Safe & Sound

Kennedy stares for a moment, unable to grasp the fact that she's standing in front of her. They've spent years apart, but Gemma looks the same. She has the same rich dark brown hair, the same gentle eyes, and the same friendly smile that Harry and apparently now Addison share. But there's uncertainty in the way she carries herself, nervous to be here after such a long time spent being hopelessly furious at her old friend.

''Maybe I shouldn't have come...'' Gemma doubts herself, taking a step toward the exit.

''No, wait.'' Kennedy makes her cease her getaway. ''Please, come inside.''

Quickly, before Gemma has time to change her mind again and leave, Kennedy starts for the door. As she unlocks it, Addison keeps her face hidden in her mother's hair, away from Gemma who can recognize the child almost instantly as the one her brother told her about on the phone.

''I didn't mean to show up unannounced. Harry, uh, gave me the address. I was afraid you wouldn’t even be home,'' Gemma tells her on her way into the flat. She's speaking awfully fast, something she's done when she's nervous since she was Addison's age, but Kennedy catches every word.

''It's alright,'' she assures her, ''I hope you weren't waiting long.''

''Um, about an hour. Enough time to debate leaving a good fifteen times.''

Gemma laughs humorlessly and watches as Kennedy sets the child in her arms down on the floor, beginning to unzip her jacket and untie her shoes.

''Addie, do you know who this is?'' Kennedy asks her in an attempt to lure her out of her chronic shyness.

Addison uneasily shakes her head. Once the outerwear is draped over a chair, she’s scooped back up and encouraged to look at Gemma's face, which for a reason she can't understand is beginning to resemble someone else’s in her memory.

''This is our friend Harry's big sister,'' Kennedy tells her, ''Gemma. Can you say hi to Gemma?''

It takes a moment, but Addison looks the new face in the eye and greets her, ''Hi.''

Gemma seems to be at a loss for words at first. There's so much of Harry in the child, it's astounding.

''Hello,'' she waves.

''Do you play the fruit game, too?''

Kennedy laughs at Addison's bizarre question, explaining to Gemma that it's merely something she associates Harry with and she doesn’t need to answer.

''Okay, silly. Time for your nap. We'll talk to Gemma more later, alright?''

Addison nods and Kennedy excuses herself for a moment to tuck her into bed. Tonight, she clutches more at the pink rabbit Harry gave her, whom she's named Henry for whatever reason, and the last thing she says before she drifts off to sleep is ''I hope Harry was sick like me, so I'll get better soon, too.'' Kennedy tries not to get upset over it, not with Gemma visiting. But it’s difficult, and it’s even harder to promise her that she will get better. Someday.

Back in the living room, Kennedy brushes off the idea and offers Gemma something to drink. ''I'm out of tea and coffee. It should be a crime, I know... But I have enough juice to supply an army. And water.”

Gemma chuckles, meeting her in the kitchen as she rifles through the fridge. ''Either one is fine.''

Kennedy searches through too many cabinets for some glasses, not used to needing to serve drinks to anyone. Lately she’s been doing quite a lot of that. After finding glasses that aren’t chipped or plastered with cartoons, she pulls out the half gallon carton of apple juice and pours it out. They drinks are set on the kitchen table and she takes a seat across from Gemma.

''How have you been?'' Kennedy asks nervously, “I heard you were doing well in school.''

''Arguably,'' she nods bemusedly, ''I’m working on my Master's.''

''That's wonderful.”

Gemma smiles at her with sparkling eyes. ''She's beautiful, you know.''

''Yeah, she is,'' she agrees, staring down at the untouched glass in her hands.

''You're probably wondering why I'm here.''

Among the millions of questions she wants to ask, that is definitely one of them. ''A bit.''

''Harry called me a while back,'' Gemma explains, ''He told me you had invited him out for coffee. I didn’t believe him at first. Thought he was pulling a prank.”

Kennedy bites her tongue at the thought of how Gemma must have felt to hear such news. Furious, probably.

''I told him not to go...'' she admits, ''But then he said he'd already went and that he'd found out something.''

Gemma is looking at Kennedy in an ambiguous expression and Kennedy holds her breath.

