The weary doctor had just sat down for a break that same afternoon when there was a strong knock at his door. Sighing, he hoped it was just someone wanting an answer to a question, rather than needing his assistance with a patient. His aching legs and feet begged him for a short reprieve, so it was with hesitation that he got up to open his office door.

"Yes?" he asked tiredly.

The man turned around, his face void of emotion, as he nodded to his colleague and old friend. "Harold."

"My God," the doctor breathed, taking a step back, "Reginald! Come in, Come in! When on Earth did you get back?"

Reginald Crawley stepped inside the office, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Yesterday afternoon."

Harold closed the door quickly and motioned for Reginald to take a seat. "Do sit! How wonderful to see you! I'm astonished Isobel did not say you were coming home…Was it a surprise for her?"

"Yes, quite," Reginald answered, not taking a seat. Instead, he stood firmly planted in the middle of the office, his hands tightly held together to keep his temper in check.

Harold could tell something was off with his friend…but one could not go through almost a year of an intense war and see what Reginald Crawley had seen and not be changed.

"I'm sure she was delighted," Harold replied, mimicking Reginald and standing beside his desk rather than sitting. "And Matthew…he is to be home soon from his studies. Will you be here to see him?"

"Perhaps. Isobel tells me he was home a few weeks ago….unexpectedly," Reginald replied, his eyes now turning to meet Harold's.

Harold saw the anger in his friend, the twitch in Reginald's jaw, and had to look away. "Yes…yes, he was. He has grown in to quite a young man, your Matthew. And he has been doing a fine job of taking care of the house while you've been away."

"The house? You think I do not know the true reason he was called away from his studies, Harold?" he asked, his tone rising slightly as he took a step towards the other doctor.

"So Isobel's told you then," Harold said with a sigh of relief, the burden finally lifted from his shoulders. "I tried to have her to write you before…"

"Damnit, Harold! You know she would never do that! YOU should have told me!"

Reginald took two steps forward, his hands balling in to fists at his side.

"You know what happened before, Harold!"

Harold stepped back slightly, a bit taken back by Reginald's anger. Though, he couldn't blame him really.

"Yes…yes, I know," he replied quietly, looking down from Reginald's glare. "She forbade anyone to tell you, Reginald. I…I know I should have pushed her harder to say something but…but her health was so unstable that I didn't want to chance placing more stress on she and the baby."

"Exactly the reason you should have written, Harold! My God, I asked you for one thing…one bloody thing…to make sure Isobel took care of herself! Because you know she will run herself ragged! And yet you said absolutely nothing….even went so far as to say Isobel has kept things running smooth at the hospital in your letter last week. But the truth is she hasn't worked in almost three months! Good God, did you think I wouldn't find out?!"

The elder doctor hung his head in shame. He took a few steps to the side and heavily sat down in his chair.

"Reginald…I can't say anything more than I'm sorry," Harold spoke quietly.

The anger that was emanating from Reginald Crawley seemed to dissipate, as the younger doctor turned away. His hands came to his hips, his fingers digging in to his flesh, as his heartbeat began to steady to a normal pace. He took a few steps towards the far wall, looking out the window in to the bright sunlight. The cheery mood of passersby seemed so contradictory that he had to contain himself from throwing open the panes and shouting at them to cease such merriment.

"The past few weeks have been much better for her," Harold said quietly from his chair. "She has been resting much more and has been able to keep most of her meals down. The baby has begun growing…I am hopeful that she will carry to 36 or 37 weeks. I know it is still early, but I will see that as a triumph given how difficult this has been for her."

"A triumph?" Reginald scoffed, turning back to glare at Harold. "How can you call a premature infant a triumph?"

"Reginald, I only meant…"

"I know what you meant," Reginald replied, both hands rising in defeat. Sighing, his hands fell to his sides as he collapsed in to the chair in front of Harold's desk. "God, I should have been here."

After a few moments of silence, Harold chanced standing and coming to sit beside his friend.

"The same would have happened if you had been here, Reginald. Isobel has listened…she has done exactly as I've asked. Here and there I would have liked her to rest a bit more…but for Isobel, she has truly done her part. And had you been here, she would have had the same symptoms….the same morning sickness, dizziness, bleeding…"

Reginald's head shot up, his eyes blazing as he met Harold's weary gaze. "Bleeding?"

Harold fell silent, looking down at his hands and nodding. Reginald cursed under his breath, allowing one hand to cover his tear-filled eyes. After a few more tense moments of silence, Reginald stood and looked down at his mentor, colleague and his friend.

"Help me save her. Please…Harold…I can't lose her."