Really really sorry about the delay, but enjoy the final chapter :)

Wisps of auburn hair trailed across the white pillow, sliding across the soft fabric as their owner turned her pounding head somewhat. Light smashed through her irises as her eyes opened with a pull of will, forceful and merciless. Machines groaned around the disorientated woman, throwing her whereabouts into uncertainty.

Her fingers played a silent piano tune in the air, coming accustomed to the new sensations she felt. The pain seemed to have drifted away, the morphine having been responsible. In that single moment, her thoughts formed no path of enlightenment, they only focused on one thing, and one thing only: Jonny. She wanted him here, with her, where he should be.

The nurse pelted down the corridor, his arms whipping by him in frenzied, robot-like movements; he skidded around the corner, ignoring the curious looks that met him there. Soon, the door to the private room had flown past him and he backed-up, hoping that his dignity was still intact. He flung it open, catapulting himself over the boundary, and instantly regretting it as he stumbled to a halt in front of a less than amused consultant who was groaning because someone had upset her quiet equilibrium.

Realising that Jonny stood before her, Jac was unable to refrain from breaking into a moderately large smile.

"You came," she murmured, pleased. Jonny advanced towards her, and clutched her hand in his.

"I came." Jac squeezed his fingers in appreciation.

"Look, about before…"

"Its fine, I was being stupid," Jonny smiled apologetically at his consultant, "I'm so sorry."

Jac looked up at her nurse, as if seeing him for the first time. His hair was ruffled from the run; the clock on his uniform was upside down; his smile was so dazzlingly brilliant. There was no question on how she felt now.

However, the butterfly sensation that began in her lower abdomen was still there. It consumed her, her thoughts, her body and her soul. She needed to tell him, she needed to tell him everything.

Her eyes wandered over to the folder that contained her notes, every last detail about her, and her secrets. What had happened in her life, her business and, most recently, what had happened in theatre. But, however guilty she might have felt, those brutal barriers built up once again and she sighed inwardly at herself. Now was not the time.

"Oh shut up," she murmured affectionately, before imprinting her cold, white lips onto his.

"Did you two want a moment?" Sacha had appeared in the doorway, holding an array of pink flowers. Jac broke the kiss and couldn't help but grin at her best friend as he entered without asking. "How's my favourite CT consultant?" Sacha peered at her from the foot of the bed.

"I've had better days," Jac found herself admitting. He passed over the flowers, throwing her a sympathetic smile.

"I did buy you chocolates but they mysteriously disappeared during my drive to work so you'll just have to deal with cute and girly for a while," Sacha said sheepishly. Jac shrugged, she didn't do sweet anyway.

"I'll try." She made a show of acting disappointed.

"Oh and this…" Sacha handed Jac a card, seeming rather proud of himself. "…the whole hospital signed it."

Jac grasped the card in her hands, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Indeed, there, in various colours, was every signature the hospital could spare. Even Henrik Hanssen lent a pen to the paper. Chantelle's was the largest of them all, and was followed by the most kisses.

Jac felt something that she hadn't felt in a long time: touched.

And it was then she realised.

Even though the downwards spiral of despair had damaged her, there were people to pick up the pieces. There were people who cared.

And, most importantly, there were people who she loved.

In addition, Elliot had stolen her ink pen, even though he had denied it. The proof was there, in his own personal script, amongst the smudge of jam from his doughnut. Imbecile. He would pay for that one later.

Jac Naylor had returned, in all her glory.

The End