Birds chirping outside the window woke Clare up very early in the chilly morning. She glanced over at the clock on the night stand. It read five o'clock in luminous red digits. Exhausted, yet tired of lying around, she welcomed the wakeup call. She dragged herself out of bed. Surprised her body was agile so early in a winter's morning. She walked into the bathroom and turned the cold tap full on and stood listening to the whooshing water, still reeling from the shock of the past day.

She felt around the wall for the light switch, and turned it on. The immense mirror adorning the entire length of the wall reflected her face, extenuating the loneliness that had surrounded her.

The occasional traffic whizzed past the manor, and all Clare could think about was to run off to some place familiar. To someone familiar! Brandon.

It was too early. Visiting hours wouldn't start for four hours. Memories of days just gone flashed in fluorescence in her mind. As bright as the light streaming from the light fitting above her head. All the moments she had shared with him played over. The most astonishing and heart-wrenching moment came back to her: Brandon collapsing in a heap. She shut her eyes and saw the image again. Please, let him be okay.

Opening her eyes, her reflection stared back. She sighed, and splashed icy cold water on her face. Numb to its biting chill.

Brandon lay in bed, eyes shut, patiently listening to the murmur of the twilight hour, the humming of the hospital. Among all the sound, he could make out the ticking off the clock hands above on the opposite wall of the room. Clare's phone number played on, looping itself, like some far-away transition in his head. He didn't know how long he'd been awake. He flicked on the light and looked over at the clock. Quarter to six. He had been awake for almost three hours with only one thought, Clare. She had asked him to call her. He was itching to pick up the phone and dial. Had it not been for Maggie spying on him, he would have called up Clare instantly.

Its nearly six, he thought, not too early. Without a second thought he pushed himself up, grabbed the phone and dialled. Soon, the ringing started on the other side. Come on pick up, pick up! The call went through to an answering machine. Brandon hung up, and then a moment later dialled again. Just when he was about to hang up, a husky, crackling male voice answered. "Good Morning, Peterson residence."

Brandon hesitated. The phone was being answered by a man. Is she with someone? A boyfriend? He considered hanging up.

"Hello, is anyone there?" the voice crackled through the receiver again. "Look, if this is some sort of a prank..."

"Sorry, I was just. Is Clare available?" Brandon asked quickly.

"Miss Peterson can't get to the phone right now..." Henry informed. "If you would like to leave a message, I would gladly pass it on. I'm meeting her this afternoon".

"No, that's alright, wasn't that urgent" Brandon paused. "Would you please let her know, Brandon McCoy called".

"Sure thing," Henry said, writing the name down. "If you have a contact number..."

"No, I don't have a permanent residence in the city. I'll ring again."

"I'll let her know."

Before Brandon could hang up, Henry's voice rang out again. "I recommend you try to get a hold of her in the evening. The number is..."

After scrambling for something to write with Brandon cleared his throat and thanked Henry. "Sorry about having to woken you this early. You have a good day". He hung up, feeling a little disconcerted.

Cuddled under the blanket in the curve of the couch, Clare sat staring out the door into the darkness, beyond the balcony. She was beginning to nod into the silent asylum of her mind, waiting for the dawn to crack through the pitch dark night.

She woke up a while later and in front, the vision of a mellow sunrise was spreading. She quickly dashed her eyes back to the digital clock on the bedside table. Seven twenty five. She took a deep breath and pulled herself out of the cocoon she had established, and headed for the shower.

The phone rang soft and low, rebounding off the walls across the white box-like room. Startled, Brandon picked up the receiver, wondering who it might be. "Hello"

"Morning, Brandon" Maggie greeted him cheerfully, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, just fine" Brandon said. "Maggie, what's this about? It's a bit early in the morning?"

"No, silly" she remarked and laughed flirtatiously. Brandon rolled his eyes on the other end. She was speaking again, "Just rang to let you know that I got us airline tickets. Figured you'd rather fly than go on a bus, considering all things".

"Maggie, I told you already. I'm not going, I need to be here."

"Your mum needs you, too. You can't forget about her."

"Maggie, going home is not an option right now. There are people here who expect me to say goodbye."

"Then say goodbye, and move on."

"It's not that easy for every one!" he sputtered bitterly.

Hearing the viciousness in his voice, Maggie was speechless.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he apologized, feeling the awkwardness expand.

"No, no, you're right" she fought the hurtful tears. "Look, I know I have no right to interfere with your life but," he could sense her hesitating, "I'm only trying to make things right. I just thought it's time for mother and son to put the past behind. I know I've hurt you...at least let me try to make it up to you".

"Mag, let me sort out the tangles of my life myself," his tone calm and impartial.

"Brad"

"Mum and I have drifted so far apart, that gap can't be bridged in a day. It'll take years to gain her faith again." Brandon could hear the longing in his own voice. "Look, I'm not saying that I won't come home. All I'm saying is...not until after tomorrow".

"Why tomorrow?"

"There's a funeral I have to go to. I can't let him down. Not again". He knew Maggie wouldn't understand but he felt he owed it to Matt to be there for a final farewell.

"You want me to postpone the tickets?"

"No, you go ahead. I'll come later."

"I'll leave your ticket at the airport then."

