~~~~~*~~~~~

Clare sat with Libby on the second of her daily visits, staring at her best friend's face and trying to think of something to say. It was so hard to keep the visits from falling into silence, especially as it was all relying on one person.

It really hurt her that she couldn't talk to Libby. Really talk. She thought that she'd been upset before, but after JC's admission... needless to say, she needed her best friend more than ever.

Clare chewed down onto her bottom lip as the tears began to form in her eyes. She literally felt as though everything in her life was falling apart. Sure, she'd experienced bad times in the past. In fact, her first few months in the States had been pretty intense and stressful, but she'd pulled through it. She was tough and determined, but this was something else. There'd never been a time in her life when she didn't have Libby with her for moral support. And now the accident had ripped her friend from her. It was too much to handle.

At least her insomnia had finally broken. She'd guessed that at some point it would. That the exhaustion would finally take over and she'd have to sleep. But now she felt as though she were permanently in a haze, even when she was awake. Her limbs felt constantly heavy, and as well as fighting through the panic attacks that grabbed her at the most unexpected times, she was struggling to keep her head in the game. There was no relief to be found anywhere; at home or now at work. Her place of solitude had become just another place she wished to avoid; and it was all because of one person. Alyson.

Clare bit back a sob at the thought of the woman's name. She blinked several times and forced her eyes to remain on Libby's still face. She needed to be present, not thinking about JC and his... Clare bit harder down onto her lip. Don't cry, don't cry...

She took two deep breaths and forced herself to push her thoughts of JC and Alyson to the back of her mind. This wasn't helping, and it certainly wasn't fair on Libby. Libby needed her, and she wanted to be there for her friend. Fortunately, as she was trying to regain her composure, Clare remembered that she'd bought something in for Libby from home and she snatched her handbag up off the floor and shuffled through it, trying to find the item that she was looking for.

Once she grasped it between her fingers, Clare pulled the photo frame out from her bag and turned it around so that she could see the photograph inside. A sad smile crossed her face as she regarded a slightly younger version of herself and Libby, their arms wrapped tightly around each other as they beamed comically at the camera.

It was a photograph that Libby had asked her mother to take a few years before when Clare and she had both still been living in the UK. For some reason Libby loved the photo and kept it beside her bed at the apartment. Clare wasn't that much of a fan; she'd always thought that she was pulling a strange face in it. However, knowing how much Libby loved it, Clare had decided to bring it in from home to place on her friend's new 'bedside table'.

She pulled out the flap at the back of the frame that helped it to stand upright and placed it on the small table next to the vase of flowers that Libby's mother kept filled with beautiful, scented flowers. Catherine had told Clare in passing that Libby had loved the smell of flowers as a girl, and had even been given her own patch in the family garden back home in England to grow some of her own.

Clare had taken up the idea, and since then had started bringing in her own reminders from home so that Libby would feel comfortable in her hospital room. It was only a small gesture, and Clare knew that Libby was completely unaware of it, but it still made her feel better to know that she'd made the effort.

Justin, on the other hand, had taken the idea to an extreme. Since the day after Libby's operation he'd seemed to have gone into overdrive and had transformed Libby's room until it barely resembled the sparse, clinical space that it had been before. Fortunately, the hospital staff had been understanding and had even encouraged him in his endeavour, although Clare felt that he may have taken things a bit too far.

There was now a new comforter over the bottom of Libby's bed—Justin had insisted on taking Clare shopping with him to get exactly the right colour—he'd collected and bought in the posters that Libby had taped to her bedroom walls at the apartment. And— strangest of all, Clare had thought—he'd driven all the way to Disneyworld to buy a Donald Duck plushie, which Libby had apparently wanted when they'd gone there as a group but hadn't been able to afford to buy at the time. When he'd explained to her his intentions, Clare had thought that he'd lost the plot but he'd been so adamant that Clare had decided to wash her hands of it. What he spent his money on had nothing to do with her, she'd reminded herself.

But that wasn't all; Justin had even spoken to Libby's medical team to ask whether it would be possible for Libby to wear some of her own clothes, rather than the hospital gowns that had been provided for her. To Clare's surprise they had agreed, and Clare had been asked by Justin to pack a small suitcase of clothes for Libby to wear—mainly sweatpants and t–shirts that wouldn't interfere with the tube in Libby's throat that was connecting her to the ventilator—so that she might feel more comfortable.

Although it had sounded like an easy task, it had actually been the catalyst for another war between them. They'd had a big falling out over Clare's choice of clothes, with Justin insisting that Libby wear one of his old fleeces that he claimed she had stolen from him and loved to wear.

Clare hadn't been convinced. She'd never seen Libby in the said fleece and had told Justin as much to his face. Naturally, he'd kicked off again and Clare had been forced to relent rather than deal with his extended tantrum. However, the resentment between them had returned and Clare was back to avoiding him as much as was possible.

However, despite this, Clare couldn't argue that since that day at the hospital Justin's attitude had completely changed. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do if he thought that it might aid Libby's recovery and he'd spent hours on the internet researching how to help take care of her. He'd been so reliable and attentive to his visiting times that it made Clare feel ashamed when she'd had to occasionally miss her afternoon visits due to work commitments.

There wasn't a day that went past when Justin didn't make each and every visit that he was scheduled for—despite the fact that he was in the middle of rehearsing and preparing for the tour. In fact, he'd even asked to be taught how to run through Libby's daily physio exercises, which Catherine had been carrying out alongside the nurses so that Libby wouldn't develop muscle wastage in her arms and legs. It had been quite a shock to Catherine, but it'd been obvious by her expression how much it had meant to her that Justin had asked.

Clare could only hope that if—when—Libby recovered, she wouldn't mind Justin's almost constant need to be around her. Clare could tell that he was forming quite an intense bond with her friend—on top of the one that was already there—and she hoped that Libby wouldn't be confused by how involved he'd become in her day–to–day life. It was endearing to see, and already it was easy to mistake the two of them for being in a romantic relationship by the way he was taking such good care of her.

Clare eyed the tatty fleece that Libby was wearing and rolled her eyes. "So, I see you're wearing that old fleece again, Libs," Clare muttered dryly. She thought back to the furious look on Justin's face that day at the apartment and shook her head as a smile tugged at her lips. He'd been so angry... so self–righteous that day. "Talk about stubborn..."

Despite her anger at him, Clare couldn't deny that his feelings had come from a good place. She secretly liked the way that he was trying to redeem himself after that infamous day at the hospital, but it still infuriated her when his protectiveness was aimed in her direction. As if she'd do anything to hurt Libby. The idea was ridiculous.

"I bought in your picture from home," Clare said as she turned her head to look at the photo frame. "I know you like it, and I thought you'd want it with you. Not that you can see it..." she said and uttered a dry chuckle.

Her eyes widened as she realised that it was the first time that she'd made a joke about Libby's condition. It concerned her how easy she'd found humour in the situation, but at the same time, it'd felt so natural. Their friendship was based on gentle teasing and playful banter. Libby had a good sense of humour, and Clare knew that if the shoe was on the other foot then Libby would be cracking jokes at her, too.

"Oh, Lib. Can't you open your eyes for me? So much has happened recently and I've really missed being able to talk to you. There really isn't anyone else I open up to as much as you..." Clare said sadly as she stared at her friend's face. It was true. Although Clare knew that she could easily talk to one of the other women at the Compound, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Whether or not Lisa and Jamie knew about JC and Alyson seemed irrelevant. Clare still wanted to talk to Libby. Libby was the only person who would know exactly how she was feeling.

Stretching her aching legs out in front of her, Clare glanced from Libby's face to her wrist watch. She still had another thirty minutes before her visit was over and so she decided to take a short break and head to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. She'd still have time to come back and spend another ten minutes or so with Libby before she had to leave.

"I'm just gonna go and get a coffee," she said to Libby as she got to her felt and leaned over the bed to kiss her friend affectionately on the forehead—a habit that she'd decided to stick with. "I'll be right back."

