Ralph awoke with a start; the hand his chin had been resting on had slipped to the floor. Glancing around the room, Ralph realised that cheery sunlight now drifted through his front window, resting on his position in the arm chair and making him warm despite his missing blanket.

For a moment he wondered why he wasn't in bed, and then he realized he must have fallen asleep during Lucy's program and she hadn't bothered to wake him.

Stretching, Ralph's hand brushed his coffee table and the smooth trinket sitting on it. Surprised, Ralph suddenly remembered the red haired man, and with a smile, Ralph decided to take a closer look at whatever the red haired man had given him.

Picking up the delicate object, Ralph brought it closer to his face. He gasped when he saw what it was. The object was a soft pink- perfectly smooth, and delicately carved into a conch shell.

Memories suddenly assaulted him, and it took several unsteady gasps of air before he was able to bring himself back into his comfortable living room. Suspicion began to creep into his stomach, but a single knock on his door made Ralph place the shell on his table and answer it nervously.

"Paper, sir, and I'll need to collect me pay."

It was Ralph's paper boy, and Ralph quickly handed over a few coins before grabbing the paper and shutting the door behind himself. Again, he ran a hand through his hair before flopping onto his couch and briefly checking the front page.

The larger article was about some political argument, and Ralph disregarded it within a moment. He was about to toss the whole thing aside when the editorial on the front made him pause.

24 year old veteran from island escapade almost meets his demise

Skimming the article, Ralph realized that it introduced Ralph's own island experience. In fact, his own name was included as a 'leader of the boys'. Ralph snorted. Leader indeed; and 'island escapade' was honestly the worst thing he'd ever heard the experience called.

It was when the article got down to business that Ralph began to frown. It introduced Jack Merridew as another boy on the island who, when back in civilization, had been a frequenter of the county jail due to petty crimes, namely drunk driving, until he'd been examined by a doctor and sent to serious therapy for the next six years.

'Yesterday, Merridew went missing from his psychiatric nursing home along with his medicine and, despite searches, he was not found until approximately 9:30 at night by which point he had overdosed on his prescription medicine. He was found in a park by a 12 year old boy who wishes to be unnamed. Now Merridew has been admitted to the county hospital, but doctors say his condition is unstable.'

Without reading any more, Ralph placed the newspaper aside, wrapped his arms around his knees, brought them to his chest, covered his face, and wept.

"Sir? Do you need help?"

"Yes, thank you, I'm looking for a... A..."

"Yes sir?"

"A Jack Merridew."

"Oh, are you family?"

"No."

"I'm afraid I can't let you see him then."

"Why?"

"Sir, his condition is very unstable, only family may see him."

"I... I need to see him."

"Sir, only family may see him. I'm sorry. If you continue to make a disruption I will need to ask you to leave."

Ralph gulped thickly, sighing before handing over a piece of folded paper.

"It's from my physiologist. It says I can see him."

The woman at the desk of the hospital read the paper quickly, then nodded.

"Alright. Bill will accompany you."

A strong orderly was called over, and he lead Ralph through the maze of hospital until they reached a white, streamlined door. Ralph glanced frequently at this 'Bill', and finally he couldn't help but ask.

"You wouldn't be the Bill who was on the island, would you?"

A deep sigh almost seemed the shake the walls, and Bill turned to look at Ralph.

"Working in a hospital, even if I'm not a doctor, seemed like a way to do some good in the world. They're idiots for assuming I'd want to be Jack's orderly. We're both from the same place, so clearly it'd help him to see a familiar face, right? It's not like it'll bring back bad memories or anything, for what bad memories could there be? It's good to see you though, Ralph. It begs a question, though. You don't have to answer, but what are you doing here?"

Ralph stared up at the big man who looked somehow larger than life, yet not unrecognisably different. Ralph hadn't seen any of the boys from the island since he'd been adopted from the orphanage some eight years ago. In eight years, Bill had grown a lot.

