Work Text:
Momentary eye contact.
A flash of a coat and then he was gone.
It was a filthy evening. The air was heavy with rain and the stars were black, and cold. There was an unsettled feeling in the air which made her skin prickle. She tried to shake it off, but it stuck fast, and she felt a sudden urge to be anywhere else but here. Her thoughts wandered back to more comfortable times and she thought of him, the smell of him, the warmth of his chest as she curled close into him. He was always there, steadfast, and strong. Always ready to catch her when she fell. Despite her resolve her heart ached at the sudden memory and she turned. She couldn’t be sure what it was but something had hold of her that evening, something she’d glimpsed within him as she’d walked away, pointedly, insisting they were nothing but strangers. Perhaps she’d imagined it, but when she’d caught his eyes there was something there she didn’t entirely recognise, a desperation that was new, or maybe not, she thought, maybe just something else he’d hidden from her. She closed her eyes, pulled her coat tightly around herself, and walked on.
He stumbled along, incapable of continuing but refusing to stop. He could never stop, not now, not ever. But despite how hard he tried he eventually felt himself slip and finally, collapsing against the alley wall, he remembered every single thing he’d run so hard to push from his head.
No. NO.
The statement echoed down the empty road. His voice echoed strong but stark. There was nothing left.
“Face it.” goaded the voice inside, “Coward.”
His sea-foam eyes were wide as he stood clutching at the wall, as if on the edge of some gaping chasm trying to keep from falling.
“Why?” He petitioned the darkness, “Why me?”
“After all these years? You doubted. You didn’t have the courage.
It was simple.” He concluded, half rationally. “Don’t ask questions. You’ve never asked questions before. All these years it’s been SO SIMPLE. Just do your duty.
Do, your, duty.”
“You talk of duty?!” - Desperate, rasping, half-choked.
He laughed mirthlessly “All I had to do was my duty.” The sound echoed, louder in the darkness than felt fair. He stared at his hands, turning them absentmindedly. Hadn’t he always been right? Hadn’t he always been strong? Someone to depend upon. He’d thought the world needed him.
He thought she needed him.
But he’d been wrong.
She saw him around the corner, thought she heard a voice in the darkness, trembling. Could she walk away?
She instinctively reached out but decided, on balance, she had no space for another lost soul right now. Then she heard him speak and she knew. How could she have not recognised him? He’d only been gone 6 months.
He’d changed so much.
Despite the heat and humidity of summer he’d left his hair to grow and the colour had greyed considerably, his usually sparkling eyes had lost their lustre and grown pale - paler?
Even his clothes were different. He’d always been so smart, so in control, that the desperate man at the harbour in dirty clothes was just a stranger at first glance. His shirt seemed too big for him, the greatcoat that once proudly declared his power was now seemingly designed merely to hide him, to disguise his enormous size. It simply didn’t register as part of the wardrobe she’d known for years - washed, folded, lovingly laid out ready for his midnight callouts and early morning shifts. But she recognised the boots.
The boots were the same.
She experienced a sudden pang of guilt.
All his faults, the coldness she’s sometimes felt in him, his dogged lifelong obsession, none of it mattered when she imagined him alone and desperate.
She missed him. She hesitated before allowing her real thoughts to surface.
She loved him.
Her heart caught in her throat and she ran, sprinting round the corner. But he was gone.
There was an easy way to end it. Quickly and painlessly. He’d attended to many bodies over the years, criminals, awful men, and hopeless women. The women especially stuck in his mind, he’d fished them out of the water on a weekly basis, half clothed, wearing little more than their profession required, more than he’d often arrested them in while they still breathed at least. A moth fluttered by and he reached up, grabbing at the movement. As he lowered his hand he saw the lock of grey hair entangled in his fingers. Had he really grown so old? He stared at it for a moment as it hung from his hand and he half wondered at how dull the pain had seemed.
The fluttering recommenced in the periphery of his vision.
He turned decidedly to the South and began to walk to the cliffs.
The waves crashed onto the rocks creating foaming whirlpools along the edges. He noticed a sudden glimmer of the previously hidden stars on the deep blue water, casting shadows that he consciously ignored. A splash broke the heavy silence making him turn to look. He saw a body bob to the surface, lifeless, just as he’d soon be.
It didn’t phase him. He’d seen it all before.
He turned back to stare, yet again, at the now sparkling ocean. Without breaking stride he walked forward and the chalky rough floor of the cliff fell from beneath his feet. He kept his eyes on the ocean as it rushed up to meet him and then he felt weightless, then momentarily carefree, was this his reward?
No.
Finally, he felt hopeless.
He’d always loved the sea, she thought, and they were close to the beach. Would he be walking the beach maybe? No, not at this time of night. The cliffs then. Yes, he’d be walking the cliffs, commanding the view. Walking his beat.
She walked along the rough scrub grass, hands in her pockets, imagining what she’d say when she found him. I’m sorry? Lord No, she wasn’t sorry. She’d been pushed aside for so long and, despite the circumstances of their meeting years ago, she wasn’t the criminal he’d first imagined she was. She knew he knew that. He’d told her he knew that.
Come home? No point, it would probably all come out wrong if she planned it anyway. She looked around, the starlight helping to guide her vision. He wasn’t there, maybe she’d got it wrong and he was simply at the station, or maybe he was out ‘negotiating’ with some other poor girl who had fallen on hard times.
Jealousy flashed across her heart and she reminded herself that she deserved better than that, if that was what he had sunk to then they were welcome to him. She pretended to herself that she didn’t care.
It had become a lovely night though, there was a fresh breeze and the water shined like silver as she looked down into the swirling ocean below. She noticed a shape, broad and black and unnatural. It jarred in the peaceful night and the breath caught in her throat.
She half thought half whispered into the air, “No. No, he wouldn’t.”
The shape shifted gently in the water as the tide pushed against the cliff.
She ran now. Down the gravel path leading to the beach, scrambling over the jagged rocks until she was in reach of the shape. Frantically she grappled to pull it closer. Hooking her leg round a convenient outcrop she leant her body slowly forward, grasping desperately with both outstretched hands. Her fingertips touched fabric and she slowly eased the ever growing darkness towards her.
Eyes shut tight she pulled with all her strength, dragging the man onto the rock.
She opened her eyes and faced her own personal oblivion.
She was numb, devoid of emotion.
All was stillness.
Her heart twisted in her chest, her head pounded.
She held the dripping lifeless body to her breast and with nothing left to hold them in her tears flowed hot and free.