~~~~~*~~~~~

After collecting her coffee from the hospital cafeteria, Clare made her way outside to the small memorial garden just outside the hospital wing where Libby was staying. It had been planted in memory of one of the surgeons who had helped to fund the building of the hospital and was especially beautiful with its large overhanging trees, colour coordinated flower beds and even a trickling water feature in the centre.

There was a particular tree in the garden which Clare tended to sit under during her coffee breaks—food and drink wasn't allowed into the ICU—and she had affectionately come to think of it as 'her' tree. For some reason, sitting there on the grass with the sound of the wind blowing through the lush, green leaves above helped to clear her mind and remind her that even though she currently had a lot of sadness in her life, she still had a lot to be thankful for.

Tucking her legs underneath her, Clare leaned back until she could feel the roughness of the tree trunk's bark pressing against her shoulder blades. She shuffled around a little until she felt comfortable and rolled her head back, letting it fall against the trunk. Closing her eyes, Clare turned her face up towards where the sun was breaking through the gaps in the leaves and allowed the warmth to soothe the tiredness in her aching eyes.

Just as she was about to raise her head to take a sip from her polystyrene coffee cup, Clare heard a familiar voice say, "A penny for them?" And she opened one eye lazily and peeped up at her friend.

Sara stood over her with one hand held to her temple where she was trying to block some of the brightness of the sun so that she could see Clare's face without having to squint. When she met her friend's eyes she gave her a warm smile which Clare struggled to return.

"Rose! I haven't seen you lately, how are you?"

Rose crouched down and made herself comfortable beside Clare on the grass. She eyed the forlorn look on her friend's face, the redness of her eyes and the dark circles underneath them and felt a deep sadness for her friend. This wasn't the happy, go–lucky woman that she knew.

"I'm fine, thank you," Sara answered politely, turning her gaze away from her friend's face so that she wouldn't think that she was staring. "I've been busy with the preparations for the tour, same as us all."