"I'm not sure, really, but I guess I'm repaying a favor. I didn't know it, but he came to visit me last night. I mean, someone came to visit me, I didn't realize until this morning that it was him. He looks like a different person- thirty years older than he is, and so thin... He came to tell me goodbye. He gave me this."

Ralph gulped down his emotion and fished the conch shell out of his pocket, holding it out to Bill. Bill nodded, telling him to put it away, before hurrying down the hall.

"I haven't really looked at him. I didn't really pay attention to how he's changed, appearance wise. This is his room. I'll need to go in with you."

Ralph nodded, following Bill into the sterilized, white expanse where the gaunt red haired man lay, fastened to what seemed like dozens of machines.

"You weren't kidding. He... He's a different person," Bill said from behind Ralph, who was struggling not to run from the room in a primal dash for escape. It was a mistake coming here, Jack had been right. It was a mistake.

"I... I think I need... I can't stay here," Ralph turned to Bill, his eyes wide and flickering about the room wildly, and Bill caught Ralph before he could sink to the ground.

"Whoa, you'll be alright. Calm down, just breath."

Ralph shook his head , struggling away from Bill, his hand reaching for the door, yet the knob slipped from his fingers as he fell to the floor with a shuddering sob.

A wet cough from the bed caught Bill's attention, and he realized that the noise had awoken the red headed, previously comatose figure.

"No," the figure moaned, "I'd only wanted to, I hadn't thought that... It was a mistake!"

Bill approached the bed side, casting a look at Ralph who was watching the scene with wide eyes, but no more sobs. It seemed that Ralph was stable.

Bill knew he should call for the doctor or a nurse, but instead he looked down at Jack, who shook his head weakly.

"No, Bill, you're not dead. You're not dead!"

"No, I'm not, and neither are you. Now calm down," Bill spoke softly, taking in Jack's appearance with shock. Slowly, realization dawned on Jack, and he closed his eyes tightly. Glancing over at Ralph, who was now rising from the ground and shuffling slowly toward the bed, Bill continued. "You have someone here to see you, Jack."

Jack's eyes snapped open, turning to stare at Ralph with an unblinking gaze, and immediately Ralph balked.

"Why are you here?"

It was a simple question, but Ralph continued to stand still, his teeth grinding nervously.

"It, it was a mistake," Ralph murmured, and Jack nodded once.

"I see," Jack coughed softly, "Well I said sorry, I gave you what I'd been saving, what else do you want? Nothing's a mistake."

Ralph flinched lightly, but rather than fleeing from the room, he took a step closer.

"I don't want anything, I just thought... Maybe... Why did you do it?"

Jack said nothing, and so Ralph continued.

"I mean, you're not better off if you... I mean, weren't they helping you?"

Jack's continued silence made Ralph squirm, and he took a step closer.

"I got help, and it changed me. It continues to change me! Weren't they helpful for you? I mean, I could see myself five years ago, sleepless and considering unthinkable things, I just didn't want to think I'd take it so far, but what if I had? But I didn't! Why would you do that? Why did you do that when you were getting help? It's supposed to help!"

"Ralph," Bill's steady voice made Ralph close his eyes, sniffling and swallowing against his suddenly raw throat.

"You don't understand," Jack finally spoke, his voice so soft Ralph almost missed it.

"But I do understand."

"No you don't. You had nothing to forgive yourself for. You had nothing to change, nothing to hide."

"But I-"

"You have nothing to forgive yourself for, and don't you dare forget it!"

In that moment, an inkling of what Ralph remembered of the pompous boy showed through the pale skeleton of a man, yet within moments, that boy was gone, replaced by a lifetime's worth of sorrow.

"You don't need to be here, you can go. I told you, you did well for yourself, not that I'm surprised. You don't deserve to be stuck in this place. Just get out!"

Ralph watched as the man's barriers dissolved, first the tell tale quivering lip, and then the rapid blinking against a flood that threatened the man's raising hands.