''He told me about Addison,'' she explains softly, ''And how she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.''

''I bet he told you what an awful person I am, keeping her from him.''

Gemma shakes her head. ''He told me you were incredible, especially with taking care of her.''

It’s obvious by the dark sadness in her eyes that Harry also told her about Addison's condition and how serious it is.

''Listen,'' she sighs, ''Honestly, I didn't ever plan on coming here. I've spent so many years angry. It was strange to suddenly turn a switch and change.''

She reaches across the table to take one of Kennedy's cold hands.

''But when he told me all of that, I had to see you. I had to apologize, Kenn, for being so wrong for so long. I had no idea that was why you left. I'm so sorry.''

Kennedy is quick to refute. ''You were right to hate me.''

''You were pregnant and alone. What other choice did you have? I remember your parents and how bloody awful they treated you. Sorry if that's blunt but it's the cold truth. Harry might have gotten upset that you didn't tell him, but I understand why you ran. I get it, Kenn. And that's why I'm so sorry. I've wronged you and wasted all of these years without my best friend.''

''I should have answered the phone,'' Kennedy reminds her quietly, already feeling tears building in the back of her eyes.

''You were terrified! I can't even imagine what you had to go through. You didn't do anything wrong, love.''

She wants to get down on her knees and beg Gemma not to tell her that. She's done everything wrong. But after today, when one person has so abruptly opted out of her life, another has come to offer her a rekindling of friendship and the timing of such a reunion is the best thing she could have asked for.

''When Harry told me everything,'' Gemma continues her explanation, ''The first thing I told him was he has to stay with you and be a proper father. I even advised him to end it with Miranda. It wasn’t worth anything to begin with.''

''I thought Miranda was a friend of yours.''

''Friend? I wouldn’t say that. Just an old roommate. She can be sweet, but she drove me mad if I'm being honest.''

Kennedy's confusion is obvious on her face. ''Then why set them up?''

''I didn't think it'd last long at all,'' she defends, ''Since you left, he hadn't gone anywhere or done a single thing. He sat at home every day watching telly like a miserable old man. I figured she'd take him out a few places and show him what he's been missing out in the world. I even told her that that was her only job. I don't think she listened.''

''He brought her to the hospital today.''

Gemma's eyes nearly pop out of her skull. ''He's still with her?''

Kennedy nods.

''The sneaky rat, he told me he wasn't.''

''I think they were separated for a bit after he told her about me and Addie. But as of,'' she double-checks her watch, ''five hours ago, they're together.''

''Unbelievable.''

Kennedy's quizzical face prompts her to explain why this is all so hard for her to accept.

''He told me he was going to leave her like I told him,'' she admits, “And try to be with you.”

It only confirms that today's awful incident was her own fault. Kennedy returns to staring down at her still untouched beverage.

''That was never going to happen, Gemma.''

''Why not?''

She sighs. ''I told him I didn't want to be with him.''

''Why would go and tell him a lie like that? Come on, Kenn, you were crazy about each other. He wouldn’t ever shut up about you. It was sickening, quite frankly,'' she laughs, ''But sort of beautiful at the same time. All of that can't be erased in four years.''

''It's complicated...''

''Is it really? Or is it just that you don't want to tell me?''

Kennedy stirs in her seat uneasily. ''It's not that I don't want to be with him. Having him here has made everything feel so...easy. And right. But I can't be with him like that. Not with after what I did.''

''He told me you were never going to get over that…'' Gemma points.

''I'm not. It's not something you just move on from.''

''Why isn't it? Tell me, Kenn, because I don't understand. Maybe it's the psychologist in me coming out now, but staying so hung up on something like this isn't healthy.''

Kennedy looks her straight in the eye.

''If I told you, I would lose you all over again.''

Gemma tightens her grip on her hand. ''I'm not going anywhere. Clearly you know by now that there's no breaking the Styles-Ellis bond. It always finds its way back together,'' she smiles.

She searches for any hint of dishonesty or deceit in Gemma's eyes and finds none. But what scares her is that one day those green eyes, the same ones she saw in Harry today, will turn on her.

