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One moment, Alec Hardy had been standing on the cliffs in Broadchurch, staring out at the ocean while trying to calm his wildly beating heart down. The next, he was being guided into a blue box, which most definitely hadn’t been there before. Usually he would protest against being manhandled – especially by a man who looked a remarkable lot like him, but dizziness was threatening to overtake him, and he appreciated the support, even if he didn’t acknowledge it.
The room where he found himself in was filled with yellows and oranges, and he couldn’t help but think of Miller. The walls of her house were the same shade as parts of the columns in the room, and there was a shade of orange not that unlike her ugly jacket somewhere too. (Either that or she was in here as well, and he’d just caught a glimpse of her.)
He turned his attention from the walls towards the centre of the room, where a massive round control panel could be seen. Now that he actually looked around a little better, he realised that the room was big. No, it was massive. Way too grand for it to fit into that small box that he’d seen from the outside.
Huh. This must be a dream, then.
Hardy wasn’t about to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him confused or overwhelmed, however, so he just stepped a little closer. In his typically grumbly accent, he addressed the stranger. “So who are ye, then?”
“Oh, Scottish. I like that. Haven’t been Scottish before, I don’t think.” The other was too smiley – that immediately reminded him of Miller again and the way she used to smile before he’d told her about Joe.
“. . . Usually ye don’t really change nationalities. Or at least not yer first.” Hardy rolled his eyes at the other.
“Well, you don’t.” The stranger said, and then he dropped the subject. (Annoying. But Hardy was going to get to the bottom of this.) “So what do you think of this?”
As the other gestured at the rest of the room, Hardy did an obligatory glance around, before he settled on observing the stranger again. “Eh, it’s a bit yellow,” he shrugged. His eyes darted over that nose, that pointed nose that he was so familiar with. Then the brown eyes, and the yaw, and—This man in front of him was almost an exact copy, were it not for the clean-shaven look.
“It’s a bit—is that really the only thing you notice about the T—this place?” Hardy received a huff, and took satisfaction in the fact that he had ruffled him.
“Well, what else is there to notice?” He raised an eyebrow at the stranger, a bit of a smirk around his lips.
It’s at this point that the other seemed to realise that Hardy was joking. Or at least partially. “Fair enough,” he chuckled. “I’m the Doctor, by the way.”
“Doctor who?” Hardy frowned, because surely someone’s name couldn’t just be a title.
“No, no, just the Doctor.” He smiled ever so slightly at the detective – which made Hardy just a bit uncomfortable. After a moment of silence, the Doctor spoke on. “And who are you?”
What an odd question. “Ye mean ye don’t know?” Hardy raised an eyebrow at him. “Ye guided a man into yer—” He gestured at the room around them. “—while ye didn’t even know who he was?” He scoffed again. “’m DI Hardy.”
“Ooh, a detective!” The Doctor grinned again, which once again hit him with the similarities to Miller. She really was the only person he knew who smiled regularly. “So what cases have you solved? Anything I should know about?”
That was a question that Hardy really hadn’t been prepared to answer, so he just swallowed and turned his attention back to the control panel. He reached out, one of his hands tracing a line on there. The idea that this was just a dream was starting to settle in more and more.
“I’ve got to say that you’re taking all of this surprisingly well,” the Doctor said softly.
That made Alec glance up at him, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Well, I think it’s safe to assume that I’ve fallen into some coma-induced dream. And any minute now I’m goin’ to wake up in hospital to another bag of grapes bein’ thrown at my head, curtesy of my esteemed colleague. I’m just lettin’ this all play out till then.”
That seemed to have stunned the Doctor into silence for just a moment. “Does that happen very often?”
“More often than I’d like it to,” Hardy admitted. If this was a dream, then he should be able to be honest, right? The other knew everything already anyway, so keeping secrets was pointless. “’m really just waitin’ till mah heart gives out.”
Hardy expected a hand on his arm, or shoulder, or any form of support. Miller often did that when he talked about this subject, even if she didn’t entirely seem to realise this. But he got quite the opposite. The Doctor got out some sort of device and pointed it at him. He seemed to be scanning the detective, which earned him a confused little frown. “Arrhythmia.”
A nod followed that statement. “Stress-induced. By all means, I should retire an’ stop workin’ stressful cases, but—” Hardy sighed.
“You want to bring justice to people.”
The detective glanced up, a bit surprised by those sudden words. “Uh. Sort of, yes.”
The Doctor nodded. “Helping people is an honourable thing to do, DI Hardy.”
And that was when the other reached out and placed a hand on his arm, only it wasn’t in support, it was in encouragement. Hardy couldn’t hold back the wee smile that threatened to tug at the corners of his lips.
“I guess,” Hardy shrugged again, but he didn’t shrug the hand off. “So was I right? Is this all a dream?”
“I could drop you off in the hospital, if that makes you feel better.” The Doctor grinned at the other, then stepped away and turned towards the control panel. “Could go anywhere you want, any time you want.”
“Any—just drop me off at the police station.” The detective sighed. He wasn’t going to get into that little fact, he wasn’t going to get into that little fact now. The idea of being able to get anywhere or anywhen – was that even something that was possible? No, it couldn’t be possible. This was just a dream, nothing more.
“Alright, that I can do!” The Doctor grinned at him, before he started to flip switches and press buttons. A wheezing noise filled the air, and Hardy stumbled back as the entire room seemed to start shaking around the pair of them. He hit his back against the railing behind him, and clung onto that to stay on his feet. It took a few more seconds before it all slowed down again, before it all eased down. He stepped away from the control room, back towards the door he’d entered through. He raised a hand towards the Doctor as a ‘goodbye’, before he stepped out.
He blinked a few times, since the Doctor hadn’t lied. They were in front of the police station now. Someone must’ve moved the box with them in it. Or he’d zoned out until now and— He glanced around, the blue box still there. In fact, the Doctor was peeking out and waved a bit at him.
He waved back briefly, before he turned towards the building again. He was met, almost immediately, by a red-headed Miller. She stormed right at him and punched his arm. “Where the hell have you been?”
“The … cliffs?” Hardy frowned, a bit unsure as to what was going on.
“You’ve been gone for three days! Nobody could find you!” Now that she mentioned it, Miller did look rather tired, rather … worried. As if she hadn’t slept for three days.
“Ye’re not goin’ to believe what I think happened, Millah.” Alec started, as he glanced over his shoulder towards the blue box. But it was gone. “I jus’ might be goin’ a wee bit crazy.”
“That happened a long time ago, sir.” She huffed, but there was a tension that seemed to leave her now that she was there with him again.
He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of fondness in the gesture. “Well, no need to worry anymore, Miller. ‘m back. Now, catch me up.”
And just like that, Alec Hardy walked back into the police station, determined to act like nothing had happened at all.