“Well, well. Mrs Davis.”

“Don’t call me that,” she told him, quietly. She allowed herself to glare at him for a few seconds, during which he firstly glared back, but then looked away, unable to meet her gaze, to see the expression in her eyes. Then she spoke. “Fine, if we’re not on a first name basis. Mr Griffin. How’s my… Jack, how is he?”

“Stable. Critical, but stable.” He bit his lip after he had spoken, aware that he sounded too annoyed, aware that right now, his feelings – even her feelings – had no bearing on the situation. The important issue right now was Jack.

“Any other clichés you want to give me?” She looked annoyed as well now, standing up to face Ric as an equal, rather than just another distressed relative. Her stance gave off an aura of defiance; I was your equal once, she was telling him. Once, you thought of me as equal, you respected me enough to tell me the truth. What has changed? “Give it to me properly. How is Jack?”

As briefly as he could, he told her about the bruising Jack had suffered, the internal bleeding, and any other issues that he felt she could deal with. The fact that he had arrested twice in theatre wasn’t mentioned. It may have been years since Ric had seen Diane last, but his protection of her was second nature, a habit he could never quite break.

She nodded, sinking down onto her seat again as he finished speaking, and allowing Jess to put one arm around her. She just sat where she was for a few moments, thinking; thoughts flitting around her brain like flies, unable to be swatted away. Jack… Jo… Joanna, her precious baby sister, the girl she had loved so much, but failed so many times. She had failed her when she had needed her the most, and now she was failing her son.

“You can see him if you want,” Ric’s quiet voice broke into her reverie. “He’s in ITU.”

ITU… the same ITU where Joanna had lain, hours before her death. The same ITU where Diane had promised to take care of her sister, to take care of her sister’s child. Fate may be a joker, but its comedy is black. She merely nodded; numb to anything else that might be thrown at her. “I want to see him.” She stood up slowly, feeling as though her legs would go from under her at any moment.

“Hey, steady,” he warned her, noticing the dazed expression on her face.

She turned to glare at him. “I’m fine.” I’m always fine, she added to herself. I’m fine when my friends die, I’m fine when my sister dies, I’m fine when I’m left alone with a newborn baby, I’m fine when my husband cheats on me… fine, fine, fine. Always fine.

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” There was a look, just a moment, of understanding, of recognition, before it passed. She looked down and he looked down, and the floor got all the benefit of their respective glares.

Jess stood up. “I need to get back to work.” She touched Diane’s arm gently. “You take care, Diane. I’m always here if you need me, remember that.”

Diane nodded, a faint smile edging her lips. “And the same goes for you.” She looked up at Jess. “And I’m so happy for you and Lisa. She told me, and I’m so happy for you. I mean that.”

“You and Lisa?” Ric’s tone had changed dramatically, as he turned to stare at his daughter. “What’s this? Lisa Fox?”

Jess’ reassuring smile remained frozen in place as she backed towards the door. “Now is not the time, Dad.” She fumbled for the handle behind her, and managed to open the door, leaving the room hurriedly.

Diane just shook her head, unable to deal with the fact that she had just let out what had obviously been a secret. “Maybe Jess’d prefer it if you forgot that you ever heard that,” she said, quietly.

“Maybe I’d prefer that too!” he shot back, sharper than he had intended. “My little girl…”

“She’s twenty six.” There was no emotion in her voice, it was just a statement. “I’m sorry I let that out, but could I see my nephew? Please? He means the world to me, and I want to know that he’s alright… please, Ric.” She knew that she was begging, but she knew that Ric, the Ric she knew, would never refuse her a thing.

He nodded, trying to focus on Diane. On Jack. Not Diane, Jack. He silently led her through to ITU, and watched the tense expression lift as she looked down at her unconscious nephew, her little boy. “Jack…” she murmured, touching his hand gently.

He leant against the wall, watching her. Wanting to be there if she needed to break down, but not having the right any more. He gave up the right to be there for her on the day that he told her to be with Owen. The day that Jack was born.

Diane tore her gaze away from Jack, the tiny, helpless, painful to watch figure in the bed, to look out of the window. She saw Connie, holding onto the hand of a little girl, sufficiently like her to see that the girl was Connie’s daughter. She looked up at Ric. “Does Connie have a child?” she asked, idly.

Before he could answer, the door opened, and the little girl came running in. Seeing her more closely, Diane realised that she looked very familiar. Those eyes… the face… no, surely not?

“Daddy!” the girl squealed, running over to Ric.