''When I'm ready,'' Kennedy proposes, ''I'll explain everything. From the beginning.''

''I'll bring the Cadbury and shoulder to cry on,'' Gemma offers, grinning at her with a smile so big it's contagious.

''It's really so good to see you,'' Kennedy tells her honestly.

''And you, love. But you have to promise me something.''

''Anything.''

''If I call you, will you answer the phone from now on?'' she teases.

Kennedy laughs and with a nod, she says, ''Of course.''



Having Gemma active in her life once more gives Kennedy more of a backbone. She has someone she can rely on who's proven to be trustworthy and quite the advice giver in the past. The only possible flaw in any of it is that she's so close to Harry, she's literally blood. In the event of a feud between them, it's clear and understandable that Gemma will always side with her brother. Whether that'll get in the way of her friendship with Kennedy given the circumstances is up for speculation.

As Gemma sits on the floor of the dining room in front of Addie and her toys, there's something special about the way she looks at the child. It's strange for her to think that the bubbly little girl who has finally overcome her shyness with her new friend is her niece. She's her baby brother's baby, and it's hard to wrap her head around that fact.

Kennedy watches the pair from the corner of her eye as she washes up dishes in the kitchen. It's the second night this week that Gemma has come over for dinner and volunteered to make the meal.

She gets to know Addison similarly to how Harry did. But whereas Harry's friendship with the child was nearly instantaneous, it's taken Gemma a bit longer to convince Addison that she's safe to open up to.

''So this is Charlie,'' Gemma points to the bear having already been introduced to him, ''But who is this?''

Addison hugs the pink rabbit closer to her heart and smiles. ''This is Henry. Harry gave him to me.''

''Oh, how sweet of him. You know once he gave me a bracelet for my birthday?'' She shows her one of the silver chains on her wrist decorated in charms. ''See, it's this one.''

''Wow, that's pretty,'' Addison grins, marveling over the bright embellishments that catch the light and sparkle.

''Would you like to wear it?''

Her eyes, the ones that shock Gemma as they look so much like Harry's with the exception of their color, light up at her offer.

''Yes, please,'' she smiles.

Gemma unhooks the bracelet and wraps it twice around Addison's thin wrist so that it fits.

''That looks almost as lovely as you,'' she compliments her.

After excitedly thanking her dozens of times, Addie goes on talking even more to Gemma, rarely ever seeming to stop. Most of her stories revolve around Harry. It's clear she's become attached to him, but she doesn't talk about him like he's her father and it concerns Gemma that she doesn't know yet. Before she has the chance to politely excuse herself from her play date and have a serious talk with Kennedy, the obnoxious doorbell rings.

“Remind me to get a new bell or yank it out,'' Kennedy smirks as she dries her hands on the front of her jeans.

Gemma laughs and lets her tend to the door. Kennedy turns the knob and of course, she's greeted by the one person she's been trying to avoid. Dressed in an outfit that seems far too formal than anything she knows he owns, complete with a blazer and beige khaki pants, he stands before her looking like he's just come from a date. But he definitely didn't dress himself, that's for sure. Kennedy almost laughs at how ridiculous he looks.

''Hello,'' Harry greets her blandly, ''I told Addison I'd come to see her.''

''She's a bit preoccupied at the moment.'' Kennedy keeps her eyes averted from his. A peculiar thing happens whenever she looks at his face now. She sees the face of a stranger and that's not just because his hair is suddenly perfectly hairsprayed into place rather than the disheveled waves she's so used to. There's an entirely different person who she hasn't had the discomfort of meeting yet standing in her doorway.

''With what?'' he asks, slightly bewildered.

''Babe, you left your phone in the car,'' an amused voice nears them from around the corner and Kennedy's eyes widen.

''You brought her? To my house? Are you mad?''

He rushes to hush her as Miranda emerges and stands beside him, suggestively slipping the phone into his back pocket. She's dressed quite outrageously as well, but Kennedy expects it from her.

''Hello,'' she greets Kennedy, but it's neither pleasant nor well-intended. Kennedy doesn't say a word, keeping her eyes narrowed.