And then, Ralph did something unthinkable. He did something that, under any other circumstances, would have haunted his dreams. Yet in this moment, it seemed the only thing he could do.

He stepped forward and let one hand rest upon Jack's bony shoulder. He could not bring himself to say the words that Jack needed to hear, simply because they could never be true, so instead he said the next best thing.

"I'm sorry you could not forgive yourself."

And then, in that white, sterilized hospital room, there was a healing more important than anything skin deep. By the end, not two but three boys were crying for something they could never have back; together for as long as the world permitted, and apart for longer than one can imagine.

Out in the hall, Ralph found it much easier to breath, though his nerves hadn't been quite as bad as he'd expected. Bill was watching him with curious, penetrating eyes, and Ralph turned to him as if waiting for an imminent question.

"So," Bill sighed deeply, "You were right. Jack is different. He did over dose of depressants, so that could be part of it. The doctors are worried about him. He keeps complaining of headaches. Are you going to come see him again?"

"I don't know," Ralph rubbed his temples.

"If you do, I'll be here. What happened to you, anyway. You were one of the only one of us who got adopted, not counting the little 'uns; you and Maurice."

"Oh I got two lovely parents whose only son died in the war. They only wanted me to be happy. I'm afraid I disappointed them."

Bill sighed, turning toward the wall.

"Do you still, ya know, keep in contact with them?"

"Yeah, we became closer after I turned 18 and went to a physiologist. They live far out in the country, sometimes I go there to ride horses. Believe it or not, the estate owners nearby knew Percy's parents so they adopted him. They were highly disappointed by what they got."

Bill said nothing, so Ralph asked a question.

"Did you keep track of any of them? Maurice or the twins or anyone?"

"I tried not to," Bill replied.

"The twins weren't orphans."

"No, I don't know what became of them."

"What about..." Ralph choked on the name, spitting it out like poison, "Roger?"

"He never got adopted. He was promptly kicked out on his eighteenth birthday. Apparently he went to the same mental nursing home as Jack but he was bothering Jack so they transferred him. I read in the paper that he got out one time, I think after that he got transferred to a mental prison."

"Oh," Ralph replied softly.

"I could be wrong."

"I hope your right. Maybe the security is higher there. Maybe they can," Ralph choked again, "Help him."

"Look, if you don't ever come back here, no one'll hold is against you. Ralph, I see why you came this time, but you've repaid your debt to his saying goodbye to you. Don't do it if it's hard on you."

"You don't understand. It would be harder on me not to come. I was a mess, an absolute mess before I got help. I don't think it was in my nature to give up, but somehow Jack always seemed so tough. I didn't think he'd give up either. What I mean to say is, if he died, it would be like I could have died if I hadn't gotten help. Don't you see? He and I, we're so different, but we're sorta connected. If he gives up, I could have given up. If he dies, I could have died. If he lives, maybe there's hope for me?"

"Look, Ralph, his well being has no bearing on your well being."

"But it does!"

"No, it doesn't. If you come, fine, but don't fall apart if he falls apart. In there he said you've done well for yourself. When you showed up here in a posh, pressed grey suit, I'd thought the same thing. Don't let him destroy the second time round, too."

Ralph took a deep breath, swallowing loudly.

"Will he fall apart because of this?" Ralph asked. "Will he die?"

"I don't know, no one does, but let's hope not, okay?"

"Really?"

"Yes, I just said what I said. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not Jack, nor anyone else. Besides, I'm afraid you would fall apart. I wonder what kind of crazy physiologist let you come here anyway."

Ralph said nothing, but he did finger the letter in his pocket- the forged letter.

"Look, my lunch break is in a half hour. If you wait around we could go to the tea shop on the corner. I'm not sure I trust you going home alone yet. I may only be an orderly, but I've worked in the hospital long enough to recognize when a visitor isn't feeling up to par after their visit."

"Okay," Ralph nodded slowly, "A warm cuppa would be, well, a bit nice before going back home."

AU: There will probably be more. Please review :)