The shaking won't end as she steps out of the room soon it becomes too much and Lyla stinks down to the sterilized floor, sobbing.

"Miss are you alright?" An older man with an overcoat and clipboard in hand rushes over, placing a hand on her back.

"Yes just a overwhelmed."

"Here lets go have a seat in an actual chair." She nods with small smile as she pulled herself up, with a little help from him. He leads her a few feet over to a gathering of chairs and a coffee table holding a few magazine of various dates.

"Thanks." To her surprise he took a seat next to her, watching her with a cynical, but caring eye. Lyla lets out nervous laughter. "It's ok I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are, but has a doctor it's my job to make certain of it. May I ask what has overwhelmed you?"

"He's alive. My son he's alive. All these years I had wondered, thought of him who he might be, deep back in my mind I never thought …." She begins to tear up again. The Doctor leans back in the chair completely unsure what to think or to say.