''Anyway,'' she turns back to Harry, ''Like I said, she's preoccupied right now. You can come back later. Alone.''

''What?'' Miranda glares.

''You heard me.''

It doesn't go unnoticed that Kennedy uses the same insolent line that was used on her the day she saw the woman for the first time.

''What's going on?'' Gemma arrives behind Kennedy after catching the last defensive bit of the conversation and deciding now might be the proper time to intrude.

''Gemma?'' Harry creases his eyebrows, ''What are you doing here?''

''Uh, long story, really. Meant to call. Sorry.''

''You know her?'' Miranda asks him, ready to get angry at yet another woman in his life she doesn't know about.

''Ran, you know her, too.'' He stares at her incredulously. Kennedy smirks. Is she daft or what?

''Oh,'' Miranda suddenly realizes, ''Gemma, hi! You look...different. Did you cut your hair?''

Gemma shakes her head. ''No, but it's been a while.'' She laughs in an attempt to be the mediator. She isn't Miranda's biggest fan either, but she can't let that show and especially not now when you could cut the tension between them all with a knife.

There's a long moment of silence during which none of the four say a word and it isn't broken until Gemma clears her throat nervously and comes to the rescue.

''So, uh, Miranda, long time no see, yeah? I think I've lost your number when I changed phones... Mind stepping out and giving it to me?''

Before she can object, Gemma's ushering her out past the landing and through the main door, purposely giving Kennedy and Harry a moment to themselves.

''I can't believe you,'' Kennedy sighs as she turns back into flat.

''Save the lecture.'' He stiffly follows her and shuts the door behind him.

''How dare you bring her to my place,'' she says, crossing her arms over each other, ''I don't want her here.''

''You sure are picky about what you want and don't want.''

''Seriously? That's what this is about?'' she scoffs, ''If you can't handle rejection, Harry, you're going nowhere in life.''

He turns to glare at her. ''That's not what this is about. I'm happy where I am. I just came by to see Addison and instead I get you blowing up at me.''

''What else do you expect when you show up unannounced with your girlfriend?''

''Since when do you hate her guts? Just a while ago, you were telling me how awful you felt for screaming at her.''

''Yeah, well, people change.''

He scoffs quietly. ''You would know.''

She's taken aback by the severity of his defenses tonight. That last one hit her hard and she's at a loss of a comeback that cruel. Her hand flies up to her temples, feeling a migraine coming on already.

''Look,'' he sighs, ''I'm here to see Addison and that's it.''

When Kennedy speaks, her voice is low and hurt. ''Gemma put her in the room. See her and then get out.''

She turns her back to him to secretly wipe the buildup of tears in her eyes at his insults, and for a moment he feels his hard shell begin to soften. But he doesn't have time to act on it when Gemma returns, evidently leaving Miranda outside.

''I told her to wait by the car,'' she informs them. Judging by the tension of their stances, she draws the conclusion that she's just walked in on an argument.

''Didn't you hear me?'' Kennedy asks thickly.

''Kenn, don't be like that.''

She whips around to show him her reddening face. ''Be like what? Hurt? Because that's what I am.''

His eyes that have held glares for so long these past few days are suddenly showing hints of sympathy.

''I don’t even know who you are anymore. I never thought you'd do this to me,'' she cries, ''You promised me I wasn't alone and that you'd be here. You said you forgave me.''

She violently swipes the backs of her hands over her cheeks.

''I've fucked you over, I know,'' she admits, ''Everyone knows. Maybe I deserve this. But I can tell you I never expected it from you.''

Quicker than any of them can catch it, Harry returns to his narrow eyes, open chest, and tight fists.

''You expected me to chase you everywhere you went, but I'm done doing that, Kennedy. I'm done running after you when you leave. Maybe a taste of your own medicine is what you needed.''

''Harry,'' Gemma firmly calls him out as if warning him to watch what he's saying.

''Are you guys fighting?''

The tiny voice from the tiny toddler standing by the door she's pushed open is whimpering in fear having overheard some of the shouting. Kennedy immediately turns her face away in shame.

''No, Addie, we're not fighting,'' Harry rushes to tell her, his voice considerably softer than seconds earlier.