Clare nodded and her eyes fell onto the grass in front of her. She really had to keep pinching herself to remember about the tour. Normally it would have been at the forefront of her mind—after all, this wasn't the first tour she'd had to prepare for—but now...

"So..." Sara continued amiably in a bright voice, "What’s been happening with you? I'm sorry that I haven't been in touch lately..." Sara swallowed, wanting to say more but at the same time knowing that she shouldn't. Even to her ears her words sounded too dismissive, too cheerful. Lord knows there'd barely been a day that had passed without her wanting to call Clare, or drop by the apartment to see her, but she'd agreed with Jamie and Lisa that it was best to give Clare her space. None of them had wanted to be a pain, or get in the way, which—now that she had occasion to think about it—had meant that they may have been a little too aloof, too distant. Sara hoped that they hadn't made a mistake.

Clare grimaced and gave Sara a sideways glance, her eyes tight. "Oh, I'm sure you've heard..." she replied dryly.

"I hear a lot of things," Sara replied honestly. "I usually don't pay them any attention until I hear it directly from the person themselves."

Clare let out a deep sigh and reached out to pull a few blades of grass from the soil before rolling them absent–mindedly between her fingers. Already there was a slightly worn patch around where she usually sat to drink her coffee and Clare realised with dismay that it was most likely her doing.

"I'm so fed up of being wrapped up in my own problems," Clare answered honestly, an edge visible in her voice. She glanced at Sara with hopeful eyes. "I want to think about happier things... how's that gorgeous brother of yours?"

Sara beamed at her, slightly relieved by the change in conversation. Not that she wasn't fully prepared to talk about Libby, or JC—she was—but she was grateful not to have to. She wasn't good at heavy conversations, and they would most definitely be heavy. "He's fine. He's been in France on a shoot."

Clare smiled back brighter this time, but it still didn't reach her sad eyes. "Very exciting."

"Yeah," Sara agreed. "He's visiting again next week for a couple of days... Hey! How about you come out with us one evening?" Sara asked her face lighting up at the idea. She leaned over to nudge Clare playfully. "It could be fun to hit the town together. You know, let your hair down a bit. Whaddya say?"

Although Clare was touched by the invitation, she really wasn't in the mood for going out. "Thanks, Sara, but I don't really think so. I've got so much work to catch up on, and besides, you and Jace won't want my miserable face following you around."

"Pah!" Sara scoffed, dismissing Clare's words with a wave of her hand. "Don't be ridiculous. Besides, it'd be lovely to be the ones to bring a smile to your face again. And, you know if I'm not able to convince you then Jason certainly will!"

Clare felt the corners of her mouth pull up into a somewhat reluctant smile as she remembered the last time she'd tried to get out of going out with the pair of them...

+ + +

It had been around the middle of November the year before, and Clare remembered that it'd been especially cold for the time of year. Especially for Florida.

Jason had asked Clare to go out with him and Sara to celebrate Christmas a month early as he'd had a job booked over the actual festive period and therefore would miss out on the festivities.

Clare had refused—as usual—stating that she had way too much work to do but Jason hadn't bought it. After hearing her utter the first words of her explanation of why she couldn't go, Jason had forced her to the floor and sat on her lap for a good twenty minutes until her legs had gone numb under the weight of his body.

"You gonna come clubbin' with me?" He'd asked her again through his laughter. Clare had scowled at him, pretending that she was furious but the laughter in her eyes had given her away.

"No way, Blondie!" She'd snapped at him. "I've told you I've got too much work to do!" She'd tried her best to shove him away with her arms but he was too strong. He'd just stared down at her panicked face and continued to laugh.

"Wrong answer!" He'd roared manically and had jumped to his feet, grabbing her around the wrists before she'd had a chance to escape. He'd pulled her through her own apartment towards the main bathroom, with Clare struggling to grip her heels into the carpet the whole way.

Once inside the bathroom he'd dumped her—fully clothed—into the shower cubicle as she'd screamed blue murder at him. Placing his hand over the water dial, Jason had eyed her carefully, one eyebrow raised in anticipation of what was to come.

"I'll give you one more chance, Clare," he'd told her evenly as his fingers tightened over the dial. "Are you going to come with us?"

"I can't!" Clare had squealed apologetically as the laughter rocked through her body. She'd looked at him helplessly, her eyes wide with panic at what was to come.

Jason had immediately twisted the dial changing the water temperature to intense cold before slamming his hand down on the button, sending a shower of freezing cold water spraying all over Clare.

Screaming, Clare had tried to jump out of the cubicle but Jason had anticipated her move and had held the door closed firmly, blocking her exit. He'd stood there, a beaming grin on his face, not letting her leave or turning the water off until she'd agreed—through chattering teeth—to go with them.

Naturally, after that she'd caught a roaring cold and hadn't been able to go out with them anyway, but still... she'd never forgotten that.

+ + +

Jason had always been the practical joker in his family, and rarely—if ever—took no for an answer. Still, he was a good guy with a big heart and Clare always seemed to have a good time when he was around. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if she decided to go out with him and Sara, but she would leave that up to them to convince her.

~~~~~*~~~~~