Frank said next was what weighed on Jack's heart the most,

'I am near her, Jack. I'm in that room…' Jack went closer to him and held on to his shoulder and squeezed it. He wished he could ease his burden; instead he had added to it. He could not stop admonishing himself the more he saw of his friend. But that would not help Frank. What would help him was action, so he removed his coat with the intention to stay and figure out some way to get Frank through the door at the rectory.

Moments later the two men heard commotion and noise from outside, and then loud banging at Frank's door. He was up in an instant and at the door, Jack close on his heels. At the door was Captain Brown, clutching a bloody handkerchief, which had obviously been pressed on the older man's eye for Jack saw that it was bleeding. Frank had gone to assist Mr. Carter, who had sustained a bad leg injury. Captain Brown explained what had occurred,

'There's been an explosion at the railway works, two men are dead. I've brought you Mr. Carter…' that was all that came out of his mouth, for he then collapsed in Jack's arms, and he had to essentially lift the large man into the house, with Frank and Mr. Carter not far behind. Jack sat the Captain down and gave him a tonic to drink before removing the fragment of glass that had gotten wedged into his eyelid, and stitched up the corner of it. He took pride in specializing in eyes, especially now that it was so needed.

When he had dealt with his patient he went back to Frank and asked about Mr. Carter's leg. Jack could see the glisten of sweat on his forehead and his eyes darting around the surgery. His voice however was clear; the leg had to come off above the knee. Jack knew that Frank was a good doctor and that he had a very focused mind, but he feared that with everything that had happened Frank wasn't his best self...

When Frank told him that he had sent for Mary Smith, Jack had been surprised. She was so delicate. He hadn't thought that a surgery would be any place for her. He then remembered that Frank had told him how vital Miss Smith's assistance was in saving the arm of the local carpenter, Jem Hearn. She had great common sense and had such strength of character, he was certain she would be a superb nurse. After she arrived they started the preparations for the operation. He handed her an apron, and for a millisecond their hands touched, Jack felt so much in so small a touch. The ice from Hanbury Hall was dumped in the sink, and the brandy and linen that Lady Ludlow had brought was put on the counter near the sink. It was finally time; he had sent Lady Ludlow and Miss Galindo into the other room to await Mr. Carter's fate. Jack stood near Mary, knowing that this would be very trying for her, for the amputation of a limb was certainly not pleasant procedure, for the patient or the doctor. When Frank signalled for Mary to place the mouthpiece into Mr. Carter's mouth, Jack went closer to his head and clutched his shoulders, whilst Mary clutched his head and chin. The man's cries of pain were almost too much to bear as the saw cut through his skin and bone, but Jack could see that, though she was certainly not indifferent to the amount of pain the poor man was suffering, Mary bore it with strength and determination; every bit the nurse. Then Mr. Carter's screams died down and Jack moved to help Frank remove the buckles that confined the patient, only until they heard Mary's voice, breaking as she spoke the words,

'His breath has stopped!' Both doctors looked up at her frantically. Jack then reached for a stethoscope and pressed it against the man's chest. He listened. Nothing, not one beat, though he changed the position of the device three times. He looked up at Frank,

'It is his heart, it has given out.' Jack saw the despair in Frank's face, and heard the pain in his voice when he spoke,

'His heart?' it was barely above a whisper but Jack heard it, and was sure that so had Mary. The three stood over the patient for a moment not knowing what on earth to do, perhaps willing that this hadn't happened, that their patient had not died. But it was of no use. Mr. Carter was gone, and they needed to tell the ladies in the other room what had occurred. Mary felt that it would be better for a woman to break the news to them. Jack agreed with her and, before letting her go, took her hand and squeezed it gently. She looked up at him. They both knew that an experience like this had created a bond between all of them that was not to be broken, and Jack hoped from the bottom of his heart that this bond would be stronger than the pain his ridiculous prank had caused. He watched as she turned the corners of her mouth up, then taking off her apron she left the room. He then turned his attention to his friend, who had gone completely ashen. Jack reassured Frank that there was nothing else he could have done, trying at least to ease the pain that the failed operation had inflicted upon all of them. He knew, of course, that Frank's pain was due to something else as well.