''You were yelling,'' she tells him with a quivering lip.

No one corrects her because she's right. Kennedy quickly crosses the room to scoop her up into her arms and press her head to her shoulder.

''Go home,'' Kennedy tells Harry threateningly, ''And don't come back.''

She departs into the bedroom, locking it behind her so she can comfort her daughter in peace. Out of anger, Harry reaches for the front door and slams it behind him, escaping onto the landing.

Gemma follows him and keeps him from going where Miranda can see him. She tells him the cold truth he needs to hear.

''You're both acting like children,'' she says with a shake of her head, ''And it's about time you focus less on your stupid ego and more on that little girl.''

''You don't know what she did to me, Gemma,'' he accuses, turning to stare her down with powerful eyes.

''You're right. I don't have a bloody clue how you feel at all. But your feelings mean nothing next to the wellbeing of that child, do you hear me? Get your act together.''

''You're not my mother.''

She scoffs disbelievingly. ''And you think Mum would be proud to see you acting like this? What the hell is wrong with you? Look at you, you've gone mad.''

''Yeah, I have! Mad for her, Gemma! I always have been!''

He runs his hands through his hair, pulling at the strands hard enough to hopefully knock some sense into him.

''Then what are you with that crackshot for? God, your relationships are still childish even four years later!''

''Because,'' he sighs, defeated, ''I'm tired. I waited nearly four years, Gemma. Four years. For nothing. I can't fight for her anymore. It's too much. I have to move on.''

''Well you're doing a proper shit job at it. Moving on isn't rubbing the new girlfriend in the old girlfriend's face, you idiot. Were you trying to make her jealous bringing Miranda out here like that?''

''No,'' he says quietly, ''Yes. I don't know...''

She approaches him, placing her hands on his tall shoulders.

''You know better than this,'' she reminds him, ''And I know you know none of this is right. So fix it.''

''How?''

''If you honestly like Miranda, and I can't fathom why, no offense, then you need to be serious about her. Don't just drag her to every encounter you have with Kenn. And speaking of Kenn, you need to talk to her. Properly. No yelling and no rude comments. What you said back there was awful, Harry, honestly.''

''I was angry.''

''Clearly.''

''What am I supposed to do when the person I want to be with doesn't want to be with me, Gemma? It's impossible to be in the same room as her and not feel anything for her,'' he admits in a rushed whisper. He can't afford either side, the woman in the flat or the woman out by the car, to hear this.

''I don't think she knows what she wants.''

''Is that what she told you?'' his eyes brighten, ''What else did she say?''

Gemma shakes her head. ''She hasn't told me a thing. Look, I just got here, alright? I didn't know you people had a bloody soap opera going on...''

He groans, hiding his face in his hands for a moment. ''I hate this. I want things to go back to normal.''

''Says the kid in a blazer,'' she laughs, ''What the hell are you wearing, Haz?''

He pulls carelessly at the hem. ''Miranda got it for me.''

''Oh, joy.''

''She's not so bad, alright?'' he tells her matter-of-factly, ''At least she doesn't lie to me.''

''Look, if she makes you happy, I'm happy,'' her voice softens, ''But like I said, the way you're going about this is wrong. So, so, wrong. You need to---''

Before she can conclude her sentence, the flat door opens and out runs a red faced Addison, sprinting directly for Harry with Charlie gripped in her hand.

''Harry, don't go,'' she sobs, ''Please.''

He kneels and opens his arms for her, scooping her against his chest. She rests her head in the crook of his neck and clings to him the hardest he's ever felt. He and Gemma look toward the doorway and spot Kennedy holding it open, her face swollen and her eyes bleak. She walks away slowly and silently, leaving the door open for whenever Addie chooses to come back inside.

''Mama was crying again,'' Addie cries into him, ''You have to make it better.''

Harry's face is twisted in agony as he tries to comfort her, rocking her back and forth. Gemma holds the tensed spot between her eyes.

''I'll try,'' he promises the child, ''I promise.''