"I think I'll drive. You got some cash I could borrow? I need to get something to wear to the funeral."

"Helga" Clare called out, entering the kitchen.

"Yes, Miss Peterson"

"Please, call me, Clare"

"Is there anything you would like me to do?" Helga asked seeing the hesitation on Clare's face.

"I'm going out for a bit. If Henry drops by, would you let him know I'm visiting a friend at the hospital?"

"What a silly thing to ask" Helga nodded, smiling.

"Am I ok to leave today?" Brandon asked when Joyce came to check in on him in the morning.

"Probably not" she replied.

"Why not? I'm fit and healthy."

"Well, your twenty four hour observation will end tonight, but there's no point in releasing you so late in the night at this time of the year. You won't find any accommodation, so may as well release you in the morning."

"Is there a way around this?" he asked cheekily.

"Unless I believe you have a safe accommodation, I won't be sending you anywhere."

"But, I've to find her..."

"Clare?"

He stared at Joyce, taken completely by surprise. "How did you..."

"She'd spent hours by your side" Joyce answered, looking at his bewildered face. "There is no need to leave. She'll probably come in to see you two today, anyway."

"Besides, I have a son who's your age, and I wouldn't let him go out there in this cold" Joyce smiled slyly and left the room, leaving behind an astonished Brandon.

In a split moment Joyce was back in the room. "You got any clothes son? Since we cut up the ones they brought you in".

Brandon stared on, perplexed.

"Well, you're going to need them if you want to get out of here, be it tonight or tomorrow morning. I'll see what I can find at home that my son doesn't need". She disappeared again.

When Joyce left, Brandon had a feeling that he might be leaving the hospital by the end of the day. He tried Clare's number again, to no avail.

The phone rang quietly beside Jack's head, waking him out of a dreamless sleep. He picked up the receiver. "Hello"

"Jack, it's me"

"How are you?"

"I'm all right. You?"

He sat up on the bed. "You're coming today, aren't you?" the words nervously escaped his mouth.

"Yeah" there was a long silence before Clare said anything. "What time are they coming?"

"Dad's picking me up around ten. Then we're heading to the funeral house."

"Then should I come to the hospital?" she asked.

"Would you be all right, coming to the funeral home? It would save you time."

"I don't mind. Shall I meet you there around ten thirty then?"

"Yeah"

There was silence again as the conversation ended on the matter at hand. Clare spoke out through the silence once more. "I'll see you then". But before she could hang up, Jack called out her name, "Yes" she answered.

"Thank you!"

When Jack entered the room, Brandon was nowhere in sight. He heard footsteps falling behind him and turned around to see Brandon enter the room in a pair of old jeans and a faded old T-shirt. An old jacket was in his grasp, perhaps a size too small for him by the looks of it.

"Hey"

"What are you wearing?" Jack asked, eyeing Brandon.

"One of the nurses brought me some clothes, seeing how they shredded my old ones" he laughed nervously.

"When are you leaving?" Jack asked leaning on the bed post.

"Tonight, hopefully. Where I go from here is a problem though."

"You can stay at Matt and my apartment, if you want?" Jack offered with no hesitation. "Considering all things, I don't think I'll be going back there any time soon, so you're welcome to stay as long as you need".

"I'll only need it for a few days. But thank you so much!"

"No problem. I..." Jack straightened up, "just came to see you before I leave."

"You're leaving now?"

"Dad's waiting outside in the lobby." Jack cleared his throat. "You're attending the funeral, right?"

"Of course" Brandon replied. "Let me walk with you. I can do with a bit of exercise."

The two of them walked out to the nurses' station. Jack asked a nurse if he could borrow a paper and a pen. He wrote down the address to his apartment and a mobile number onto the piece of paper.

"Give me a call when they release you" Jack said, handing the paper to Brandon. "I'll come and take you to the apartment". He eyed Brandon once again and smiled. "And get you some decent clothes, perhaps."

Brandon held the paper in his trembling hands, overwhelmed by Jack's generosity.

"You're going home soon?" Jack asked.

Brandon nodded. "After the funeral. Mum's not doing so well."

"Well" Jack looked over his shoulder to his dad. "Let me know when you're going".

Jack turned to his father. "Brandon, this is my father, Ken". Brandon extended his hand. "Dad, this is Brandon."

"Nice to meet you, Sir" Brandon said.

"Likewise" Ken shook the young man's hand and turned to his son. "We better get going soon. The director at the funeral home is waiting especially for us".

Jack nodded, turning to Brandon. "I'll see you tonight" and hugged him.

"I'm sorry about Matt" Brandon whispered.

Jack pulled away, nodding. "I know". He slapped Brandon's shoulders, "Take care."

Brandon stood there reading the piece of paper. The address was somewhere in the city. He folded the paper and placed it safely in his pocket then turned to the nurse. "Do you know if Nurse Joyce is still on duty?"

"One moment" the nurse gestured and read over the schedule for the night. "I'm sorry, she finished half an hour ago. Was it anything important?"

Brandon nodded. "Kind of. Can you contact her? The doctor cleared me, so she was considering releasing me tonight if I found an accommodation."

The nurse raised her brows. "I could try her cell phone if you wish."

"Would you? Please! No offence, but I would like to get out of here" he said with a smile.