Note: "Oide", pronounced "itta" is the Gaelic word for "step-father".

Joanna hurried across the parking lot, shifting the duffel she'd packed during her brief stop at the house to her other shoulder. Her throat ached and tears flooded her eyes, so overcome with worry and gratitude and just not sure what to do with it all. Sniffing, she pressed the back of her hand to her cheeks, and then took a deep breath.

"He's okay," she said to herself…but then blinked and tears she just couldn't control anymore spilled down over her cheeks. Giving up, she allowed herself to cry, and sat on a bench outside the entrance to the hospital. She pulled a tissue out of her purse, and blotted her eyes, waiting for the storm of emotion to pass.

She'd seen the car.

The tow truck had brought it to a local garage, and she'd gone there to retrieve Jim's briefcase. And…seeing the car, the shape it was in…

Aunt Aurelan and Uncle Sam had told her everything they knew when they called; that her oide had been involved in a multiple car accident on the highway, that he'd had some trouble breathing because of a damaged lung, but that they were able to treat it and he would be fine, and that her father was with him.

"Oh, God, thank God he's okay…I'm coming. I'll leave right now."

"Honey, there's really no reason for you to rush down here," Aurelan said gently. "Jim is just resting now, and they're going to keep him for a couple of days until they remove the chest tube."

"And he wouldn't want you to miss classes, especially since there's no emergency and nothing you can do," Sam added. "The weekend is right around the corner. Come then."

"Well…okay," she'd said, momentarily swayed. "Call me if you hear anything."

"Will do," Sam said.

"Of course, honey," Aurelan agreed. "Love you."

But then she'd called her father, and to her surprise, he answered. He'd said basically the same things, but his voice…she knew his voice. She knew when he was angry, or disappointed, or proud or happy. But this time…he was scared, and that scared her.

Jim would be fine. Her oide was fine. But it could've been so much worse, and her father was struggling with the knowledge of that, all by himself.

So she got in her car and drove the two hours back home. She went to the house and packed a bag – her father was planning on staying with him – including the cell charger because he'd mentioned the battery was almost drained. Then she called the insurance company to get that process started, and found out where the car was taken. She drove by there to get the items she knew Jim would've had with him, and she saw the car.

Because of Jim, Joanna believed in God. She believed in miracles and His plan, and after seeing that car, she thanked God with all her heart that He'd had His hand on Jim's shoulder that morning.

Sniffing a final time, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"That's enough. Buck up," she said aloud.

Standing, she shouldered the bag again, and walked into the hospital. She got a Visitor's Pass and found out what room Jim was in, then followed the signs to the correct wing before taking the elevator up. The door to his room was standing slightly ajar, and it was dim inside. Joanna hesitated before pushing it open further and easing inside.

Oide was laying, semi-reclined, bare-chested. She knew he had a tube in his chest, but actually seeing it was still a little shocking. That, and the I.V. and the oxygen and pulse oximeter and leads on his chest…there seemed to be wires and tubes everywhere. But, she could see on the monitor that his heartbeat was strong and steady, and his blood pressure was normal, and he looked like he was sleeping comfortably. And something in her relaxed, finally.

"Jo."

Her eyes landed on her father where he sat.

"Dad," she said, and crossed the small room as he stood to meet her. He put his arms around her, holding her tightly and stroking her hair. She let the bag slip off her arm to the floor and wrapped her arms around him, too.

"I thought I told you not to come," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"I had to," she said.

"I'm glad you did. Is he really okay?"

Leonard released her and looked over at Jim. "Yeah, Darlin', he's fine. He was slightly sedated to…" he trailed off, sensitive to Jim's embarrassment over his phobia. "But he's just sleeping now."

"To keep him calm," Joanna filled in. She rolled her eyes when her father looked at her in surprise.

"Dad, really? I'm not an idiot. I know he hates hospitals."

Leaving her father, she walked to Jim's bedside and leaned over him. So gently, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand, and to her surprise his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey oide…I'm so happy you're okay," she whispered.

He smiled as she kissed his cheek again. "Even better now, Jo."

Leonard joined them at his other side, taking his other hand, and Jo reached a hand out to her father, too. With the three of them linked like that, Jim closed his eyes to rest, Jo did as well, a tear slipping down her cheek as she offered a silent prayer of thanks.

And though Leonard didn't usually pray, he did this time.