The thick steam filling the bathroom is making him lightheaded, but the hot water hitting his face from the overhead shower brings him back to earth. His head aches and his muscles are tense after a harsh, sleepless night. He could think of nothing but the pain on Kennedy’s and Addison’s face for hours. Even now, he can’t get the images out of his mind. Even the sight of Gemma’s disappointment in him has his heart racing in shame.

After ceasing the water and stepping out onto the humid floor, he grabs a towel and leans on the sink to kill time. Miranda’s just outside, likely waiting for him, and he’s not sure if he can deal with her right now. He wipes the fog off the mirror and sees an unknown staring back at him.

Kennedy’s words suddenly make sense. I don’t know who you are anymore.

He doesn’t recognize his reflection. There’s a darkness in his eyes that wasn’t there a few days ago. His cheekbones are sleeker from scarcely eating out of stress and he looks at least five years older.

“I hate when Gemma’s right,” he mumbles to himself, turning on his heel and escaping out into the clear air of the bedroom.

He eyes the maroon button-up and pair of dark wash trousers laid out on the bed and chooses to ignore him. Miranda will learn eventually that she can’t dress him like a doll. Instead he settles on a t-shirt and jeans, all black and all satisfyingly rebellious.

“Good morning,” Miranda sings when she hears him open and shut the bedroom door, “Guess who made breakfast!”

He enters the kitchen to find her in front of the counter on her cell phone. There are plates on the table with single pieces of bread on them and glasses of orange juice beside them.

“You made toast,” he points.

“Yeah,” she seems thoroughly proud of herself when she turns to him, but her smile is quickly wiped off, “What have you done to your hair?”

“Nothing,” he tells her honestly. He pushed it back into a beanie and decided it was as good as it was going to get today.

“Alright, then.”

He picks ups a slice of toast and takes a bite. “You’re going to work?”

“Not until noon.” She smiles and approaches him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “We have a few hours to ourselves.”

“Actually,” he says between chews, “I’m going to see Addison.”

“Oh, lovely, I’m wearing that blouse I wanted to show her.”

“Miranda,” he sighs, “I don’t think you should come with me. It’s just a bit chaotic right now. You understand, right?”

The dissatisfaction in her is obvious, but she nods and loosens her arms. “Yeah, I understand.”

With a kiss atop her head, he thanks her for the toast and tells her he’ll see her later.

“We’ll grab dinner, alright? Whatever you want.” He quickly zips up his jacket and reaches for his car keys.

“Harry?” she calls to him before he reaches the door.

He turns.

“Never mind,” she tries to smile, “See you.”



The long, grueling months that have been spent regularly bringing Addison for treatment have felt more like years up until this point. Kennedy fears that when her daughter looks back on her childhood, she'll remember the sterile, white walls of the hospital more than anything else. Each time she brings her, although the treatment is for the child's own good, Kennedy feels like an awful mother, pushing the traumatized toddler to do something she despises more than anything in the world. Today is no different. In fact, today is worse. Far worse.

Addison screams so loud into Harry's chest, writhing against the bed in a burst of tremors and shakes. He struggles to hold her down so she doesn't hurt herself, but her cries are threatening his own cries, breaking his heart the more he sees her like this. On the opposite side, Kennedy sits, rocking back and forth in her chair, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around her torso, holding herself together, and the other tightly gripped by Addison's terrified fingers. She sings her lullaby, loudly and off key in her desperation to quiet her, but nothing has worked for hours. Addison remains in shambles, screaming things neither of them can understand anymore.

''Addie,'' Harry pleads with her, ''Please stop crying. Please, I'm begging you.''

She pulls at the collar of his shirt, wailing all the while. Kennedy suddenly springs to her feet when one of the doctors barges in.

''Do something!'' she commands, ''Please!''

He looks concerned at first, scanning his eyes over Harry's desperate face and Addison's twisted in horror. Then he approaches them, standing over the child.

''Addie, do you remember our pain scale? What number would you give it right now?'' he asks her but then has to repeat it several times until it gets through to her.

She cries breathlessly, struggling to get the answer out. ''Ten,'' she whimpers.

''What hurts?''

She hides her face against Harry roughly and can't speak another word.

''What kind of stupid question is that?'' Harry asks, infuriated, ''Everything hurts! Just do something to make it stop, for God's sake!''

The doctor's eyes are sympathetic as he beckons Kennedy to follow him outside the room where they can talk without needing to yell over Addison.

''Doctor, please,'' she begs by the door, ''She's been like this for hours.''

''We changed her treatment like we discussed last week,'' he reminds her, ''It's going to take a bit of time for her to get used to it. It's very aggressive.''

''Is it honestly worth it if she's this miserable?'' Kennedy searches for some kind of answers in his eyes. ''She's only a baby. She can't handle it.''

''Ms. Ellis, she's finally starting to respond,'' he tells her, ''If we stop now, we'll lose everything. Everything she's been through up until now will be worth nothing.''

Her face momentarily brightens. ''She's getting better?''

''She's responding,'' he corrects, ''Barely. But that makes me optimistic considering how long she's been fighting it.''

''So if we keep doing this, she can beat this.''

''The chances are good, yes,'' he smiles, but his grin is soon replaced by seriousness, ''But at a cost. She's going to have to endure a lot.''

Kennedy shuts her eyes at the thought. A mere second spent seeing Addison in so much pain kills her. How she'll have to handle weeks or even months of it, she doesn't know. But the possibility that there's a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel they've been trapped in for months is telling her she can't give up. Not on Addison. Not ever.

With a nod of understanding, she lets the doctor get back to his work and turns back into the room, immediately cringing at the cries echoing off the walls.

''Where did he go?'' Harry asks hurriedly.

''There's nothing he can do,'' she tells him weakly, sitting beside the pair and lowering her forehead onto the child's arm.

In the back of his mind, that was the answer he was expecting all along and it breaks her heart. He remains in his position, holding the child tightly against his chest to offer her some kind of comfort. He doesn't know how well it's working, but it's the most he can do. He's glad she's tucked away against his shirt, shielded from the sight of his face.

It's moments like these that make the petty feuds he has with Kennedy seem small and insignificant. This morning, he put aside his pride, left Miranda at home, and dedicated his day to caring for his daughter. He still has a rickety relationship with Kennedy. There's no doubting that. But in this moment, as they're both in misery watching their child in misery, he thinks less of any of the issues they have outside these walls.

Kennedy has been indifferent towards him all afternoon, speaking to him only when it’s absolutely necessary. But she has to admit it. She’s thankful he’s here, offering some comfort to Addison, and she’s thankful he’s alone. It’s not the same atmosphere in the room as it used to be, but it’s the closest thing to normality either of them can reach right now.

Eventually, much later than they anticipated, Addison falls asleep from exhaustion over crying her eyes out all day. Harry and Kennedy can finally breathe in the silence, alone in their separate corners of the room. When the time comes for the child to be taken home, Harry hesitates in offering a ride, more concerned over his dispute with Kennedy. But then he realizes how ridiculous the thought is and insists on taking the two of them home despite any of the hostility.

The drive is so quiet, he can practically hear the sound of his heart thumping against his chest. He glances at Addison asleep in the backseat every so often and even at Kennedy, who has had no problem all day showing her apathy.

“Okay,” he sighs calmly, “I’m sorry.”

Shivers of nerves ignite down her spine. She’s staggered by his words.

“I don’t know what I was doing. I guess I was just… I was hurt, alright? That’s all.”

She stares down at the fidgeting hands in her lap.

“But I won’t behave like that anymore,” he promises, “I won’t bring Miranda without talking to you first. I won’t try to kiss you again. I won’t bring that up again either. It’s…the past. And the past is behind us.”

The car is turned into the street beside Kennedy’s flat building and Harry puts it in park. He waits for her to say something, but she remains quiet as she opens up the door and turns back to pull Addison out. Harry sighs deeply, accepting that he probably deserves her ignoring him even after his untimely apology.

But she surprises him yet again, stopping in front of the passenger’s side door with Addison asleep on her shoulder. He quickly rolls down the window.

“Just because we’re not together like that,” she tells him, “Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

And with that, she climbs up the steps and enters the building, leaving him to his mangled thoughts.